INES III: Storm Tapestry
- Thread starter Imago
- Start date
The Coup
Part IV
Tanks had begun moving into Washington. The HoloNets might still be down, but the PA system had advised all residents to stay indoors. The announcement worked quite well, and the Reserve Army marched into Washington with no opposition.
General Pope knew that a coup was going on. He wasn’t an idiot. He heard Forrest’s speech about a “New Order”, but Pope didn’t know where he would stand. He was a noble, but not a Forrest, not a Hampton, not a Lee, not a Taylor. He had the glorious command of the Reserve Army, seeing an excellent role in the Canadian War by defending the capital from a threat that never came into the Kingdom. He wanted something bigger, and this was his time to take it. His commandos were at an impasse with the Royal Guards, and it seemed a civil war was going on within the palace. He had airpower on standby, but he knew that if he unleashed that on the capital, he’d be dead each way from Thursday. So no, let the politicians duke it out in there, and then let General Pope ride in on his white horse to save the day.
A major walked in to his headquarters. “Sir, you have a visitor. A Duchess Catherine of Cambridge.” He saluted and walked away, as did the guards, leaving the two alone.
The Duchess was beautiful no doubt. Young, but not childish. Eyes piercing through him, She uttered a simple phrase that would change the destiny of the Atlantic Kingdom forever.
“Kneel”
Without a second thought, he did, immediately aware how foolish this was. She gave him a set of instructions, and General Pope’s eyes widened immediately. A dangerous game was what she proposed. And despite how humiliating it was, he might actually follow through with these instructions. They seemed like they would work, and without too much risk to himself. If he timed it right, he might even be able to dump the Duchess from the plan. But still…a coup within a coup within another coup. Daring enough to work.
As the Duchess was escorted out, Pope’s adjutant walked back in, with an awestruck look on his face. “If a new arse needs to sit on the throne, I vote for that one”
Pope sighed and began relaying the orders the Duchess gave to his forces; He ordered the remainder of his troops to take control of the War department, and to stop besieging the OSI; The OSI headquarters would remain occupied for now. But aside from that and the Palace, General Pope had Washington under his control. Obeying the orders he was given, Pope went to the OSI and found, as the Duchess said he would, Breckenridge and Forrest.
“As a sign of good faith Generals, I have come here unarmed, without my troops. But I need the OSI’s authorization to use airpower in conjunction with Operation Bumblebee.”
Forrest and Breckenridge were both in shock. The only wild card of the entire operation seemed to fall into their hands. Breckenridge reacted first “Of course General Pope.” He typed in a quick message, and King Robert Air Force Base immediately responded. “There you go General. The Queen’s Wrath will be the one to destroy the Queen!” He chuckled at his own joke.
Pope then ordered the two to the roof of the building, where they would be evacuated by helicopters. Breckenridge was to go in the first one, Pope and Forrest in the second. As the two choppers left Washington, Forrest laughed as the fighters flew towards them…and then suddenly cried in anguish as the chopper with Breckenridge was destroyed. “Pull us down here. I feel General Forrest and I should have a chat here.”
On the ground, surrounded by soldiers, General Forrest tried to sound confident, but he knew fear was in his voice. Pope turned to him and said quietly “If you want to live, then tell me, where is Prime Minister Gates?”
Forrest quickly sputtered out that he was in Alexandria, a few miles outside of Washington. Pope issued a few orders to retrieve Gates, and for Forrest to be sent to his headquarters. With Colonel Kennedy, he met Prime Minister Gates an hour later outside the War Department.
“Your Excellency, I apologize for your arrest earlier. The OSI has a coup in motion to take control, and they plan on capturing the Queen to do so. I need you to convince the Royal Guards to stand down, and allow the Queen to flee to her retreat before we clear the city of the rebels.”
Gates, looking delirious and a bit insane, muttered something incomprehensible.
“I’ll just take it as a yes.”
By seeing Prime Minister Gates (relatively) unharmed, the Queen was fairly convinced the coup was unsuccessful, and by Colonel McDonald’s assurances, the Queen agreed to travel to a retreat in Virginia.
When the Queen left, Pope returned to the War Department with Colonel Kennedy. When the car pulled up, Pope told Kennedy to wait in the car. As Pope left the car, a shot rang out. Tragic really. But what could you do?
As General Pope entered the War Department, he saw the Duchess, as well as Colonel Andropov from the OSI. It seemed Pope’s plan had come to an end. The Duchess though, smiled.
“You have served me well General Pope. You will be rewarded. The last thing I need you to do is to take the Reserve Army to Washington Palace and clear the way so I may enter.”
