The German prisoners had been marched for miles across the jungle as the equatorial sun mixed with the late spring humidity to create a type of heat that could rival hellfire itself. Separate from his comrades, Ludolf had been given the privilege to walk with Hassan. This respect only went so deep, however, and Ludolf's hands remained tied.
"This is the garden of the earth, don't you think faranj?"
"You grow this garden on blood, Hassan?" taunted Ludolf, scowling at his host.
Hassan chuckled, grinning at the audacity of his prisoner. "You know, when I was a boy, there was a man in our village who did little for himself, and lived off the hospitality of others. Now, the villagers were good people and were willing to share with this man, but he wanted more and he stole from the market. Now when I was a boy, the law was harsh, and the man was sentenced to have his right hand severed. The punishment was carried out to the letter. As a doctor attended to the criminals bleeding wrist, the magistrate who had passed the sentence stood in front of the crowd that had gathered to see the punishment carried out, and read to them a passage from the Quran. "A punishment by way of example, from Allah, for their crime: and Allah is Exalted in power"."
"Now you can say what you want about religion, but I didn't know anyone to steal from that market again."
Ludolf spit at the ground, his scowl having grown in intensity over the course of the story, "Sounds barbaric to me."
Hassan laughed out loud, wheeling himself to face the Belgian. "Barbaric? That is the essence of man! Violence and evil is the nature of the beast. Hell, You can't tell me you and these men were out picking berries."
"It is yours who have turned on your own leader" retorted Ludolf, "You started the war, don't pretend we are responsible."
"...and what is the stake of Germany in this? Charity for some poor prince? Don't insult my intelli... Ah!"
As the party turned the corner, they came across what looked to be a makeshift campsite. Canvas and cloth draped over poles or the limbs of trees made up the majority of the structures, with a few makeshift wooden structures housing radios and other such sensitive equipment. In a semicircle around the camp was a hastily dug trench covered in parts with a tarp to keep the rain from filling it.
Hassan pointed to the trench, prompting several of his guard to remove the tarps, and another motion brought forward the other German prisoners, who were lined up on the edge of the trench. The guards made a makeshift firing line with Hassan at the end, and they all drew their sidearms.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" watched Ludolf, struggling as he watched the scene from safety, having been spared for reasons he didn't understand.
Hassan pointed his gun directly at the doomed line of soldiers, turning his head toward Ludolf and grinning. "Hand's will be severed, faranj!"
Tensions had grown in the past few days. The celebrations had seized and a darkening cloud settled over the hearts of New Englanders, who just days ago were celebrating a new beginning in their lives. Now they worry of about the USSA's recent actions, and possibility of invasion. This was a concern even the president shared.
" We must be wary of who we allow within our borders, sir. No doubt the presence of Spanish and Canadian troops will startle the USSA, they may fear retaliation for their blockades. " the president's advisor warned.
The president sat at his desk, a look of concern on his face, " I'm not waging war on the USSA, but I do what I must for the protection of my people. If it means allowing Canadian and Spanish troops on our land, and along our coasts, so be it. "
" Yes, Mr. President, but you must understand the risks. We can't afford to trust anyone, not even our allies. "
" I am aware of this, but what choice do we have? We have no means of protection - no military, yet. "
Silence once again took over the room. It was all true. New England's economy is great, but without a stable government, and no real military, the future of New England was at stake. All Robert Holland, the president, could do, was put his trust on his allies and hope that together they could help New England grow into a nation capable of defending itself.
The president sighed, frustrated, " Contact the USSA; Tell them their increase in military activity along our borders is of concern to us. We have no interests in trading with the USSA, and a blockade is not necessary. I ask that they retrieve their forces before they cause trouble. As stated before, any violation of our airspace or maritime boundaries - even of the slightest degree - WILL be seen as an act of war, and our allies stand by us. For the safety of their people, and mine, I ask that all hostilities cease. They must understand we are independent, and want nothing to do with them. It is time they recognize us as our own nation and begin respecting us like one. " the president finished.
Vasily took the message, got a seat and started reading it.
Refusing that would be just plain stupid.
Vasily knew that Ukranians didn't do anything wrong, in fact they shared the positions. Their only mistake was taking Moscow with force and they exhausted themselves.
The science support was great too. The scientists could go out from vaults and start working in proper enviroments, with proper equipement and good conditions.
