StarDestroyer.Net BBS

CANTANKEROUS COILER COLLISION COCKUPS



Somewhere in Farbanti, Shroomania

"Motherfucker, it's a cruise missile submarine?!" the Prime Minister roared.

"Yup," Alison nodded. "Pretty much."

"How the hell did that thing sneak up into our water again?" Shroom spat.

"The grid we're making with Byzantium and the SNC isn't complete, and the ocean's a big place," Commodore Cornelius Coot explained. "It's a serious breech, and we're making inquiries as to exactly how the Coilers managed to sneak their sub into our waters. We think, and this is quite tentative so far, that the Coiler submarine snuck in through the Trans-Atlantic shipping routes, hiding in the wake of commercial ships to avoid detection. It seems likely, given Coilerburg's location relative to us..."

"We can't let this pass," Shroom growled. "Commodore, you've got my full permission to rip their submarine to pieces. They've got the balls to send their little submarine dicks at us? Well, let's see how they'll like it when we cut it to little pieces and send it back to them in the mail. How's about that?"

"We've been thinking of doing that," Cornelius smiled. "Besides, I think it's just a matter of time before the Byzantines come in and ask us to give them a piece of the sub. Eager Byzantine beavers."

"While you're at it, I want a Yer Mom heading for Coilerburg. Not right in their waters, though. Have it bring an escort."

"Very good, sir." Cornelius nodded. "Mister Prime Minister, what do we do about the Coiler crew?"

"Hrm..." Shroom thought. "Cut them to pieces and mail them back to Coilerburg with their ship."

"Wh-"

"HAH! Just kidding!" the Prime Minister laughed. "Make sure they're cared for properly and give them a proper interrogation. Feed them shitty food and give them shitty accommodations, but don't rough them up or anything. Oh, and don't give them any soap or shampoo or toothpaste. And no sweets. Make sure their tapwater is the kind that smells funny. And make sure they use used clothing. Don't give them back their clothes. For that matter, don't give them any mattresses. Let them sleep on chairs. And make sure their airconditioning is the noisy ones that keep you up at night. Make sure there are a lot of cockroaches in their lodgings, and rats too. Make the toilets malfunction - like, make 'em regurgitate shit whenever they try to flush it. And, you know, make them feel at home. Like they're back in goddamn Coilerburg. Fucking fringe world yokels."

"Indeed..." Cornelius nodded.

"And make sure they eat only leftovers!" Shroom declared before leaving.


Meanwhile...



Comberth Harbor, Shroomania

"NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Captain Corvin Cannula shrieked. The Shroomanians were taking massive steel-shredding chainsaws to his beloved vessel, they were tearing it to pieces. Dissecting it. Rending it piece by piece, for their goddamn engineers and military men to analyze and test to understand the naval secrets of Coilerburg. His mighty vessel, torn to pieces...

They were castrating it.


Back in Farbanti



10 Shrooming Street

Prime Minister Shroom went back to 10 Shrooming Street and decided to chillax while Alison went out to do something or another. Shroom settled himself on a couch and popped open a bottle of breastmilk, and began gulping it down.

After finishing it and giving out a mighty belching, the Prime Minister of the Sovereignty of Shroomania picked up a Pink Phone and pressed a button on the speed-dial.

"Hello?" Shroom began. "It's me, Shroom. Sydney, man, you've seen the news and everything, read the briefs and de-briefs and all that. You know what's going on. And you're in that goddamn continent, so you know what's up. So, I'm gonna ask you, man, what's going on? What the hell is up? Do you have any idea why the goddamn Coilers are sending half their cruise missile submarine force into my waters? What the hell, man?

"I mean, didn't you guys nearly go to war a couple of years back? Those guys, they're in the FTO with you, but I think they're a bunch of fuckers, man. And I know that you know that I think that you think they're a bunch of complete fuckers. Crazy Coiler crapsack cuntheaded cockfags, that's what they are. Goddamn it. A bunch of complete utter fuckopaths.

"Goddamn it, man. There'll be hell to pay for this, for them. They think they can just send their shit here and think nothing's gonna happen? Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em in their moms! Their moms!

"So, yeah, tell those fuckers that their men are safe, and that they'll get their submarine back... after we fix it up, right and proper. And, yeah, fuck them.

"Anyway, I hope you FTO guys know that they're a bunch of total fuckopaths. So you might not be so inclined to hang out with them, since they're a bunch of fuckopaths. Fucking... fuckopaths."

"You better watch out for those Miratians too. I don't like them."

