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"Everything's fading away," he said, putting down both his newspaper and his cup of coffee, spilling nothing as the train whisked across the countryside. His re-election campaign had been going well in the north and west, decent in the east, and poor in the south. His next stop was Corda, where if he could swing the vote there, he might just keep his spot in the Deltannian Senate.


Times had been difficult in the past months. The EOS was defunct, the few benefits they gained gone. Nothing came of a pact of the powerful nations of Europa in the Northwest Corridor. Internally, protests were on the rise, several riots breaking out across the nation. Luckily, the media had been suppressed enough to contain the damage but action was mounting against them. Even Ide Jima, on which he had gambled his election and won on, they were gone too, consumed in chaos and anarchy. Their treaty was over.


Therefore, when the trained stopped and he departed to meet those in the town of Corda who supported him, it was no surprise that a bullet, much like that train, whisked through the air, thus ending Senator's Long re-election campaign.




"... and not only have local police begun their investigation into the matter, federal authorities have begun both an investigation and a lockdown of Corda, imposing entry/exit limitations and curfews on the citizens. Please stay tuned with the Deltannian News Network as we bring you the latest on the death of Senator Arturo--" The TV went black.


"Begging the Captain's permission, sir, we shouldn't be out here like this."


"Your position has already been noted, Commander. You, nor I, have any say in what the higher-ups have to say. Hell, I don't even think they had much say in the matter."


"Sir,, we can't just--"


"Commander! Port Authority and the Coast Guard have as much as they can spare out, but the Council has decided to restrict port access until the situation has been resolved. Therefore they need the navy."


"So what are we going to do, shell the next ship we see passing?"


"If our orders tell us to, yes."


"This is NOT what the Esseus was built for!"


"The Esseus-class cruiser was built for whatever our country needs us for. Now we're going to follow orders, and that's that."


"This is utter lunacy. Sir."




"Riots in the streets on both sides, the military stretched thin, people on edge from lockdown procedures. Exactly where we wanted them."


"Better, I believe."


"Yes, he's quite right, the anticipated response was worse than what we have now."


"In any case, we need to be careful. We're a small majority and I'm sure agents will be looking into us even as we sit on the Council floor."


"They can do nothing, they cannot connect us to this assassination! Impossible!"


"Most likely not. But, we must be careful nonetheless. Return to secure channels for any contact between all of us. And speaking of that, use those channels to start contacting our cells abroad. It's time to bring the Nationalist Party home."




In the capital city of Delta, the marches had formed, the protests begun. The police, already on the streets en masse, could do very little to stop them other than in creating a public relations nightmare. They simply focused the crowds as best they could.


It was ironic then, through miscommunications, when both opposing sides met at the Circle of Hanthen Blaine, all looking toward the founding father of Deltannia through different eyes, then coming to see the other side with hatred. The marches began to circle around the statue, police and military trying to prevent the tension from sparking, failing as the fighting began....

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Vocia, Capital of Vocenae


"...And strengthen the border patrols and have the Coast Guard upgraded to high alert status, whatever is going on up north, I don't Deltannian refugees bringing their trouble here. Inform me immediately if they actually catch anyone, I don't to cause a diplomatic problem if we have foreign citizens sitting in a our jail cells."


"Yes sir!"


Trejik smiled as he watched the aide rush off to carry out his orders, feeling rather pleased with himself. It was his first real order as Magistrate of National Security and it felt good to be the boss for once, though he still had to answer to General Korrino whenever the man saw fit to impose himself.


"Small price though, at least I don't have to deliver coffee and fly half-way around the world to failed conferences... He thought mildly as he sank into his comfortable chair in his large, and most importantly, private, office. He was just beginning to look through the Adapton border reports when his intercom buzzed.


"Yes, Helia, what is it?"


"The Lieutenant you asked for is here, sir" Helia Triasky reported from the front room, her voice bubbly and friendly, but at the same time cold and detached.


"Good, send him in."


The door opened and a tall man dressed in a tanned officer's uniform strode in. Trejik met him at the front of the table and returned the crisp salute the Lieutenant was giving him.


"At ease soldier, and please, take a seat" Trejik gestured at the rigid chair to his left and without a word, the other man took it.


"I suppose you'd like to know why I pulled you out of your station down in Sydvami, Mr. Cressen?"


"Yes, I'd like to know why I was pulled directly from my unit and shoved into a fancy jet while they head out to fight those damn insurgents without a leader they can trust." Danis replied harshly, and Trejik had no trouble telling the man was angry, furious even.