The ruling... Why did he need it anyway? His politican career was lasting only for five years and it's good idea to leave it to the professionals. If he'd started ruling now, he would corrupt himself with power and Russia would fall into chaos once again.
"Ну что сказать, молодцы." Vasily gave the message back to the messenger and continued "Я согласен. Где сможем обговорить детали с президентом или мэром?"
R.U.B.'s Library. (I know Alyosha is a diminutive form of Aleksey, but the guy is laid back prefers Alyosha to Aleksey, so that's why he just goes by Alyosha. )
"Ну что сказать, молодцы." The leader had taken his message and handed it back. He put it in his bag and heard him continue. "Я согласен. Где сможем обговорить детали с президентом или мэром?" "Oh! Sir, the governor's office is just a few blocks away. I'm sure Alyosha will be very pleased to hear you've accepted! As a matter of fact we can leave right now if you wish, sir." The messenger said, trying to not let his good mood overwhelm his just sort of normal features.
President Yuri Smyrnovo Aleksevich sat in his office wondering if R.U.B. had accepted, they could bring in a new age for Ukraine, but outward threats are not to be taken lightly. "Oh, yes, how good it will be! Then maybe we could take down Novgorod, but they seem pretty damn strong... Well, I'll figure it out later." Suddenly he had looked out the window and saw a man in rags for clothing running... You recognize him.. He's the most wanted criminal in all of Ukraine! After all he had murdered over 40 people! Well, as dangerous as it is he decides to go after him. He quickly walked over to a locked cabinet with a combination lock only he knew what the code was. He opened it pulled out his Mosin-Nagant Model 1938 rifle he kept in there in case he ever needed it. He saw some cavalry police chasing him, heading towards his office. He walked out into the street and aimed, at his heart but suddenly the man just feel over, no wounds. Yuri ran over tot he man and the cavalry men stopped their horses and dismounted.
Then five more foot policemen show up around a corner behind you and run over to the man. They take him away to examine his condition, rather curious as to what happened. He just surmises it was probably a heart attack or stroke, but most likely a heart attack. He simply walks back to his office to put his gun in his cabinet, when a officer comes in and questions his actions. "Sir! Why did you do that? You could have died if he had a weapon on him! " The officer said irritated. "Ah, but I didn't! I also had a gun, so he wouldn't have gotten close enough. Besides, I'm fine, and the he's probably dead right now." He said calmly. "You've got me there sir, but please try to be careful next time." "Alright, I'll try, but be assured, we have very different standards of 'careful'." He said again calmly and dismissed the officer.
"Good morning comrade Hou!" the secretary said, standing aburptly behind his desk. He was a new one, the old secretary had announced her retirement several years ago. Hou had left finding a replacement to the chief of employment who found him a military officer, as such he was allowed to keep a psitol under the desk, "How was Mongolia?" the desk-sergeant asked invitingly, as his hand still raised to his brow in a salute.
Hou, now greying with considerably more lines in his long face looked at the new secretary. "Good." he said flatly. The provinceal governor of Mongolia had invited Hou to the opening of The People's Provinceal Museum of Mongolian History. It had been an affair that took longer than he had expected had set himself up there for several days, "Anything on my table?"
"Yes sir." the sergeant said, abruptly leaning over to pick up a stack of papers on his desk, "Several orders of buisness has been left for you by comrade Mang. You still need to write an offical letter to the United Socialist States of America, with your announcement on the situation made it's been advised to write a "likely suggestion" as to how the US should handle the situation.
"In addition recent events in India require some sort of offical stance from us. Terrorist activity in central India had suggested that there is a possible regieme to support there. General Sing has asked me to inform you that his department has composed a brief profile on the group in charge. He's leaving suggestions for later and requests that you at least read the file before contacting him."
"Thank you brother."
"The pleasure's mine comrade." the desk-officer said, he held onto the papers in his hand. Looking over the stack Hou presumed there was more in there than a notice to write his letter and a profile on the as-of-yet annonymous Indian group. Unless Sing has kept to his normal definition of "brief".
"Can you take them in for me?" Hou asked, "I'll get to them in a bit. I'm sixty-eight now, can't expect me to do everything.
To the United Socialist States of America, from the desk of hou Sai Tang, China.
Comrade Marcus Fernandez,
It's come to the attention of China that a seperatist faction within your state has choosen to break free. We can not say we support this move. It breaks apart a proud nation and it's unfortunate that the greed of men and how they hunger for power will drive them to take drastic measures.