The day, which had seemed so climactic, had a seemingly boring end. Victoria had been dealt with. The Washington Guards, as well as the Royal Guards, were quick to denounce Victoria, and they hailed Catherine as their new Queen. Glasgow renounced his prince hood. Once martial law had been lifted, the nobles had tripped over themselves to swear loyalty to Her. Being held as virtual hostage helped with any possible problems. The governors of Brazil and South Africa followed suit, and soon, every soldier in the kingdom had sworn the oath of loyalty to Her. General Pope laughed as Catherine looked at him, confused by his outburst. Everyone had felt that they could control Her, but it seemed She would be far more controlling than Victoria ever was.
All Hail Queen Catherine.
Part IV
Tanks had begun moving into Washington. The HoloNets might still be down, but the PA system had advised all residents to stay indoors. The announcement worked quite well, and the Reserve Army marched into Washington with no opposition.
General Pope knew that a coup was going on. He wasn’t an idiot. He heard Forrest’s speech about a “New Order”, but Pope didn’t know where he would stand. He was a noble, but not a Forrest, not a Hampton, not a Lee, not a Taylor. He had the glorious command of the Reserve Army, seeing an excellent role in the Canadian War by defending the capital from a threat that never came into the Kingdom. He wanted something bigger, and this was his time to take it. His commandos were at an impasse with the Royal Guards, and it seemed a civil war was going on within the palace. He had airpower on standby, but he knew that if he unleashed that on the capital, he’d be dead each way from Thursday. So no, let the politicians duke it out in there, and then let General Pope ride in on his white horse to save the day.
A major walked in to his headquarters. “Sir, you have a visitor. A Duchess Catherine of Cambridge.” He saluted and walked away, as did the guards, leaving the two alone.
The Duchess was beautiful no doubt. Young, but not childish. Eyes piercing through him, She uttered a simple phrase that would change the destiny of the Atlantic Kingdom forever.
“Kneel”
Without a second thought, he did, immediately aware how foolish this was. She gave him a set of instructions, and General Pope’s eyes widened immediately. A dangerous game was what she proposed. And despite how humiliating it was, he might actually follow through with these instructions. They seemed like they would work, and without too much risk to himself. If he timed it right, he might even be able to dump the Duchess from the plan. But still…a coup within a coup within another coup. Daring enough to work.
As the Duchess was escorted out, Pope’s adjutant walked back in, with an awestruck look on his face. “If a new arse needs to sit on the throne, I vote for that one”
Pope sighed and began relaying the orders the Duchess gave to his forces; He ordered the remainder of his troops to take control of the War department, and to stop besieging the OSI; The OSI headquarters would remain occupied for now. But aside from that and the Palace, General Pope had Washington under his control. Obeying the orders he was given, Pope went to the OSI and found, as the Duchess said he would, Breckenridge and Forrest.
“As a sign of good faith Generals, I have come here unarmed, without my troops. But I need the OSI’s authorization to use airpower in conjunction with Operation Bumblebee.”
Forrest and Breckenridge were both in shock. The only wild card of the entire operation seemed to fall into their hands. Breckenridge reacted first “Of course General Pope.” He typed in a quick message, and King Robert Air Force Base immediately responded. “There you go General. The Queen’s Wrath will be the one to destroy the Queen!” He chuckled at his own joke.
Pope then ordered the two to the roof of the building, where they would be evacuated by helicopters. Breckenridge was to go in the first one, Pope and Forrest in the second. As the two choppers left Washington, Forrest laughed as the fighters flew towards them…and then suddenly cried in anguish as the chopper with Breckenridge was destroyed. “Pull us down here. I feel General Forrest and I should have a chat here.”
On the ground, surrounded by soldiers, General Forrest tried to sound confident, but he knew fear was in his voice. Pope turned to him and said quietly “If you want to live, then tell me, where is Prime Minister Gates?”
Forrest quickly sputtered out that he was in Alexandria, a few miles outside of Washington. Pope issued a few orders to retrieve Gates, and for Forrest to be sent to his headquarters. With Colonel Kennedy, he met Prime Minister Gates an hour later outside the War Department.
“Your Excellency, I apologize for your arrest earlier. The OSI has a coup in motion to take control, and they plan on capturing the Queen to do so. I need you to convince the Royal Guards to stand down, and allow the Queen to flee to her retreat before we clear the city of the rebels.”
Gates, looking delirious and a bit insane, muttered something incomprehensible.
“I’ll just take it as a yes.”
By seeing Prime Minister Gates (relatively) unharmed, the Queen was fairly convinced the coup was unsuccessful, and by Colonel McDonald’s assurances, the Queen agreed to travel to a retreat in Virginia.
When the Queen left, Pope returned to the War Department with Colonel Kennedy. When the car pulled up, Pope told Kennedy to wait in the car. As Pope left the car, a shot rang out. Tragic really. But what could you do?
As General Pope entered the War Department, he saw the Duchess, as well as Colonel Andropov from the OSI. It seemed Pope’s plan had come to an end. The Duchess though, smiled.