He sighed and moved over to the small bar next to the desk, preparing and serving the other man a small glass of brandy without asking, a technique he had learned from years of watching Korrino. It was a power move, made to show Cressen just who was in charge of this conversation.


Danis pushed the drink away and continued on. "Do you think they'll survive with some snotty suit fresh out of officer training? The man didn't even have a single combat star for cripes sake! It's like sending a..."


"You're being promoted, Danis"


That stopped the rambling instantly.




"I said you're being promoted. From this day onwards you'll be the head of the international affairs branch of the Imperial Bureau of Investigation. It's a nice juob, lot's of hands-on work, you'll love it"


"But why? I'm not trained for detective work, I'm just a soldier!"


"Because I need someone trained in covert operations, has combat experience, and can lead. You were the only candidate that I felt was qualified, since you pulled off those missions during the AdSoc War. And because we believe Deltannia may be palnning something."


"The northerners? Why?"


"Because two weeks ago someone put a bullet in the head of one of their more prominent senators, and they've been moving miltary units in to help the police in the capital, but we're not completely clear for the reason. Satallite imagery shows that there's been a few riots in the streets but other than that, we just don't know."


"...Have you even contacted them about it?"


"We're taking a more 'see for ourselves' approach to this. The Imperial Council feels that since we haven't had many relations with Deltannia outside of a few border security talks, they'd respond harshly if we suddenly took an interest in the movement of a few tanks and boats."




Outside, the moon began to rise over the Kosscow, casting it's long, pale glow across the water and the city.


"I believe that should be enough to get you prepared for your new job. Just tell Helia outside that your ready to be taken to the IBI headquarters. Good night, Agent Cressen."


With that, Trejik returned to his chair and began looking over the Adapton border report, seemingly forgetting the rather shocked man right in front of him. It was another control tactic he'd learned, and only looked up from the paperwork once Cressen had left the room.


"One problem down, more than enough to go..."


And then his private line to the General's office began ringing.

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One could quite easily say they were all a little on edge.


They had been sent in to assist national guard units across the region. This company was to take hold of the village and the surrounding area, a simple hundred men. Forces were too thin for this operation, and the company commander knew that. But he had his orders.


Relocations had already begun to take place. Encampments had been set up in coastal areas where people would be held temporarily until the situation was resolved. It was for their own protection.


"Corporal, take your men down to those houses down along the riverbank. Get these people out of their homes and in line for the convoy."


"Sir, shouldn't we at least wait until daybreak?"


"Command wants these people relocated now, corporal. Follow your orders."


"Yes, sir!"


Traveling for days to reach this far region, they were all tired. But it was the scouting on foot for two days now that had been exhausting on them. The corporal took his men down, and could hear the cries of other villagers being herded out of their houses on the other side of the river.


"Let's get these people out! Let's go people, move along! This is a temporary movement! Do not take anything of value, you will be returned to your homes shortly! Everything will be provided for you!" he shouted, then to one of his men, "Lead them across the bridge to the convoys, and keep them calm."


"Yes, sir."


"Corporal! Corporal!"


"What is it, Private?"


"That cluster of houses, all empty sir."


"Empty, that's impossible! They should all be here!" he said, those being the last words he would ever utter as a bullet came screaming at him.


"Sir!" shouted the Private, and those near them raised their TARs and began shooting into the dark, the villagers trying to duck cover. But chaos knows few limits, and with a lack of sleep, the soldiers began a reign of paranoia, and the massacre had begun.




*Off shore Aquatic Defense Platform*


"Passing ship, this is you final warning! Stop engines or we will fire!" Luckily for him and his conscience, they responded.


Inspections had increased seemingly exponentially over the past few weeks, most of them shifting to the ADPs now at sea. Most were stopping passenger vessels, cargo vessels, commercial vessels, etc. Not one had been a threat to Deltannia, it was a maddening prospect.


After inspecting their ship, they were told to alter their heading to go far around the Deltannian coast, and while the ADP was in international waters, they demanded this all the same. And, looking again into the distance, yet another ship appeared, ready to be contacted.


Any more weeks of this and they would all go crazy.




*A Coastal Camp*


It was so iconic, the movie-type camp-ghetto. But these people never realized that they'd witness people being put into them, much less themselves.


Those "necessities" that were provided were few. Those lucky enough to live in shacks instead of tents or boxes still had little heat, and the cold nights of Deltannia are unforgiving. Crime was rampant, this day alone had seen several murders, rapes, drug deals, etc. Which was exactly why the government decided to "intern the degenerates," as the Commandant once said.


But it was one boy of some unknown mixed race (he refused to say just yet) who gathered the people in a way not seen for centuries, since the days of Hanthen Blaine himself. He refused to let the guards throw off his plans, and the organization began. It was time for something to start.