However, we can not show that we are like dogs. We as two nobel states can not make ourselves off to as vengefull as cornered wolves. We much act with inteligence, caution, and aggresive mercy. To fire a gun into their soil is an act of war towards kin and fellow blood. They must re-think their approach.
As the representitive head of China on the world stage I reach out to you as a brother to deal with the situation and re-integrate New England in a way that makes you far superior than your Canadian neighbors who will lash out primarily with force than with word. Find your muscle in a different medium. Don't turn to the gun immediatly.
Yet, at the same time, bear your force. My friends in Russia would say, "Stand like a bear, be strong like bear, strike like the bear". With this I make my own addition: Roar like a bear. Install second thoughts and racey panic. For anything that can roar like a bear, can strike with equal or greater force.
Keep them still for as long as possible. And remember, leadership is only as strong as the people under it make it. Particularly rebellion.
We hope to have future corespondence at a later date. But for that, I feel we must see how these events play out.
Comrade Hou Sai Tang, chairman of the New People's China party.
Baruti had made his way to the Imperial residence after his meeting with the Counsel. Passing through the winding corridors, he soon found the pool room. As he opened the door, the smell of chlorine wafted through the wet air. The pool sat in a large marble room, the walls decorated in gold leaf and blue granite. The inside of the pool was decorated with mosaics of hippopotami and dolphins. In the middle of the pool, a man napped on a single foam slab.
As Baruti entered the room, his footsteps echoed loudly and elicited a response from the man in the pool. "Baruti. How was the meeting?"
Baruti pulled a chair closer to the pool and sat staring into it. "Good to see you haven't moved since I was gone, Sahle" Baruti responded, moving on to the point, "They are making Chinese media illegal."
Sahle's eyes remained closed, though a smile crept across his face. "Good. We don't need that ching chong babble brainwashing people anyway. Anything else?"
"Mostly logistics, but..." Baruti paused, staring down at his feet, "I get the feeling they are hiding something from me. I suspect they might be going ahead with the Wernicke investigation..."
Sahle's smile disappeared. "I'll talk to Reynard about this, I don't think they would..."
"They don't respect you" Baruti interrupted.
Sahle chuckled, "Oooooh! Is that your way of getting me to go to their meetings? Please..."
Baruti sighed. "All I am saying is, I thhink don't respect you. They aren't running the country for you, they are running it in spite of you..."
"You have been whining since I got the throne back. I'm not the only ruler to use Europe to back my rule. You wouldn't have said any of this to my grandfather."
Baruti stood up and walked toward the door. "You aren't your grandfather."
United Socialist States Of America.
Presidential adress on recent and future events.
"My fellow Americans, today I ask for reason to be acknowledged. For as long as I have been your leader, your president. I have done what no other has done. In five short years, I have brought America from a crumbling pool of weak unorganized states into the most powerful nation on this Continent. The Canadians of the North are using outdated technology and have too few numbers to pose a threat. They shall be left alone, unless they give reason to harm us. The New England Republic has no reason to leave us. If not for us, they would still be in a crumbling mess the Canadians left for them.
In the South, Mexico continues to be our Valuable ally and we shall make continue to strengthen ties between our two nations.
The USSA will continue its Isolationist policy to all nations in Europe and Africa, but we will slowly begin to open up to our fellows in Asia.
I assure you, we will not start any war. The blockades around the NER is to simply prove that they alone can not sustain themselves. Their soil is to weak for farming, and one can not live simply on fish and maple syrup alone, we will however, have congress vote once again on recognizing the NER as a nation. I still ask however, why they wish to separate.
There is simply no plausible reason on why these states would wish to revolt against their protector. Long ago we did as well, but we had reasons for it. Now it seems that the NER wishes to be the long gone RNF, who failed because they could not support themselves. The same will happen here.
So, I ask the New England Rebels one last time to rejoin the USSA. All your people will stay in power and USSA military forces will move back to the original places. No harm will be done except a minor setback in your economy."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The world is a cold, unforgiving, maple-syrupy place for a Canadian
An open jeep filled with men dressed in the medal-adorned uniforms of the Spanish army brass bounced across the crater-strewn desert and swerved to miss numerous half-obliterated, rusted military vehicles half-buried in the Saharan sand. This bizarre, 280 sq. mile swath of the remote Mauritanian coast was where anything deadly needing to be tested by the Spanish army or navy came to earn its stripes. This desolate, crater-strewn land was truly the sandbox of the mad scientists.