Constantinople Times

Election season for seats in the Senate begins

Elections for seats in the senate are held every 4-5 years and the Emperor has authorized the senate to be dissolved. The elections will be held on 5th November and the three main parties are gearing up for a bruising fight. Up to 300 seats are up for grabs and how domestic policy for the next 4-5 years will develop will depend on which party gets primacy.

The three main parties are, the Byzantine Progressive Party (BPP), Monarchist Party and the Communist Party. While the BPP is largely neutral on the monarchy issue, the Monarchist and the Communist Party are polar opposites. The BPP however has been the dominant party for the last 10 years and their prudent financial policy, achieving a balance between socialist and capitalist tendencies in the country. The BPP has won praise for steering the country effectively together with the Emperor through the Pathogen crises. However, the Monarchists and Communists continue their some what populist rhetoric, with one advocating their support for the Emperor, while the other denouncing the Emperor and the Ecumenical Patriarch and seeking to bring about the new Communist revolution. As far as the Emperor is concerned, he is likely to sit pretty on this one. The Emperor is seen by all as a stalwart defender of Byzantine interests and most approve his management of foreign policy and military policy.

Concern about the recent Coilerburg incursion

Concerns are rising over the recent incursion by a Coilerburg submarine. There have been calls to tighten up the patrol of the Mediterranean and speed up the construction of the underwater detection system. The military has said that they are closely working with their Shroomanian counterparts to determine how best to counter the threats posed by foreign submarines. However, it is likely that the Exarch Decius is going to have a word with President Sidney Hanks of San Dorado to "put a leash" on their often rash brethen.

Shroom Man 777 wrote:"So, yeah, tell those fuckers that their men are safe, and that they'll get their submarine back... after we fix it up, right and proper. And, yeah, fuck them.

"Anyway, I hope you FTO guys know that they're a bunch of total fuckopaths. So you might not be so inclined to hang out with them, since they're a bunch of fuckopaths. Fucking... fuckopaths."

Sidney Hank had difficulty controlling his temper. “Yeah”, he murmured. “Yeah, ‘fuckopaths’. Yeah, that’s a term I can get behind.”

He took a deep breath. “Shroom, let me assure you of one thing: this idiotic action was in no way sanctioned by the FTO. We didn’t know, and we would never have signed off on this. Frankly I think I’m far more pissed-off about this than you are. And let me tell you that this stupidity will have consequences. Yes. Thank you.”

Sidney Hank slammed the phone down angrily and surveyed his plush office. He glared at the paintings on the wall and the bronze Silver Streak model that held down the thick wad of documents on his desk. He looked at his hands, which were shaking with near-uncontrollable fury.

The President knew he was a powerful man, and he wasn’t used to the way Shroom had talked to him. Coilerburgian scumsuckers he thought. I'll get even with you. His smooth, handsome features were twisted in such a grimace of rage that none of the people who had put their trust in him would have recognized him.

He began pacing through his office. Be calm he thought to himself. Give your attention to the immediate problem. Sort things out. You’re good at that. He took a crystal decanter from a cooler and poured himself a stiff drink. The rush of the alcohol did much to restore his calm. By the time he punched the buttons on the phone, he was his smooth, urbane self again.

“Get me Helena Skye”, he told the pretty secretary whose face filled the imager.

***

Diplomatic Communique, Priority One

FROM: Office of President Sidney Hank
TO: FTO Central Command
SUBJECT: Coilerburg Membership Status

In light of the recent incursion of Coilerburg navy assets in Shroomanian territorial waters the Corporate Republic of San Dorado calls for immediate censure of Coilerburg by the FTO.

Not only have their brash actions resulted in the alienation of Old Continent nations from the alliance, it also means that a Vigilant class submarine – the cornerstone of our strategic arsenal – has fallen into the hands of third parties, who are now busy dissecting it for all its secrets.

Coilerburg has significantly set back our diplomatic efforts, and imperiled our strategic arm. It is for those reasons that we call for censure.

We want the status of Coilerburg as an active member of the FTO suspended immediately, including its participation in the FTO’s joint nuclear program.

Signed,

Sidney Hank
President

***

“And make sure to leak copies of that message to the embassies of Shroomania, Canissia, Byzantium and PeZookia”, the President dictated. “That’ll hopefully convince Shroom and Heraclius of our good intentions.” Sidney Hank was beginning to enjoy himself. He was good at fixing messed up situations. Had always been, too. It was what had allowed his meteoric rise to power from a low-level dead-end managerial job with Standard Oil to his current position as President of San Dorado.

“Anything else?” asked Helena.

“No”, the President leaned back in his chair and took a sip from his glass. “Now we wait.”