“You have served me well General Pope. You will be rewarded. The last thing I need you to do is to take the Reserve Army to Washington Palace and clear the way so I may enter.”
The day, which had seemed so climactic, had a seemingly boring end. Victoria had been dealt with. The Washington Guards, as well as the Royal Guards, were quick to denounce Victoria, and they hailed Catherine as their new Queen. Glasgow renounced his prince hood. Once martial law had been lifted, the nobles had tripped over themselves to swear loyalty to Her. Being held as virtual hostage helped with any possible problems. The governors of Brazil and South Africa followed suit, and soon, every soldier in the kingdom had sworn the oath of loyalty to Her. General Pope laughed as Catherine looked at him, confused by his outburst. Everyone had felt that they could control Her, but it seemed She would be far more controlling than Victoria ever was.
All Hail Queen Catherine.
Neverwonagame3
Self-Styled Intellectual
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2006
- Messages
- 3,549
Not really sure about quality lately- but I'm bored so...
Diplomacy:
From Confederation of World Archapeloges
To World
The Atlantic Kingdom has gone too far- we once believed that they at least had a respect for law and order. It seems they do not. The Texans have proved themselves correct, and have provided terms (some of them secret) to our satisfaction that assure us that we have no fear of reprisal.
We are therefore expelling the United Americas headquarters and leaving the alliance permanently to join PADTA.
Stories:
The Beginnings of MegaCorp
Harold Johnson was originally an immigrant whose family had moved to the Confederation in the hope of political power- it was figured that in some of the smaller island holdings, it would be easy to gain power and thus hold disproportionate influence. The theory was sound- the trouble was that the Johnsons were not politically astute enough to win even in such conditions.
Johnson had the mind of a buisnessman, but his circumstances were poor- he had contacts from which to recieve loans if necessary, but no buisness experience. He was also confined to the Confederation personally due being sixteen years old. Yet he wanted to make money- by any means necessary...
The solution to the dilemna was MegaCorp. The company's buisness was to transfer technology from one nation to another- with military technologies and state secrets this was illegal, but not with everything. Their first major order was to import ACT Systems and sell them in Havana- they also bought a Patagonian factory (then took just about everything they could and sold the secrets) and tried to buy a USACS factory. Johnson was an ambitious man, and tried to get his hands on just about every non-worldwide technology in existence. (including state secrets, which would eventually be his downfall...)
However, after about six months of buisness Johnson decided to spread out- due to family sentiments he actually became angry when newspapers described him as 'patriotic', and hoped to dispel the sentiment (as well as the fact that there would be greater profits- but he was already rich enough to excel anything his extended family had ever achieved, so was mostly content). It was reasoned that states such as the Incan Republic, the Guineas, Germany, Romania, and Mexico could be sold Havana-based technologies in order to boost his revenue further.
Meanwhile, the government looked on- and waited. Officials in the Department of Buisness debated endlessly whether to outlaw the practice to safeguard Confederation technology, or to keep it going in the hopes of gaining more...
Diplomacy:
From Confederation of World Archapeloges
To World
The Atlantic Kingdom has gone too far- we once believed that they at least had a respect for law and order. It seems they do not. The Texans have proved themselves correct, and have provided terms (some of them secret) to our satisfaction that assure us that we have no fear of reprisal.
We are therefore expelling the United Americas headquarters and leaving the alliance permanently to join PADTA.
Stories:
The Beginnings of MegaCorp
Harold Johnson was originally an immigrant whose family had moved to the Confederation in the hope of political power- it was figured that in some of the smaller island holdings, it would be easy to gain power and thus hold disproportionate influence. The theory was sound- the trouble was that the Johnsons were not politically astute enough to win even in such conditions.
Johnson had the mind of a buisnessman, but his circumstances were poor- he had contacts from which to recieve loans if necessary, but no buisness experience. He was also confined to the Confederation personally due being sixteen years old. Yet he wanted to make money- by any means necessary...
The solution to the dilemna was MegaCorp. The company's buisness was to transfer technology from one nation to another- with military technologies and state secrets this was illegal, but not with everything. Their first major order was to import ACT Systems and sell them in Havana- they also bought a Patagonian factory (then took just about everything they could and sold the secrets) and tried to buy a USACS factory. Johnson was an ambitious man, and tried to get his hands on just about every non-worldwide technology in existence. (including state secrets, which would eventually be his downfall...)
However, after about six months of buisness Johnson decided to spread out- due to family sentiments he actually became angry when newspapers described him as 'patriotic', and hoped to dispel the sentiment (as well as the fact that there would be greater profits- but he was already rich enough to excel anything his extended family had ever achieved, so was mostly content). It was reasoned that states such as the Incan Republic, the Guineas, Germany, Romania, and Mexico could be sold Havana-based technologies in order to boost his revenue further.