"Mind the bump, sirs!" The driver of the jeep advised before the jeep drove over a bumpy stretch of desert covered in blackened, glass-lined craters. In the center of this patch of scorched earth were twisted scraps of metal and concrete that vaguely resembled tanks, halftracks, and defensive pillboxes. "This is where the Prometeos were first tested back in the early 60's. Hallowed ground, to be sure." The driver explained solemnly. "Oh, there they are!" He turned the jeep and speed up to a group of men surrounding a tank in the middle of the desert. The jeep slid to a stop next to the tank and the Spanish brass disembarked from the vehicle.
"Welcome to Arguin, gentlemen." One of the men in the group standing next to the tank greeted the army officers. "Now, I realize you didn't fly from Madrid all the way to the Saharan desert to die of heat stroke in this damnable desert sun so let's get started." He suggested upon noticing that these officers were still wearing their long-sleeved jackets adorned in medals. He turned to the tank and beat his fist on the side. "We're ready to begin, Marcos! Start it up!" The yellowish-tan behemoth next to him roared to life as the driver started the heavy diesel engine. "I introduce to you, gentlemen, the Musteño - a state-of-the art main battle tank that is specifically designed to improve upon the shortcomings of the current Centauro tank and be a capable weapon designed for modern tactics and warfare."
"It's much quieter than the Centauro." One of the officers noted.
"Yes it is, runs much more efficiently." He watched as the armored vehicle drove away from the group before the driver floored the pedal, causing the tank to lurch forward at maybe twenty-eight miles per hour - much faster than the Centauro could ever go. The Musteño turned back around and slowed to about 15 miles per hour and then turned its turret over to a rusted old halftrack on a sand dune in the distance.
"As you know, the Centauro has a smoothbore, 80 mm cannon that lacks any kind of mobile turret stabilization. This meant that hitting anything at great range, especially on the move, was a crapshoot at be-" the speaker was interrupted by a deafening blast emanating from the cannon on the Musteño, still moving along. A second and a half later, the halftrack sitting on the dune in the distance disappeared in a cloud of dust, sand, and shredded metal. "Not the case with the Musteño." He affirmed with a grin as he observed the awe-stricken faces of the officers.
"I think it would be safe to say we're all sold. When can production begin?" An officer asked.
"With the army's blessing, which we apparently have, and given that the construction of the Musteño tank is rather similar to that of the Centauro, I believe we can have the first tanks rolling off of production lines in early to mid-June."
The Spanish aircraft carrier Mirmidas steamed out of the anchorage at Cadiz to meet three destroyer-class vessels moving west out of the Straits of Gibraltar into the open Atlantic. There, the Mirmidas and its destroyer escorts would meet with three other naval squadrons under Admiral Santiago Santin before making their way to Boston. It was suspected that the fleet would arrive sometime in early June.
((It should be noted that the NWC has generally maintained and sustained a very good weapons program throughout it's history. Proof of this would be the citizens previous revolt, when they seemed their government was hypocritical. Canada, being the NWC's close ally has their advancements in weapons.))
Foreign Affairs- NER
Due to the recent success of Canada's last supply drop, it has been decided that the second portion of the mission will be carried out. Canada will be sending a portion of their navy to deliver troops and some other supplies that were unable to be airdropped.
Canada is holding up to a deal that was made. They do not want to start fights with the USSA, but they do feel a rebellion against government shouldn't just be patted out. In exchange for troops and other various help a portion of NER's monthly agricultural income will be given back to Canada.
Raspberry Islands- Continued Testing
EDIT: Redoing this part soon enough.
The amplification device is working well. Although the required tower and other such limitations it shows that this is a feasible way to interact with plane's with the necessarily things built and stabilized. This being said we have begun to rework our small and smaller scale planes into a full model Canadian line Metal-Narwhal. If the results are maintained in the large-scale test, a final reworking phase will begin in which we will begin to examine if anything can be improved upon, which is very likely. After that we have some test missions that will see what this technology is worth.
New England Republic, presidential response to the USSA
" The people of New England have repeatedly voiced their desire to separate from the USSA, even long before it was made official. It has been acknowledged by many, and it seems only the USSA has trouble grasping the idea. I assure you further voting is not necessary.
We have plenty of reasons for our separation, all of which have been stated in the past. We do not wish to stand under a nation who's changed the very ideals our forefathers set for us. We do not wish to stand under a nation that isolates us from the rest of the world. We do not wish to stand under a nation who is willing to try and starve it's former citizens in order to force them back under their control.