Shady News

Air force Purchase

Su-37 in flight

A major trade deal has been made between the USSR and the CSR, according to which the CSR will supply the Shadow Air Force with a variety of new fighter aircraft. The first order is apparently of 58 Su-37s and 44 Mikoyan MiG-29s. As was announced this is merely the beginning of a modernization process for the USSR Air Force. Rumors are abound that other branches of the Shadow military will be undergoing similar modernization and reorganization.

Purchase from Byzantium

Increasing the modernization trend is a purchase of 16 A380AEW&CSI aircraft from Byzantium. The USSR Air Force has been lacking in AEW&C Aircraft, this has now been rectified. Shadow Engineers were dispatched to Byzantium to work out the specifics related to the electronics of the aircraft.

Sale of older Air Craft

The Shadow Air Force has announced that after it receives it's new aircraft, it will be selling some of it's outdated equipment- such as the MiG-21 fighter.

MUSHROOM MILITARY ALERT - TO ALL BRANCHES

Ladies and Gentlemen

- Increase readiness level to SHROOMCON 3 for all military branches except the Navy.

- The Navy will maintain SHROOMCON 2.

- Increase defensive readiness, on air and sea.

- Dispatch SAF-CAP to secure airspace and intensify submarine coverage of territorial waters.

- Aircraft carrier SSS Murderous von Schrom will support SAF combat air patrols and aid in maritime patrols.

- SSS Flattop and battle group will be re-deployed from the Pacific to sail east wards.

- SAF-SAC will maintain increased readiness levels.

- Yer Mom-class vessels have completed deployment to undisclosed locations.

Thank you

"You know, I don't know why the Warden was sent to Shroomania myself."

"I do."

Everyone in the room jumped as a strangely familiar figure-a skeletally thin, sick-looking blond woman suddenly appeared.

"Marina?"-Farve wasn't sure how he knew the name, but somehow he did.

"Yes. I sent the submarine, knowing full well that it would collide."

"You see, in two years, you, desperate for approval to get reelected, chose to launch a war against Shroomania, or more specifically, a handful of microscopic islands belonging to Shroomania. You were booted out of the FTO, and were losing the war. In desperation, you ordered a nuclear attack on Shroomania. Farbanti was nuked, and the Shroomanians responded in kind, by utterly destroying Coilerburg. Millions died."

"So?"

"So, me and Jeffrey met, and I came up with causing an incident in Shroomanian waters with that submarine. It would cost you half of your missile submarine strength and have the Shroomanians be on guard. Any opportunity for war would disappear. It worked."

For some reason, Farve believed her.

"Tell the other leaders about this-that way they'll know."

"I already have", she said, before disappearing.

She had indeed told the same story to President Hank and Prime Minister Shroom.

"As of now, the Vice President is in charge, and Congress is considering a vote for-"

"For what?"

"Becoming part of San Dorado."

"What? Surrender our sovereignty and national identity just for the sake of-"

"Ollie, you have to know that most Coilers are depressed about their national identity. We've always had poor leaders, and all our attempts to prove ourselves have failed. They're really considering 'If you can't beat them, join them'. Besides, being part of San Dorado means no more of this-idiocy, and it means that we get to keep our navy."

Later, the matter was indeed put to vote, and negotiations with San Dorado's government begun.

Smith-Hall Defense Quarterley


Cascadian Navy, Air Force to engage in anti-submarine maneuvers in wake of [i}Warden[/i] Incident.


The office of Defense Secretary Dale has confirmed reports from sources in Military Operations that the RCAF and RCN will be engaging in further individual and joint anti-submarine exercises this coming year in light of the recent incident where a Coilerburgian missile submarine managed to slip into Shroomanian waters before colliding with a Shroomanian submarine. "Cascadia's large coastline presents a severe challenge to efforts to keep potentially hostile missile submarines out of our waters," Dale's office noted. "Most of Cascadia's population lives within a hundred miles of the coast and our nation is thus highly susceptible to a surprise attack by such submarines."

According to the plan announced, the Navy will extend by a week carrier group "working up" operations in the home waters prior to their deployments to Veleria to undergo such "home water defense operations" with the Home Fleet and the Cascadian Air Force. Similar maneuvers will be held in the Van Halstoff Territory and Welles Island, with Adabani and Ashanti forces to participate in similar exercises out of New Olympia.

"The proliferation of missile submarines in the world necessitates these measures and the costs they incur," Secretary Dale's notice remarked. "The security of Cascadia and her friends is at stake." The Secretary did not refer to any plans for Cascadia to attempt to field its own missile submarines.



Amphibious Assault carrier begins shakedown cruise.