Meanwhile, the government looked on- and waited. Officials in the Department of Buisness debated endlessly whether to outlaw the practice to safeguard Confederation technology, or to keep it going in the hopes of gaining more...
Neverwonagame3
Self-Styled Intellectual
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2006
- Messages
- 3,549
OOC: It's worth pointing out that from this coming turn Electronic Warfare and Advanced Manufacturing will be added to the PADTA pool. Quebec can also take it's own slice of TUA tech.
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
Edited because the post seemed superfluous.
Story time!
Town hall meeting, City of Yellowknife, CWOH:
The Mayor, Trent Popovich, is a small, balding man with thick glasses and a big voice. He was addressing his constituents this evening,
"Alright gents, let's get this meeting over with. The higher-ups are telling me that we need public opinion on the happenings of the Southerners and East-Coasters. Anybody got anything to say?"
One of the councilors lifted her hand and addressed the thousand-or-so individuals gathered in the town hall,
"The people from my borough indicate support for the Texans, but I personally favor the Monarch over somebody who will ally with the Mexicans."
Another stood and gave his opinion,
"Yeah well the North-side general consensus is that we oughtta forget all of 'em and build a wall or something. The way I reckon it is that none of 'em really want any good for the Commonwealth; hell, apparently they were all spying on us, and all we ever did was help!"
The mayor nodded in agreement. He leaned toward the isolationist party as well, but had to hear a few more voices before he could submit the paperwork. A couple more councilors and some 'average joes' gave their opinion, and he wrapped up the meeting.
Back in his office, he drafted the official public opinion of the city of Yellowknife, and sent it by post to some regional power that would do something or other with it. He imagined an army of bureaucrats reading all of these transcripts and chuckled, but he was glad that the public's opinion mattered. He just hoped that the Commonwealth public elsewhere didn't want some kind of conflict...
Story time!
Town hall meeting, City of Yellowknife, CWOH:
The Mayor, Trent Popovich, is a small, balding man with thick glasses and a big voice. He was addressing his constituents this evening,
"Alright gents, let's get this meeting over with. The higher-ups are telling me that we need public opinion on the happenings of the Southerners and East-Coasters. Anybody got anything to say?"
One of the councilors lifted her hand and addressed the thousand-or-so individuals gathered in the town hall,
"The people from my borough indicate support for the Texans, but I personally favor the Monarch over somebody who will ally with the Mexicans."
Another stood and gave his opinion,
"Yeah well the North-side general consensus is that we oughtta forget all of 'em and build a wall or something. The way I reckon it is that none of 'em really want any good for the Commonwealth; hell, apparently they were all spying on us, and all we ever did was help!"
The mayor nodded in agreement. He leaned toward the isolationist party as well, but had to hear a few more voices before he could submit the paperwork. A couple more councilors and some 'average joes' gave their opinion, and he wrapped up the meeting.
Back in his office, he drafted the official public opinion of the city of Yellowknife, and sent it by post to some regional power that would do something or other with it. He imagined an army of bureaucrats reading all of these transcripts and chuckled, but he was glad that the public's opinion mattered. He just hoped that the Commonwealth public elsewhere didn't want some kind of conflict...
Eltain
Deity
le Orders Sent.
Kozmos
Jew Detective
To World
From UK & Allied Forces
We will be assisting France in putting down the Spanish Insurrection. Any foreign party that tries to interfere in NEU affairs whether overtly or covertly will be punished with the full force of the System in place.
From UK & Allied Forces
We will be assisting France in putting down the Spanish Insurrection. Any foreign party that tries to interfere in NEU affairs whether overtly or covertly will be punished with the full force of the System in place.
Lord of Elves
Suede-Denim Secret Police
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2009
- Messages
- 6,976
Second Japanese Empire's orders sent.
Kozmos
Jew Detective
The fighting was fierce in the city. Spanish nationalist were not giving up as easily as Command hoped. Fools. Lorries full of ragtag guerrila fighters kept streaming into the city. The squad he was with was on the roof, looking down on them. The rebels were using AK derivatives and RPGs, his ThreatSense HUD informed him, weapons of the communist block, cheap but crude and effective.
The squad he was attached to as a infiltration specialist...they gave him the creeps which was saying something seeing as Adam himself was at one time more machine than man. Clones, every one of them. Linked by nanomachines, allowing them to sense each others and share information like a network of computers. Seeing what each one saw, feeling what each one felt, sharing the pain so it never overwhelms one soldier. It was all part of the System.
Their guns and equipment were top notch, customizable assault rifles with modification kits all of it DNA fingerlocked. Only those who came from the clone stock could use them. Inside the soldiers the nanos tracked everything and relayed real-time personal data to HQ, from position, movement speed, ammo, accuracy, heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen saturation, every pain, every wound, every feeling was collected and stored by the System AIs and distributed to battlefield commanders. It was terrifying, the level of control. It made war too easy, too controllable.