We do not want a leader who is willing to call himself a protector even after he tries to starve his own people. We do not want a leader who repeatedly disregards the people's cries for independence. You are not our protector; you are not our leader.
The RNF destroyed itself with its reckless behavior and thirst for power and war.
The NER is a nation of peace and liberty, not one that seeks control and power over the world. I assure you, we will thrive, we will survive.
You say New England in incapable of supporting itself, and I'm here to correct you. New England has always ranked highly in many areas of production. Maine ranked ninth among USSA states for it's aquaculture, and its abundant potato fields. Vermont ranked fifteenth for dairy products. Connecticut and Massachusetts ranked seventh and eleventh for their tobacco. Cranberries in Massachusetts and Blueberries in Maine to name a few.
We are an important supplier of of many resources and foods such as granite, lobster, and codfish.
All of our states ranked within the ten most energy efficient. New Hampshire had THE lowest poverty rate in the USSA.
All six of our states ranked amongst the top thirteen healthiest states - all placed within the top eleven.
Our manufacturing and exports are capable, and future plans will ensure that New England thrives. Trading will open with our allies and many changes for the better will be brought forward.
These are just few of the things New England has to support itself with. Yet you say we can't support our own nation?
The blockades are little more than unnecessary security concerns to New England. As stated before, we have no interest in trading with the USSA. The blockades only serve as a way to alarm and frighten our people, not to mention drain my patience. I have asked numerous times to consider these security concerns and retrieve your forces. Trading between our countries has already been terminated, there is no need for military intervention so close to our borders.
I do not seek war, but your inability to acknowledge NER as an independent nation is driving us closer to hostility. All I ask is that you understand that we do not want your rule. We are not part of the USSA, nor do we want any part of it. "
(( I took a lot of the rankings from wikipedia, and while the rankings may be off considering how different the world is ( and the dates ), they are good reference to how they should be in the future ( Plus I don't think they'd be too far off from how they were in the 70s, at least not extremely ).
(I can't help but ask Hug: are those recent statestics or pulled from the appropriate era? :wink.gif: )
Godforsaken patch of the northern Gobi
Flieght. Since 1903 it been achievable by man. One could circumnavigate the globe in a matter of a day or two; granted they needed to refuel once or twice in their journey. The last Great War had seen the first great use of the sky in warefare, taking the form of zeppelins and bi-planes alike. Then came single-engine air-craft, which dominated the scene until about the late 1950's to mid-60's; this varied from state-to-state.
And now, new heights were being reached.
Screaming above the Gobi desert flew the HFCB-1-01. Arrow-head in shape, flexible and transformable. Two pairs of large high-powered turbo-jets - inter-twined with new builds to encourage high-escape velocity in the exaust - carried the craft forward and up high above a casual observer's view.
Several high-powered telescopes scanned the skies furiously for the tell-tale white-under belly of the beast. Once they had locked on and the operators began feverishly following the high-flying craft radio-communication was made.
"HFCB-1-01," the radio operator reported with a chilling and robotic calm, "report."
On board the pilot reached to his helmet, activating his own com systems. Although mired by the electrical static of the window, the mettalic and distorted voice of a man in a heavy environment suit reported: "Captain Hou Wen reporting from the target altitude of 30km. Temprature gauges reading at -7 degrees celsius, but no discomfort from me or the crew in these suits. Air pressure is optimal, but the instruments are warning of a small leak in the bombay. Bombardier has reported no ill-effects on his part so it may be a small leak."
An engineer in the radio stationed looked up at the radio officer and at Henjibou. The colonel gave a curt nod, "It shouldn't be an issue. When they return we'll get that looked at immediatly. Maybe it was rubbed then there when sand-plasting it smooth and clean. Tell them to land it slow when they come in."
"Yes sir," the radio operator said with the same robotic calm-ness, "Under the circumstances of your report you're clear to continue. Be advised to under-go a slow landing on your return. I am obliged to welcome you comrades, to new horizons in flieght.
"China, welcome to 30 kilometers. Drop the shells when ready."
"Roger." the captain said, removing his hand from the radio in his helmet. All but the high-hum of the engines was removed from his head when the radio cut out. It was back to him and the ship. He reached out with a glove padded thick with leather and insulation. To be honest, it was sweaty.