The Navy has sent the newly-commissioned CRS Constellation for her shakedown cruise, placing the 40,000 ton Cascadia-class on schedule for active deployment as the centerpiece of the Amphibious Contingency Force by the end of 2014. After her delivery trials and commissioning the ship has spent the time being further fitted out as well as taking on her air complement, becoming the only Cascadian "Marine carrier" to carry actual jet aicraft and not just helicopters. An air wing of ten Tonkinese-built Harriers, part of the batch of twenty-two ordered in 2009, will be deployed on the carrier for the shakedown cruise as the 1st Marine Fixed-Wing Squadron's Active Deployment Wing, the first such unit to be in deployment for Cascadia's Marine Corps since the 1950s.

According to official sources the Cascadian Navy has agreed to fund the raising of a fourth Marine Brigade to function with the ACF. When formally deployed, the ACF will remain forward-deployed for three-quarters of the year assigned to New Olympia Naval Base to provide swift amphibious support to necessary operations independent of the Navy's other carrier groups' dispositions. It is considered a key element of the Garrett Administration's North Velerian Patrol and Support Plan, aimed at protecting Cascadian interests and the Hasiyah Treaty signatories.

Serenity Sentinel

Astutes Commissioned

After a delay due to modifications and testings, four new Astute Class submarines have finally been commissioned. Joining the Serenite naval forces are the Jee-Sin, Ng-Mui, Pak-Mei, and To-Tak, with former three joining the Task Force Riki-Oh, and the latter joining the Mangka Carrier Task Force.

Increased Naval Activity

Ministry of Defense Spokesperson confirmed today that due to the Coilerberg submarine incident, Homewater Defense would be on higher alert monitoring Serenite waters. In addition, anti-submarine warfare would be emphasized in Task Force Riki-Oh, which is still assisting in protecting merchant and civilian ships in between the Akori Republic and Serenity.

Coiler wrote:“Congress is considering a vote for-"

"For what?"

"Becoming part of San Dorado."

"What? Surrender our sovereignty and national identity just for the sake of-"

"Ollie, you have to know that most Coilers are depressed about their national identity. We've always had poor leaders, and all our attempts to prove ourselves have failed. They're really considering 'If you can't beat them, join them'. Besides, being part of San Dorado means no more of this-idiocy, and it means that we get to keep our navy."

Later, the matter was indeed put to vote, and negotiations with San Dorado's government begun.

The Merger



Tower of Commerce, downtown San Dorado

The atmosphere in the stately boardroom was one of bewildered incredulity. “They what?” Sidney simply stared at Helena Skye, his Executive Director of Entertainment and Public, International and Corporate Relations.

“Their Congress passed a vote.” For once Skye sounded completely staid, with none of her usual quirky mirth. Her seriousness convinced Hank that this wasn’t a joke. “They are prepared to negotiate a surrender of sovereignty in order to become a part of San Dorado.”

“Become… A part…” The President was utterly agape. Six years going on seven and still this place manages to surprise me, he thought. “Let me run that by you one more time”, he muttered in an attempt to gather his wits. “They want to become a part of San Dorado.”

“Yes.”

“Okay…” Sidney Hank shook his head, then looked at all the other members of the Executive Board. “Okay. I have to say people, I honestly don’t know what to make of this. What are your opinions?”

Daphne Sinclair shook her head. “Take responsibility for Coilerburg, unstable and capricious as it is? Sweet Lady, I think it’s a colossally bad idea. This wouldn’t be any ordinary take-over, Sidney. This is an entire country. A country with a history. This can only end in tears.”

“I’m not so sure”, Iago Morgan sounded contemplative. “It’ll be a challenge, sure, but it’s also a major opportunity. An opportunity we’re never going to get again. If we succeed in stabilizing and incorporating Coilerburg we’ll double our GDP. Double our workforce. Increase our territorial holdings sevenfold. We’ll be the dominant economic power in northern Frequesue.” He fell briefly silent. "Meanwhile, if we cut them loose we'll risk Coilerburg descending into chaos. Another bout of overt instability will devastate their economy due to a halt of foreign investments and a currency freefall. In turn we could expect trade repercussions and instability in the surrounding nations, which will make the FTO as a whole look bad, which in turn endangers their image in the eye of investors..."

"Iago? I think we get it", smiled the President.

“Still. The challenges would be enormous.” Sandy Harmon frowned. “Uplift a nation as large as our own… And one as corrupt and notoriously unhinged as Coilerburg? I’m not sure if we’re up for it.”

Iago shrugged. “The potential gains outweigh the risks if you ask me.”