His new body was terrifying as well. They gave it back to him. Cloned the parts he lost out of his own DNA and reattached them. Naturally they wouldn't do this to lessen his efficiency as an agent. It was an upgrade they said, the foundation of next generation special forces. Nano-augmentation. Ionic polymeric gel myofibrils woven into arm and leg muscles for greater strength and speed, environmental and toxin resistance through increased keratin production that strengthened epithelial tissue with monomolecular plates reinforcing the skin's epithelial membrane reducing the threat from ballistic and bladed weapons. Programmable polymerase that could direct construction of proteins for increased regeneration of damaged tissue. Subdermal pigmentation cells allowing him to blend with the surrounding environment.
An explosion shook the building. The rebels were trying to blow it up with RPGs because the System army snipers were too effective. With every soldier serving indirectly as a spotter few enemies could evade them. He sighed at how war had changed. The squad was reforming instantly, barely shaken by the direct attack, no doubt receiving orders to focus on soldiers bearing RPGs on their backs.
Adam jumped from the building onto a balcony on the opposing building and then another before finally landing on the street. Adjusting his weapon and checking the safety off he sprinted at his full augmented speed behind enemy lines with gunfire echoing all around him.
About 500 meters above an UAV was circling the battlefield surveying the battlefield, recording and transmitting high-definition video data to a screen in London, situated in the Ministry of Defense, where Lord Protector Gabriel Blacktyde and the Joint Staff were observing the action in Spain in their comfy chairs. Enemies were recorded with thermal imaging and false-colored orange while Allied forces were false-colored light blue on the screen. The detail was amazing. Gabriel could see for himself the unorganized advance of the orange shapes with the blue shapes seemingly retreating but actually forming a flanking pincer attack.
Among the large cluster of orange shapes was one blue shape, extinguishing each and every orange shape he touched. He wondered who that was, to be so skilled in the art of war and killing. The Joint Staff nodded approvingly at the screen, it was a long time since British troops had seen an active engagement but the new System was working flawlessly.
"Gentlemen, what is your impression?" he asked out loud in his booming commanding voice.
"They are operating without fail m'lord. As expected and predicted by the simulations. While we do have superior training and technology, I'm not sure how we would still fare against waves of numerically overwhelming enemies." General Malt replied
The state treasurer ventured an opinion "I'm sure our troops are the best in the world at what they do...but this equipment, the black budgets, the costs are too exorbitant to continue like this for long. We aren't ready for any kind of prolonged war."
"Are we not? The molecular manufacturing method is nearly perfected and nanofactories are nearing completion. Once they come online funding for armed forces will be considered a non-issue. High-tech vehicles and equipment produced en masse for the cost of a single minimal wage."
"And if the project flops?" asked the Chief Scientific Adviser, Welland.
Gabriel ran his fingers through his long tangled black hair, polished his monocle and smiled "We have other options. If it comes to that, we're going to change the terms of the engagement. It will become our war, not theirs. We don't need cities or armies. We have the cells of the human body. An invisible weapon for an invisible war."
The squad he was attached to as a infiltration specialist...they gave him the creeps which was saying something seeing as Adam himself was at one time more machine than man. Clones, every one of them. Linked by nanomachines, allowing them to sense each others and share information like a network of computers. Seeing what each one saw, feeling what each one felt, sharing the pain so it never overwhelms one soldier. It was all part of the System.
Their guns and equipment were top notch, customizable assault rifles with modification kits all of it DNA fingerlocked. Only those who came from the clone stock could use them. Inside the soldiers the nanos tracked everything and relayed real-time personal data to HQ, from position, movement speed, ammo, accuracy, heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen saturation, every pain, every wound, every feeling was collected and stored by the System AIs and distributed to battlefield commanders. It was terrifying, the level of control. It made war too easy, too controllable.
His new body was terrifying as well. They gave it back to him. Cloned the parts he lost out of his own DNA and reattached them. Naturally they wouldn't do this to lessen his efficiency as an agent. It was an upgrade they said, the foundation of next generation special forces. Nano-augmentation. Ionic polymeric gel myofibrils woven into arm and leg muscles for greater strength and speed, environmental and toxin resistance through increased keratin production that strengthened epithelial tissue with monomolecular plates reinforcing the skin's epithelial membrane reducing the threat from ballistic and bladed weapons. Programmable polymerase that could direct construction of proteins for increased regeneration of damaged tissue. Subdermal pigmentation cells allowing him to blend with the surrounding environment.