His glove-induced meaty finger hit a button marked "drop" on his instrument panel. In the belly of the beast a pair of red-light activated signalling the moment to arm the explosives.
In the cock-pit the continued to gaze awe-striken by the scene in front. Ahead, a vast sea of cloudy blue more perfect that the sea stretched out. Small whispy clouds sailed under-neath them. And above, a massive expanse of sky-blue fading to ebony black. "This must truely be the edge of the world." the awe-striken pilot mused.
"If we survive this and everything works out well..." his superior quipped, turning the plane to keep it in the small target-area below. Continuing this coarse could very likely mean spilling their load on the Russian border, or loosing it in the expanse of the Gobi and thereby cost his superior a preyy Ren to hunt the target-sight down. He continued: "If we continue on with this beast, we may see where that void begins in full."
The thought filled the co-pilot with awe, shock, and if he was to be honest: fear. It no doubt had the same effect on the other three members of the crew.
In the bombay the bombadier looked down the dizzying hieghts they flew through a small window. Although massive when on the ground, the chalk-choked target area was a mere period on the canvas of the desert. Clouds streaked by as the craft circled. Looking out his small target-finder window alongside the telescope he was supposed to use made him terribly nausius with vertigo. Ironic that height sickness should be striking a veteran pilot. But this was just a new set of extremes.
He needed to keep composer, if he was to keep his oxygen mask un-marred by the pleasentries of his bowls.
Feeling confident he switched from the window to the telescope and peered down. The device was set up much like a sniper's scope. but peering down it he feared that even it's telescopic sighting wouldn't do much good. Although the spot was larger, it was significantly so and dodged eradically about. He sat watching as if it felt like forever until the plane made a fortunate pass over the heart of the strike-zone, or close enough. The voice of Henjibou himself echoing in his head: "At this hieght an alteration of even one to five degrees could mean the bombs being launched several kilometers off target. We've tried to accomodate."
They tried to accomodate.
Swallowing his fear he felt he had to break one of the army's sins: rely on luck.
He took the roll, and slammed his thumb down on the button to activate the bay doors. There was a low groan from the doors. ****, something to report.
but the mechanics decided to obey and the large metal flaps popped open, unleashing a torrent of air that tore at the bomber's coat. He felt like the craft was trying to spit him out! He held tightly to the handle, and double checked his straps. All was good.
Altough his head was enclosed, he could feel and hear the wind gushing through the woold hood that was tucked between flesh and goggles, mask, and helmet. For this boy from southern Hunan, it wasn't a pleasant experience.
Now for the second button, the tracks the bombs were strapped into had to be let go. He glanced back behind him giving the multitude of egg-shapped metal cannisters a final look. They hung silently. He couldn't help but think of them like butchered cattle bleeding out in the back of the village butcher's. Like at his home.
He put his face to the telescopic sights again, looking for the targe a second time. It quickly darted infront and he reacted as quick as he could, letting the bombs go. The mechanics responded better, and the bomb-bay immediatly filled with a loud clanking as heavy bombs rattled down the tracks, nose-down and out the bottom.
On the ground, silence ran king. The wait was tremendous as the engineers and officers on sight thumbed and flipped their pens and pencils nervously as they waited for the distant explosions. General Han Jang bobbed on his toes impatiently.
Then: calamity. Volcanic-like explosions roared in a chain several miles away from the observation booth. The aircraft was dropping it's pay-load on the fringes of naked observation. Massive clouds of sand and rock erupted as the long-chain of bombs dropped from the sky. It cut a swathe of destruction across their field of view, purferating the air with hellish concussions. The munitions were heavy. The if there was anything there, the destruction would certainly be absolute. The barrage lasted a full two minutes before the bombs ended and the bomb-bay of HFCB-1-01 was confirmed empty.
Accompanied by polite applause from the general, the radio operator reported with a slight but noticably more pleasant disposition: "This test is succesful. Make your landing and enter immediate debriefing."
Shortly after the first few armies had left for Delhi, Mahatma called for a television crew to record him. The resources at their disposal were fairly limited, so preparation took several hours. Once it was done, however, the camera crew stood in front of him. The film began rolling. Behind Mahatma hung a vast flag, the flag of the Unified Forces of India. Mahatma spoke.