“How are we going to keep the peace?” Daphne wondered aloud. “When they see they’ll lose power permanently it’s just a matter of time before hardliner elements in their military make a move. And we’re not equipped to maintain order in such a large territory…”

“We are not. But we could bring in the FTO”, Sandy proposed. “As well as contractor peace keepers- Klavostani, Shroomanian… And without popular support, any insurrection is doomed to fail. No, I’m more worried about the economic and geo-political aspects than the military.”

“So,” the President spoke. “Assuming we pull through with this idea. How would we handle it? How do we maximize our reward-to-risk ratio?”

Morgan scratched his chin. “We could set them up as a daughter corporation. We’d finance them to an extent but mostly the place would fund itself until such time as we can determine they’re ready to be incorporated into San Dorado proper.”

“Hmm”, the President nodded. “They’d need a regional manager…”

“And an administrative cadre,” Daphne added.

“Who would form a sort of interim management with the current congress and vice-president of Coilerburg”, Iago continued. “Their principal task would be to keep the peace, purge the hardliners, and draw up a transition schedule with the assistance of the Board.”

“Apart from the military element, the biggest problem I think will be the shift from a vote-system to a shareholder-system”, added the President.

Morgan leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. “Substitute one vote for one share, with fifty percent of the shares owned by the populace, and another fifty by the transitional government. Form electoral districts, hold elections for a Board of the Coilerburg District. Then in due time we incorporate them fully into San Dorado, the two Boards are merged, and we sell off the government-held shares to the populace.”

The President considered that briefly. “That sounds like it might work”, he finally concluded.

“It sounds good in theory”, Daphne sounded sceptical. “Question is, can we put it into practice?”

“I think it’s worth a shot”, Sidney made up his mind. “It could just work, and frankly I think we owe it to the people of Coilerburg to try and improve their lot a bit.”

“That is all well and good, but do you think we can sell this crazy plan to the Board?” asked Helena. “They’ll have to approve of this first, after all.”

Sidney Hank just smiled, and looked out the window where the sun began to rise over the San Doradan skyline. “Are you kidding? A shot at expanding our internal market and holdings, just like that? They’ll love it!”

Result: Sod it, I’m taking over the place. All ahead full, and damn the torpedoes!

Suprise win by Centrists in the Caymans
Liberal Party wins plurality of seats
Nationalists agree to caucus with them to form a majority
Guillermo Márquez wins Presidency for the Naitonal Front


After more than a year of solid campaigning and more than a little bit of violence rampaging about the islands the Caymans have finally concluded the long process of reconstituting a government in the wake of the assasination of much of the senior leadership of both the Nationalist and Conservative parties. With the communist party active but still technically banned the Naitonal ront leading the charge against the old order of things in the Cyamans most pundits had been expecting a very close run of things as sentiment against the banking oligarchs and the criminal actions of the previous Nationalist government had led to a massive upswing in support for the National Front.

When the Wilkonian Peacekeepers, sent in when chaos descended after the murder of most of the Nationalist cabinet more than a year ago, working with the remaining government officials declared an election for a year out the expectation was that time would continue to strengthen the National Front's hand. The last four months of the campaign season have apparently shifted that. While reports remain sketchy from most sources it was apparent early when the charismatic Manuel de la Norriega announced his intention to run for a seat in Port Giap under the Liberal Party's banner that a movement was afoot to prevent a crushing win by the National Front.

Norriega was well known amongst most residents of the northern part of the Greater Cayman Island a the patron of virtually every social service in the area. With government funding of everything from schools to roads virtually non-existent outside of Andrews Island and Cayman itself it has largely been the work of locals to maintain such services. Norriega's past remains obscure outside of the published biography which includes his ownership of virtually the entirety of Port Giap's actual terminal operations however sources have indicated that the campaign of Norriega and his associates, which ended up sweeping Port Giap and the surrounding district, received backing from both Wilkonian and Tonkinese sources.

The Liberal Party, shortly after securing Norriega and his associates as running mates for legislative seats throughout the Port Giap area moved to recruit back benchers form the Naitonalist organization who had few ties with the dead party leadership primarily finding them throughout the whole of Lesser Cayman. In turn the Party would ride a strong showing throughotu greater and Lesser Cayman to a plurality of seats, claiming a near majority with 32 out of 78 seats. Combined with the Nationalists who won all 14 seats from St Andrews Island they have been able to form a majority coalition with the legislature and thus will have a huge say in the appointment of cabinet officials.