Day by day, more busloads were filling up the already packed camps.


Order had broken down.


And revolution was brewing...

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Lieutenant, what are we supposed to do?"


"We need to turn ourselves in! People will understand."


"No one's going to understand what happened here."


"We did it in self defense."


"Then why are they dead!"


"Enough!" ordered the Lieutenant. They were in quite a situation, casualties on their side, civilian bystanders dead, and an angry group of guerillas attacking his men in the forested areas to the south of the Selne Harbor. "Get together a group of men, I want you to flank those rebels from over the hill side. Sergeant, keep a group of men by the river bank to keep them from running off that way."


"Yes, sir."


"We need to keep our heads calm. Everyone can and will get through this. People will understand what we needed to do here."




*Malthae Slums*


There was a band on the door next door. Then another. Then shouting. They said they were the police. Dang.


He woke quickly to wake the others. "Wake up, the blues are here!" That got their attention.


Another door was pounded on, no response on that one. They heard the door crash. He looked out the window and saw the clear night, but more importantly, the fire escape down. "Quickly, get everyone outside!"


They came to their door. "Police! Open up! By the Illegal Immigration Internment Act, you are to be brought to the nearest non-filled coastal camp! This is your only warning!"


The officer had no choice but to tell hi men to crash down the door. They had gone through the window, but the dozens of men on the streets would easily stop them. All of the rats in the building were going to be flushed out one way or another....

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OOC: Grey, I have no idea how you name your people so just toss me some examples and I'll correct them.


The insertion hadn't been the hardest that Danis had ever done, but it had certainly been the most complex. Fake I.Ds, crash course training in whatever gear he hadn't used before, getting used to the idea that he wasn't neccessarily a nameless soldier anymore, but an actor on the international stage.


And he wasn't alone.


Five others were heading into the field with him, two women, two men, and one boy who looked just a little older than fifteen, all of which seemed to take the switch of identities and the grand scope of the world of espionage all in stride. Vari Greishelm was the only one he had spent any real time with over the rapid briefing and training period, a pale, raven haired beauty of a 'commoner' woman who was to act as his 'wife' during the operation. And, as Cressen was starting to think, his watchdog. The others would be deployed all across the Deltannian penninsula and only rarely report back to him if they found something of interest.


After the intense training period, Danis and the others had been herded into non-descript cars that best fit each of their roles. He and Vari had been given a nice, but slightly cheap looking luxery car that fit into the comfortably middle-class role he was designed to play, the men were given economy cars for their working class images, and the boy was being piled in with the more burly looking man, to act as his 'son' until they got closer to the cities. The boy's role was to drift among the public and pick up any information that could be missed by the fixed roles of the others, then report it to whichever of the group was the closest.


They each crossed the border with relative, ableit tense, ease. The border guards seemed spooked, and checked Danis's and Vari's I.Ds several times before waving them through in a hurry. The first phase was complete, now all they had to do was blend with the populace and act like they had never been born in Vocenae.


That's what bothered him the most, Cressen thought. The idea that he had never been born in the country he had sworn to protect and serve, a newlywed husband to a wife he'd never met before coming back from a honeymoon they'd never had. Danis Cressen didn't exist anymore, and a man named Jameson Apollian did. He'd get over the identity crisis, just like he had during the AdSoc War when he impersonated a CP unit to sneak into the nuke facility on the evening of the final battle with those fascists. It was the thoroughness that had him nettled, the other times it had been just a case of mistaken identity that worked in his favor, this time he had to act as someone else entirely.


One other thing rumbled at the back of his mind as Vari pulled the car into their 'home' on the outskirt of Delta...The boy, and the skill he seemed to possess. It must have taken years of training to do that to him, and he wondered just how the Imperial Council could have allowed a young boy to be used like that...But, that would have to wait till later, now it was time to get to work.


Somewhere in Vocenae...


"I can promise you that whatever you had before, you'll get again as long as I have your word you'll give me the support I need, when the time comes."


"We've been waiting for this for years, Mr. Xavian. My colleague's and I are tired of living with the fear of being gunned down by a sniper whenever He feels like it and having whatever we couldn't transfer or carry out seized and divided amongst the lapdogs."


"So you'll help? With no additional demands?"


"Help us get back what we lost, Mr. Xavian, and we'll help you get back yours..."

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OOC: I have a lot of British type names, some with old English, even Greek sounds. mostly random, it's the hardest thing I have to do, coming up with names of things or people.