"People of India. Your regularly scheduled programs have been interrupted for this broadcast, and for that I am sorry. But, if you look out your window and do not feel sorry for the people crawling the streets without the luxury of television, then I have no sympathy for you. How corrupt is out government? Oh, pardon me, governments. I forgot, you're not united anymore." He paused, while the people watching would laugh at the statement. That was intentional. Humor was key in gaining support from crowds. "But I seek to change that. I seek to make us united. Think of a government, with a stable and unanimous economy, and a great empire stretching from the Muslim nations all the way to Indonesia. This is what I envision India to be. Pardon me, truly, if you are not pro-Marxism, but that is the only way to rise to power. Look at our comrades in the north; China and the Asian Socialists are a global power of such a scale not seen since the days of the British. But they are not the British. They are a kind, loving empire seeking to spread their wealth across nations of the world. We must rise up, and join them in this new claim of wealth. United, we stand. Divided, we fall. Even now, we plunge to our death as the broken excuses for governments we live under make foolish choices and fight an invisible enemy. We must come together! We must fight the real enemy, whomever it may be who dares stand against the united wrath of Mother India!" The film stopped. The shutters closed. It was done.
A television compound just on the border of Jaipur was seized in minutes. There was no security. The workers were forces to run the film through all stations, cancelling the regularly scheduled ones. The film was copied and run. Within minutes it was being broadcast throughout almost all of India and Pakistan, and select regions of Burma. The goal of seizing Delhi was to work their way to Bangladesh, where Indian authority could be asserted before the Chinese considered making a claim to it. From there, a socialist-communist friendship would be negotiated between the two factions, with the promise of the UFI spreading socialism throughout the Indian subcontinent in exchange for protection from the Chinese. Additional terms could be met, within reason. But Bangladesh was still many leagues away, with Delhi armies blocking them all the way. Spies inside the nation were feeding Mahatma with updates, but not fast enough. The film finished broadcasting. The rich and political figures of India would have seen it. There would be much debate, but no action. Mahatma's new government would correct that. But the old one had to perish first.
The jeep bumped crazily along the road to a Delhi outpost that had been seized only hours before. Inside were Mahatma, an ex-soldier from the days before India shattered, and two bodyguards. The retired soldier was driving. Towns were left almost untouched by the UFI's wrath. It wasn't their fault that they had a crappy government, after all. It was part of the UFI support campaign. It was very effective, considering the troops often made a point of giving food for the poorer residents. Some villages even cheered as the jeep rolled past. The numbers of the faction were ever-growing. It wouldn't be long before they had enough support to storm Bangladesh.
With the president eager to build a military capable of defending the NER's borders without outside help, orders were given to begin the first steps toward developing a well armed, heavily armored and mobile tank fueled by a new type of fuel still in the experimental stages ( JP-8 fuel ). The tank would utilized composite armors ( Multiple layers ) and separate ammunition compartments for crew safety. The primary weapon will be a 105m rifled tank gun capable of firing multiple types of ammunition ( High explosive AT, white phosphorus and anti-personal ).
The project has currently just begun and is only in it's planning stages, but is scheduled to be in service by the time NER's military has been formed.
Additionally, the military's foundations and structures are beginning to be set. The ranks are structured very similarly to how they were in the US ( Like IRL ) and it consist of five main branches; NERA ( Army ), NERN ( Navy ), NERMC ( Marine Corps ), NERAF ( Air force ) and the NERCG ( Coast Guard ). The main battle rifles for these branches are also beginning to be developed.
For now and until then, New England relies on the protection of Canadian and Spanish troops that will soon be stationed within the country.
(( The tank is basically the M1 Abrams which entered service in 1983 ( though it began development much earlier than '76.
Also, I'm not the best when it comes to these kinds of RP ( though I enjoy them ), but I know it may be stretching a bit that New England is already developing advanced tanks, but I figured I had to start early if I want the nation to be able to defend itself soon. I also know that all this costs a lot of money, but I figured since New England isn't exactly doing bad economically ( Since it keeps all of the profit it once shared with the USSA, and is beginning to open up trading with it's allies ( Canada and Spain ) ), that they're capable of doing so, especially since it's kind of a priority to build up the military since the USSA is putting pressure on them.