Meanwhile the National Front claimed, as expected, a clean sweep of Turcos and Santa Maria while managing to take 4 seats between Puerta Los Santos (1 seat) and Cayman City (3 seats) and with the strong showing throughout the islands where they were the sole opposition to either the Liberals or Nationalists they racked up enough votes for Guillermo Márquez to be elected to the Presidency. Already confusion amongst the existing merchant class of the Caymans has settled in as most are unsure of how far the National Front's leader will attempt to push an agenda where he will be easily overruled by the opposition party if he moves too quickly. Other observers have already noted that the senior leadership of the Liberal Party, while generally willing to work with the Nationalists are not nearly so committed to the existing pro-banking and export policies of the islands and instead have focused most of their agenda on infrastructure development (thus the popularity of Norriega who will be serving as Caucus Chair for the coming legislative session) while favoring continuing ties to entrenched Wilkonian and Tonkinese companies. The coming few years until the next election promsie to be truly interesting and most pundits agree that the Cabinet nomination procedure will likely be the first big step for the Márquez government.

Hong Kong Items

Protests break out in Coilerburg

Protests broke out today as citizens of Coilerburg marched against the recent decision by the legislature to cede sovreignty to San Dorado. ...

[ooc]Someone asked for protests?[/ooc]

The Fist of Allah (VI)



Near the Rangataran coast

The Fist of Allah slowly crept underneath the warm waters of the Bay of Rangatara. Through the periscope the jungle-green coastline was just an emerald sliver drifting atop the never-ending blue of the sea.

They had been here for three days now, circling slowly as if they were waiting for their prey.

On the bridge of the submarine the mood was tense. All the officers were imminently aware that they were still being chased by an unknown submarine. The thought that at any moment they could be torpedoed if another captain so felt like it was distressing, even if the thought that such hadn’t happened already went some way to reassure them that this probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

“What are we doing here?” Mohammad Jihad leaned easily against the open door to the bridge. Regardless of the knowledge of their pursuers the catlike mujahedeen seemed perfectly comfortable in the claustrophobic confines of the submarine. Captain Mohammad wondered whether that was because he felt completely secure in the knowledge that Allah would protect him, or because he was just utterly insane. With every passing day she began to lean more toward the latter option.

“We are watching”, the captain replied at long last. “And waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

Captain A'shadieeyah Mohammad crossed her arms and stared intently into space. “For the opportunity.”

***

Captain Kuźmierczyk paced up and down the bridge of the PeZookian submarine Orzel, heedless of the discomfort that caused his officers. He’d felt uneasy ever since the Crazy Ivan. There was something he was missing, he was sure of it. Their opponent was up to something, and he had no idea what it was.

“Sonar”, he called out for. “Anything?”

His sonar officer shook his head, a gesture made to look odd by the massive headphones clasped over his ears. “Nothing in particular. Quite a few noises, but very distant. That’s probably the Cascadian COG steaming up and down the coast.”

“That’s not what they’re after”, Kuźmierczyk shook his head. “These jihadis are smart cookies. Too smart to be suicidal. It must be something else...”

“Well, I’m not picking up anythi-” the sonar operator stopped mid-sentence. “Wait, hold on…”

***

Captain Mohammad peered through the periscope and smiled maliciously. It was true. There, in the distance near the coastline, something was moving. To untrained eyes it would look like only a fuzzy speck of black against the blue and green of the background but Mohammad was an experienced submariner, trained by some of the CSR’s best experts in recognizing ship’s silhouettes from afar in conditions far worse than these.

“It’s him”, she nodded as she pulled down the periscope.

“You are sure?” asked Faris al-Ghazi, her second-in-command.

“There can be no doubt about it. That is the traitor’s fuel barge. That is Omar Haytham.” Captain A'shadieeyah Mohammad leered viciously. “Gentlemen”, she announced, “The time has come. All crew to their battle stations. Load tubes two and three.”

“No mercy?” asked Al-Ghazi.

“No mercy”, the captain said grimly.

***

The Cascadian carrier CRS Defiant coasted through the East Velarian Sea, some forty nautical miles from the coast. She and the amphibious ships she was escorting were surrounded by an intricate web of outwardly spiralling defences: first the Phalanx guns, the RAM-launchers and the quad-pack Evolved Sea Sparrow missiles. Then the close escorts: the guided missile cruiser CRS Yukon, the air defence destroyer CRS Nathan Mackensen and two nuclear attack submarines of the Seawolf class.

Beyond the escorts sailed the outer pickets: three frigates of the Patrick Jefferson class and the forward DESRON formed by the destroyers CRS John Q. Adams and CRS John Hunt. High above patrols of Lightnings and Sea Shrikes of Defiant’s embarked air wings powered through the wet air, accompanied by an ECF-2 Skyeye AWACS craft.