An explosion shook the building. The rebels were trying to blow it up with RPGs because the System army snipers were too effective. With every soldier serving indirectly as a spotter few enemies could evade them. He sighed at how war had changed. The squad was reforming instantly, barely shaken by the direct attack, no doubt receiving orders to focus on soldiers bearing RPGs on their backs.
Adam jumped from the building onto a balcony on the opposing building and then another before finally landing on the street. Adjusting his weapon and checking the safety off he sprinted at his full augmented speed behind enemy lines with gunfire echoing all around him.
About 500 meters above an UAV was circling the battlefield surveying the battlefield, recording and transmitting high-definition video data to a screen in London, situated in the Ministry of Defense, where Lord Protector Gabriel Blacktyde and the Joint Staff were observing the action in Spain in their comfy chairs. Enemies were recorded with thermal imaging and false-colored orange while Allied forces were false-colored light blue on the screen. The detail was amazing. Gabriel could see for himself the unorganized advance of the orange shapes with the blue shapes seemingly retreating but actually forming a flanking pincer attack.
Among the large cluster of orange shapes was one blue shape, extinguishing each and every orange shape he touched. He wondered who that was, to be so skilled in the art of war and killing. The Joint Staff nodded approvingly at the screen, it was a long time since British troops had seen an active engagement but the new System was working flawlessly.
"Gentlemen, what is your impression?" he asked out loud in his booming commanding voice.
"They are operating without fail m'lord. As expected and predicted by the simulations. While we do have superior training and technology, I'm not sure how we would still fare against waves of numerically overwhelming enemies." General Malt replied
The state treasurer ventured an opinion "I'm sure our troops are the best in the world at what they do...but this equipment, the black budgets, the costs are too exorbitant to continue like this for long. We aren't ready for any kind of prolonged war."
"Are we not? The molecular manufacturing method is nearly perfected and nanofactories are nearing completion. Once they come online funding for armed forces will be considered a non-issue. High-tech vehicles and equipment produced en masse for the cost of a single minimal wage."
"And if the project flops?" asked the Chief Scientific Adviser, Welland.
Gabriel ran his fingers through his long tangled black hair, polished his monocle and smiled "We have other options. If it comes to that, we're going to change the terms of the engagement. It will become our war, not theirs. We don't need cities or armies. We have the cells of the human body. An invisible weapon for an invisible war."
Circuit
Writing Letters
Dartagnan Moreau
Dante Gallo
"Take his hood off," Dante Gallo said, intentionally choosing a tone that would chill the air. The two Praetorians yanked the hood off the prisoner, an older man in a tattered, soiled tuxedo, his hair disheveled, and unshaved. The man allowed his head to flop and rest his chin on his chest, looking up at Dante Gallo from below the eyebrows. It was an attempt at defiance, to give Dante Gallo the impression that the interrogation would be futile. But Dante Gallo was not impressed.
"Has he been conditioned?" he asked one of the Praetorians.
"We've been waterboarding him for the past few days, Duce," a woman replied. "He has resisted."
"I see." Dante Gallo approached the man, towering over him. "Perhaps he doesn't quite understand the position he and all the rebels are in. I'll be sure to make it clear."
"I know nothing," the man spat. "I was just a butler. I had no idea..."
Dante Gallo slapped him with his mechanical arm. One of the man's teeth flew from his mouth, and his face was red. A little more force, and Dante Gallo would have broken his jaw... an unnecessary waste. "Say all you like, pezzo di merda. I've dealt with bigger fish than you."
The man, panting hard, rasped, "Then why do you waste your time?"
"We've found that just about everyone in Barcelona has something to say," Gallo replied. He then sunk to his knees, and grabbed the man's face with his mechanical hand, jerking it to his eyes. "Name."
"Dartagnan Moreau," the man said. Dante Gallo looked to the Praetorian who spoke earlier. She nodded in affirmation.
"Good man," Dante Gallo said.
"That's all you'll ever get from me," Moreau said.
Dante Gallo chuckled. "Have you forgotten who you are dealing with? You're not playing games with the French, Dartagnan. You're dealing with the Romans, the men who took over the world once, and will do it again if necessary. We know how to build empires, sir, and there's only one way they are built: blood. Lots of blood. And don't think we won't resort to killing every man, woman, and child in Spain if that's what it takes to quell this insurrection."
The man looked Dante Gallo in the eyes, and realized that Dante Gallo wasn't being rhetorical: he meant it. Horror crossed his face. "You wouldn't..."
"Why not? We have cloning technology. We can create a whole new culture and repopulate the area at will. We control populations like no one ever has before."
"It is an unholy power you hold," Moreau said.
Dante Gallo shrugged. "Perhaps. But very little is holy these days. I would suggest you cooperate. Don't think that you can lie your way out of this. Some of the questions I'll ask we already know the answers. Not to mention that I'm augmented with technology that would detect a lie. And if I do..." Dante Gallo administered a mild shock through his mechanical hand, and Moreau tensed. "Now, let's begin..."