*Deltannian News Network*


With riots across Deltannia, the Senate has been asked to change the policy matters during this national crisis. The appointment of an acting Senator had these reactions on the streets:


"You know what I think of him? I think I should be doing that loser's job."


"I remember him from that fraud scandal, our government can't do anything right, geez."


"I say re-elect the whole lot of 'em."


Sources from within the Council have begun considering the removal of the acting senator, who was chosen by the other four senators, as well as the construction of a temporary Committee of Security to advise the Senate and push for new legislation. We'll have more on this story in one hour for the Senate's official press release.




"Mr. Nayer, you're on in fifteen minutes."


"Thank you," he said, as the press official left his room, closing the door. He had a few more things to discuss.


"This is it. You get out there and get elected."


"I still don't believe the Council will remove the interim Senator. they will not touch the Senate."


"The people will urge them too."


"On a few riots?"


"This is not just a few riots. Have you seen the news? Media streams from across Europa that still get through? This is our chance! And we're not going to waste it. You're the right man for the job, yes."


"And if they remove the Senator there will obviously be an election. But I still don't think there is enough forcing them too actually go ahead with it."


"Well then. We'll just have to incite a few more incidents, no?"

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  • 4 weeks later...

OOC: Sorry guys, still trying to find time during University Orientation. Working on it...




*Deltannian News Network*


Riots sparked today in several west coast cities marked another point in the citizen uprisings within Deltannia. Today, in Ankah, fourteen people were pronounced dead, with hundreds more wounded, after a firefight broke out between police and rioters. The Chief of Police had this to say:


"We will stand strong in the face of this unruly aggression towards common good."


Five of those fourteen are suspected to be citizens of other nations, their bodies are still being identified.

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OOC: Well, looks like I'm going to be playing a smaller part in this than I thought, now that I've got my own civil war getting started. Now I'm gonna be tying this in very lightly with my thread, because frankly I think Cressen is one of my better characters and he'd need to be involved in that. I'm not going to leave this thread, but I won't be as involved as I had planned to be. unsure.gif


Danis Cressen and his 'wife' Vari Greishelm had moved several times over the last month. Twice to avoid the attention of several military units that were trying to qwell the riots near Delta, and once to avoid a riot itself, and again because he had the feeling they were being followed.


He'd lost contact with his two operatives in the northeast, where the rioting had escalated to a breaking point. Needless to say, shots were fired, civilians were killed, and then the updates from that agent had stopped coming in. Another had shot off a small burst of information, something about a group that was working to prolong the riots in the local area. He had been in the middle of transmitting his findings when there were shouts, a loud crash, and then nothing. Danis had replayed the audio over probably a hundred or more times, and all he could make out from the shouting was 'internment'.


The next day the man's transmitter went silent. Danis and Vari packed up everything and left for the next town they had picked out. He felt guilty though, he'd been in Deltannia for a month and had little to report other than 'local agitation and wide-scale rioting' and now he was hopping all over the country unauthorized. 'Vacation' he had called it after Vari had protested after the third relocation.


Now he was sitting in a cheap roadside hotel that took cash and asked no questions. They were taking a break from the road to pick out the next town they'd move to, and he was checking on the news channels while Vari was in the shower.


Then the screen had flickered, and the face of a man he had seen at hundreds of inspections and operations.


Admiral Hadenar.

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OOC: That's okay. I think this will be more of a relaxed one because it will take place over a lot of time. That and I'm just busy and tired with new university life (Well, tired, not so busy)




*A small Deltannian harbor town*


Their ship had been traveling in the northern waters for weeks now, astray after a barrage of storms had battered them mercilessly. Their supplies had gone low after the storm, and they were a long way from home. The research team had decided to hug the foggy northeastern Deltannian coast for the past two days, and had, as they believed, unfortunately managed to avoid contact.


By the end of the third day along the coast, they had managed to come upon a small town with several docks, the captain deciding it was time to restock as they could. They attempted to pull up to the shore.


From along the docks, a loudspeaker sounded. "Unidentified ship, turn back from these waters immediately!"


"What the devil is this," said the captain allowed as he reached for his radio. "Deltannian shore, we are a neutral, international, small research vessel in dire need of supplies. We request-"


"No negotiations. Turn back now." At that moment, a single shore gun from atop the hill crest fired a warning shot that splashed a few dozen meters to port.


"This is madness! We need supplies or we will starve!"


"No negotiations! You have been warned!"


The captain was unsure of what to do until a small patrol boat came up along the docks out of the fog. He had the research ship turn away as fast as the engines could go.


The patrol boat followed behind them for quite a way until they were back out at sea. The ship was found some days later again along the coast, all hands dead.

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