It was a formidable armada, a fleet that packed more firepower than the entire arsenals of many Velarian states, a shield protecting the citizens of the Cascadian republics. Its weapons ensured the peace would hold; its multitude of sensors offered it an almost godlike vantage over the surrounding waters.

But to notice what was about to happen now she wouldn’t need her high-tech. The Mk. 1 Mod 0 human eyeball would be quite sufficient.

The quiet peace of the bridge of the Defiant was brutally shattered by an eye-searing flash as a titanic explosion lit up the horizon in the far distance. Searing flames boiled upward. The sky seemed to catch on fire. Then the roar of the explosion slapped across the deck of the Defiant in a gust of displaced hot air. Captain Whittaker watched in amazement as a scorching mushroom cloud rose skyward in the far distance. “What in the blazes was that?”

***

The crew of the Fist of Allah was too professional to yell or whoop, but even so a noticeable sense of excitement and satisfaction dominated the bridge. Weeks after the betrayal that had very nearly resulted in their untimely demise at the hands at the Zorian destroyer, the mujahedeen sailors had their revenge. Omar Haytham was dead. And what a magnificent death it was.

“The dajjal, the traitor, is slain”, the captain pronounced solemnly. “May Allah, the most gracious, have mercy on his soul. Allāhu Akbar!”

“Allāhu Akbar!” echoed the bridge crew enthusiastically.

“Shall I set the course?” asked Al-Ghazi.

“Yes. Set a course for those who come to us.”

***

Alarm lights were flashing on the bridge of the Orzel. The submarine was deep below the waves so it was not unduly inconvenienced by the explosion, but it was hard to miss the obliteration of the fuel barge. The rumble of the titanic blast easily would carry tens of miles, and the sensors of the PeZookian submarine were now picking up a massive and expanding pool of burning fuel.

“Christ almighty, what have those people done?” an aghast captain Kuźmierczyk wondered. He had little time to wonder, however.

“Enemy submarine is changing course!” one of the bridge crew announced. “They are on the move and accelerating!”

What on Earth are these people up to? the captain wondered. He shook his head. He didn’t have a choice. “Send word of this to ELF. And follow them!”

***

“This is going to be an ecological disaster of pretty significant proportions”, Whittaker’s XO murmured under his breath. He and the captain studied the footage that was transmitted live from a hastily scrambled helicopter. The sea just off the coast was transformed into a raging inferno as the waves carried burning fuel closer and closer to the shore. In the midst of the fire the last remnants of a squat-looking ship were sinking into the maelstrom of flame. A column of black smoke rose toward the sky.

“Do we have any ideas what the devil just happened people?” demanded Whittaker.

“Looks like that Akori fuel barge we picked up a few hours earlier”, the XO shrugged. “They were within Rangataran territorial waters however. Said they were under way to Hadhramara.”

“So, was this an attack of a stupid accident?” the captain asked.
“Sirs! DESRON leader reports they are picking up faint sonar echoes”, a lieutenant interrupted, holding one of the bridge’s telephones in her hand. “John Q. Adams is asking for permission to move in and investigate.”

“A submarine?” Whittaker frowned. He’d been briefed on mujahedeen activity on the high seas off East Velaria. This could be one of those ships. But they were an awful long distance from the Dragonsnake Basin. And why had they attacked a native fuel barge?

Whittaker made a split decision. This was a major incident, he couldn’t just let it slide. Besides, his fleet could handle a single small submarine. “Signal the fleet. Scramble ASW assets, we are moving in to intercept.”

***

The enemy was picking up an awful lot of speed, captain Kuźmierczyk noticed. They were up to sixteen knots and still accelerating, their screw making such a noise that Orzel couldn’t help but hear it. He couldn’t make heads or tails of their behaviour.

Then, suddenly-

“They are turning!” his sonar officer called out. “Shit- Crazy Ivan!”

“Quick stop, all reverse!”

“What are they doing? What the hell are they doing?”

“I’m picking up screw noises ahead sir” the sonar officer announced, who was finally able to hear beyond the screw noise of the submarine they had been chasing. “Uh, make that a lot of screw noises up ahead… Captain, we’re headed directly for the Cascadian battlegroup!”

Right that moment Captain Kuźmierczyk realized exactly what his opponent had been doing. Their noisy acceleration had prevented his boat from noticing the oncoming ships. They’d been leading him to exactly where they wanted him to be-- right in the path of an entire Cascadian combined operations group, a fleet which by now surely would have picked up the rapidly accelerating submarine and would be out for blood.

And now they’d pulled a bait-and-switch, leaving him like a deer looking into the oncoming headlights of an angry destroyer squadron, packs of ASW helos, Lord knew how many advanced attack submarines… And what were the chances the Cascadians would be able to tell his Type 212 from the enemy Type 209?