Dante Gallo
"Take his hood off," Dante Gallo said, intentionally choosing a tone that would chill the air. The two Praetorians yanked the hood off the prisoner, an older man in a tattered, soiled tuxedo, his hair disheveled, and unshaved. The man allowed his head to flop and rest his chin on his chest, looking up at Dante Gallo from below the eyebrows. It was an attempt at defiance, to give Dante Gallo the impression that the interrogation would be futile. But Dante Gallo was not impressed.
"Has he been conditioned?" he asked one of the Praetorians.
"We've been waterboarding him for the past few days, Duce," a woman replied. "He has resisted."
"I see." Dante Gallo approached the man, towering over him. "Perhaps he doesn't quite understand the position he and all the rebels are in. I'll be sure to make it clear."
"I know nothing," the man spat. "I was just a butler. I had no idea..."
Dante Gallo slapped him with his mechanical arm. One of the man's teeth flew from his mouth, and his face was red. A little more force, and Dante Gallo would have broken his jaw... an unnecessary waste. "Say all you like, pezzo di merda. I've dealt with bigger fish than you."
The man, panting hard, rasped, "Then why do you waste your time?"
"We've found that just about everyone in Barcelona has something to say," Gallo replied. He then sunk to his knees, and grabbed the man's face with his mechanical hand, jerking it to his eyes. "Name."
"Dartagnan Moreau," the man said. Dante Gallo looked to the Praetorian who spoke earlier. She nodded in affirmation.
"Good man," Dante Gallo said.
"That's all you'll ever get from me," Moreau said.
Dante Gallo chuckled. "Have you forgotten who you are dealing with? You're not playing games with the French, Dartagnan. You're dealing with the Romans, the men who took over the world once, and will do it again if necessary. We know how to build empires, sir, and there's only one way they are built: blood. Lots of blood. And don't think we won't resort to killing every man, woman, and child in Spain if that's what it takes to quell this insurrection."
The man looked Dante Gallo in the eyes, and realized that Dante Gallo wasn't being rhetorical: he meant it. Horror crossed his face. "You wouldn't..."
"Why not? We have cloning technology. We can create a whole new culture and repopulate the area at will. We control populations like no one ever has before."
"It is an unholy power you hold," Moreau said.
Dante Gallo shrugged. "Perhaps. But very little is holy these days. I would suggest you cooperate. Don't think that you can lie your way out of this. Some of the questions I'll ask we already know the answers. Not to mention that I'm augmented with technology that would detect a lie. And if I do..." Dante Gallo administered a mild shock through his mechanical hand, and Moreau tensed. "Now, let's begin..."
Agent 89
King
- Joined
- Apr 26, 2009
- Messages
- 978
"So this is what its like to be an officer", Ahmad thought as he entered the train compartment he would be sharing with a fellow major. Instead of the cramped sleeping quarters that he was used to, Ahmad had entered a room that, while not luxurious, at least had two semi-comfortable beds and its own bathroom. Depositing his bag in an overhead compartment, Ahmad reflected on his luck over the last few weeks. The army starts adding several new elite Janissary divisions, and all of the sudden all it takes to become an officer is starting up a conversation with the man next to you in the bar. Of course, his stellar record as a soldier hadn't hurt his chances either.
And now here he was, leading his own company off to another war against Allah knows what country. Except everyone did know, even if it wasn't official yet. Just by turning on the radio, the answer became blindingly clear. In fact, when Ahmad reached over and turned on one of the local stations, he could hear the hate beginning to brew among the civilians. A particularly fiery imam by the name of Ali Jafari was delivering a speech to a large crowd in Tehran, and his booming voice was almost drowned out by the boos of the crowd, directed not towards him but the subject of his speech.
"Children of Allah, brothers and sisters of the Umma. Our nation, under the leadership of our beloved Supreme Leader, has achieved the will of Allah time and time again. By banding together under Islam, we have defeated the Order, the Indians, and the Russians, and served to unite the Muslim world. Yet one threat looms larger than all the others, and has for too long been ignored. We have paid a terrible price for our preoccupation, for while we carried out Allah's work to the East and to the South, Shaytan, the devil, has been plotting to the West. And now, after all these years, he reveals his true colors. That is right my brothers. I speak of the Romans, and their treacherous leaders who are none other than the servants of Shaytan, seeking to carry our his nefarious work here on Earth."