And just in case; I'm not sure how everyone else is picturing New England at the moment, but they're not exactly a bunch of disorganized rebels. New England is as it is in real life, except they govern themselves. They may have some problems now that they've lost the USSA's support, but they're not exactly struggling to get by. ))
Delta Squadron was at the recommended max altitude, they had engaged radio silence and were nearing New England. The Jets noticed USSA bogies and kept their fingers ready to engage, if the USSA jets were foolish enough to attack the GH-1's they would be utter out matched, 18 GH-1's are a force to be dealt with. Yet this did not comfort the pilots, they continued to be on edge as their stealth was in full effect, they would be the size of a small bird on radar, and they were at an altitude most radar wouldn't even scan to. Soon enough the jets would be over the drop zone, reply the packages and head home.
City Reinforcement Plan
AA batteries were being deployed on the roofs of sky scrapers and rage office buildings. Outside the city a large concrete wall was being created, complete with bunkers and check in stations. Around border towns by Vancouver it was large. Plans had been made to create an 21 foot high wall to overlook the NWC/USSA border, most of British colombia was protected by the effort. The NWC was not taking any chances, tanks were positioned to guard the construction sites.
One of the scientists was at a large room sized computer, he was using it to go over masses of chemical data. He had already been onto something but feared it was futile, with a mere 25% success rate in the toxin he needed to find a more potent chemical make up. He was closing in on what could work, he then stoop up grabbed his notes and ran tot he head scientists office, He delt he now had enough evidence to support his claim that they could engineer a more potent compound and test it in a month. He started, "Sir i think i have found the evidence, i believe we can have the chemical effectiveness increased to 80% by using this new formula, here look." He showed a sheet of paper to the lead scientist.
The scientists responded, "Wonderful, i knew you could figure something out John, thanks for this. I will look over it, you may just get a raise."
It has been since time immemorial that man has looked to the stars in wonder, so I ask you, how can going to them be anything but an extension of a will older than any of us? It is our very nature to discover, and to lust for knowledge, you accept this but doubt the nobility of working to the stars?
((There were no computers back then Moose
EDIT: Wrong time to post guys. I am still working on it.
EDIT2: Done.)) RUB's library
The messenger was obviously happy with the outcome. Heck, expressions on most of RUB's faces were shining like suns. "'m sure Alyosha will be very pleased to hear you've accepted! As a matter of fact we can leave right now if you wish, sir.' class='bbc'>Ох! Сэр, офис мэра всего-лишь в нескольких кварталах от сюда. Я уверен Алеша будет рад услышать что вы согласны! Мы можем выйти прямо сейчас если вы не против." said the messenger trying to hide his emotions. "' class='bbc'>Да чего-же ждать? Тебя, парень, кстати, как зовут то?" Vasily said, prepearing to get a walk. He put on his coat and hat that were hanging lonely on the hooks in corner, the hooks that were traditionally left for Vasily. ((Aaaaand it. Texan, let's just have your next post to be in the governor's office already.
I have an insane idea about the oil, but it's very, VERY OP (Like, removing the oil from the whole earth!). But whatever, if someone wants to know about it and tell me if I can use it some day, PM me.))
(Yeah, sure. I'd like to hear it.) (Sorry, it's a bit short..)
"Why would we wait? What's your name by the way?" Vasily said. "Oh, um, my name is Ivan. But, let's get going." He said kind of nervously.
They had arrived, and walked through the door into Alyosha's office. Ivan went and stood off to the side as he stood up and went over to shake Vasily's hands. "So, I take it you are the leader of RUB and you've accepted? If, so, please make your self at home and take seat." He said with a smile on his face, rather pleased at the idea that he accepted, because why else would he have shown up?
Vasily accepted the handshake and noticed the amused look of Alexey. Well, it seems that idea is good for both sides.
Vasily took a seat and said "'s obvious and I want to talk about some less obvious details.' class='bbc'>Да, я согласен. Мне нужно просто обговорить детали. Например ученым, очевидно, нужны лаборатории и материал. Но это очевидно, а я бы хотел поговорить о неочевидных деталях."
Vasily prepeared to talk. Long talk.
((I assume you just name the "details" and I'll respond how I like it so we won't flood up RP by multipost dialogues.))
They shook hands and sat down ready for a long discussion. (I'm not sure what you mean but there's the details, I guess.)
"Yes, I've accepted. I just need to talk about the details. Scientists need labaratories and materials obviously. But that's obvious and I want to talk about some less obvious details." Vasily said.
"Well, of course we've got some facilities you and your men can work at. We will supply you with all that your team needs. You and your men are free to develop whatever is needed, but keep in mind we will assign you to research stuff and make things needed, like alternative fuels.... We really need fuel... But that's your team's first assignment. Any questions?"