"The Roman government has long worked in secrecy with their allies, under the leadership of the devil incarnate Nico Romano. And now they have revealed their true purpose. These Romans seek to challenge Allah himself in the name of Shaytan. They tamper with the very strands of life that Allah created so long ago, and they attempt to take these powers for themselves. Yet those who seek the power of Allah for themselves will inevitably fail, for Allah will strike them down with the sword of justice. I come here today to tell you my brothers, that we are the sword of justice that Allah wields. He commands us to strike down these servants of Shaytan. To destroy their monstrous creations. And it is the duty of Muslims everywhere to follow the will of Allah. That is why you, the men of the Umma, true followers of Allah, must take up arms and join this great jihad. Those that do will be marching in the name of Allah, and thus cannot fail."
And now here he was, leading his own company off to another war against Allah knows what country. Except everyone did know, even if it wasn't official yet. Just by turning on the radio, the answer became blindingly clear. In fact, when Ahmad reached over and turned on one of the local stations, he could hear the hate beginning to brew among the civilians. A particularly fiery imam by the name of Ali Jafari was delivering a speech to a large crowd in Tehran, and his booming voice was almost drowned out by the boos of the crowd, directed not towards him but the subject of his speech.
"Children of Allah, brothers and sisters of the Umma. Our nation, under the leadership of our beloved Supreme Leader, has achieved the will of Allah time and time again. By banding together under Islam, we have defeated the Order, the Indians, and the Russians, and served to unite the Muslim world. Yet one threat looms larger than all the others, and has for too long been ignored. We have paid a terrible price for our preoccupation, for while we carried out Allah's work to the East and to the South, Shaytan, the devil, has been plotting to the West. And now, after all these years, he reveals his true colors. That is right my brothers. I speak of the Romans, and their treacherous leaders who are none other than the servants of Shaytan, seeking to carry our his nefarious work here on Earth."
"The Roman government has long worked in secrecy with their allies, under the leadership of the devil incarnate Nico Romano. And now they have revealed their true purpose. These Romans seek to challenge Allah himself in the name of Shaytan. They tamper with the very strands of life that Allah created so long ago, and they attempt to take these powers for themselves. Yet those who seek the power of Allah for themselves will inevitably fail, for Allah will strike them down with the sword of justice. I come here today to tell you my brothers, that we are the sword of justice that Allah wields. He commands us to strike down these servants of Shaytan. To destroy their monstrous creations. And it is the duty of Muslims everywhere to follow the will of Allah. That is why you, the men of the Umma, true followers of Allah, must take up arms and join this great jihad. Those that do will be marching in the name of Allah, and thus cannot fail."
Circuit
Writing Letters
Ah, shyoot! May the best man win.
I'm sorry I am going to have to drop the NES now, been getting ready to leave for Ft. Lewis on Monday and haven't had any time to send orders. I may get around to writing up one last story about El Jefe, but that'll be it, as I'm sure the NES wont be running any more in August.
Anyways, its been fun, look forward to next summers INES!
Anyways, its been fun, look forward to next summers INES!
TheLizardKing
Let's talk Michelle.
The Red Bandits flew in formation over Bamako. Finally, they had the new planes they'd been promised. Finally, they could deliver what the Kelen's fists to the enemy in a fashion unmatched by anyone else.
USACS has always had a proud, large airforce. And Dúuru Khalif was happy to be a part of it. Only this time, this mission wasn't to fight the imperialists in the far reaches of the step, or over the humid island of Ceylon. No, this time Dúuru Khalif felt that his true test as a person was at hand. And so, as he flew over the atlas mountains, he scanned the horizon, eyeing the other stark red planes that flew with him, and knew, that there was a good chance he wasn't coming home this time. And, the funny thing is, he was quite alright with that.
To live and die for the Kelen. That is his purpose in life. And every life needs a purpose. The Wɔɔrɔ had their paperwork, the Seegins had their factories, and the Wólonwula had their farms. But Dúuru like him, they had their military toys.
And so as he flew into the horizon, closer towards the sea that separated him- well, Kelen knows where, he took one last look at his awful Russian wife's picture, set his plane to auto pilot for a bit, and closed his eyes, excitingly waiting for what the future might bring.
USACS has always had a proud, large airforce. And Dúuru Khalif was happy to be a part of it. Only this time, this mission wasn't to fight the imperialists in the far reaches of the step, or over the humid island of Ceylon. No, this time Dúuru Khalif felt that his true test as a person was at hand. And so, as he flew over the atlas mountains, he scanned the horizon, eyeing the other stark red planes that flew with him, and knew, that there was a good chance he wasn't coming home this time. And, the funny thing is, he was quite alright with that.
To live and die for the Kelen. That is his purpose in life. And every life needs a purpose. The Wɔɔrɔ had their paperwork, the Seegins had their factories, and the Wólonwula had their farms. But Dúuru like him, they had their military toys.
And so as he flew into the horizon, closer towards the sea that separated him- well, Kelen knows where, he took one last look at his awful Russian wife's picture, set his plane to auto pilot for a bit, and closed his eyes, excitingly waiting for what the future might bring.
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