“Surface! Surface and extend the radio mast!” Kuźmierczyk felt like tearing his hair out. They’d tricked him. Played him like he was a green cadet right out of sub school. “Fuck!”

***

Three hundred meters beneath the surface of the Bay of Rangatara the Fist of Allah slid past the Orzel after making the steepest 180-degree turn any submarine could possibly hope to make.

“I am picking up pump noises”, the sonar operator aboard the Fist beamed at the captain. “The infidel submarine is surfacing captain, just as you predicted!”

“Allah provides”, smiled A'shadieeyah Mohammad. “Helm, bring us into the thermocline where the fleet will not notice us. God willing it will take them much time to come to an accord… Set a course for Hadramhara!”

By the time the PeZookian submarine captain convinced his Cascadian colleague of just what had transpired, the Fist of Allah was far away, and on a course to drop its unusual passenger on the shores of Hadramhara…

Result: Sayonara, motherfuckers! The Fist of Allah has shaken its tail and is getting the hell out of Dodge!

Off the coast of northern Hadramhara

The combined RTN-RSN naval force had recently been augmented with one of the RTN's light carrier groups to assist in monitoring the situation - and perhaps launch sustained raids against those who annoyed Tonkin. While Cascadia and the Jihadis had pretty much dealt with the nationalists in the north of Hadramhara, there was never a lack of enemies against capitalism to crush and bring into the fold.

Today, however, this enemy wasn't quite the usual idiot in Velaria. Flash traffic from the Cascadian COG indicated that some fool had blown up a fuel or ammunition barge within Rangataran territorial waters. This could not stand: someone was torpedoing traffic in the IRT's playground. Hadramhara? No problem. Rangatara? Hell no. And thus, ASW aircraft were being launched to hunt down the idiot who made a giant mess ... but there was a lot of sea, and nobody knew where a single SSK might be in these dangerous waters.

Shady News

Shadow Industries begin massive retooling of factories


Shadow Industry factories, which have been until now producing T-90 MBT's will begin a massive retooling process with Byzantine assistance, which will enable those factories to produce the newest and most modern tank from the Byzantine arsenal, the K-3 Black Tiger Tank. These technological marvels are equipped with Electrothermal-chemical guns, rocket propelled projectiles, and have an 8km range. Although much information remains classified, it is expected that these tanks will replace their older counterparts as the Primary MBT's of the Shadow Army.

Navalopolis Station

The entire Coilerburg Navy-one missile submarine, ten diesel submarines, three frigates, 27 corvettes, and four supply ships- lay in wait for the CNFN to collect them. As part of the terms of merging with San Dorado, Coilerburg's navy would be folded into the CNFN.

There were worries that some of the ships might break free and go rogue, or that they would be scuttled by overzealous crews to prevent them from falling into the hands of foreigners. Two Swarms had tried to submerge and escape, but were caught and forced back into harbor. Since then, no one had dared move.

Any second now, the CNFN fleet would be arriving to pick up their new ships....

The Merger


President Hank steps off Pride One, the supersonic presidential jet, after its arrival in Coilerburg.

It was a damned busy week for the President of San Dorado. Not a day had passed between the first tentative incorporation accord between the Congress of Coilerburg and the Board of Directors, and the outbreak of massive protests in the capital. The civil unrest was mostly the result of an incompetently worded statement by Acting President Trudeau which spoke of ‘ceding sovereignty’. Hardliner nationalists had immediately seized upon the statement to spread the rumour that the government was selling Coilerburg into foreign slavery, and chaos was the immediate result.

Wanting to waste no time now that the situation seemed to be deteriorating, the very next day the President of San Dorado landed on an airbase near the capital of Roterburgh. He held a short but positive speech before parliament, clarifying in front of the entire assembled Congress that it was absolutely no-ones intention to seize the sovereignty of Coilerburg. Rather, San Dorado was simply going to help out its good friends and long-term allies through very close economic cooperation. Promises were made of monetary injections, of economic revival, of trans-Frequesuan industrial cooperation.

It didn’t stop all the turmoil, not nearly so. But it was sufficient to calm down the inflamed sentiments at least a little. The protests continued, but they were far smaller now, and remained peaceful.

President Hank met with General Helmut, the retired former the head of the Coilerburg army. ‘Pappa Helmut’ was a well-respected amongst the military men of the nation, and the President hoped that his support would decrease the inevitable resistance among the soldiery against the changes that were to come. Helmut remained aloof and didn’tmake any promises. Still, the President theorized, at least he wasn’t overtly negative.

Next came visits to the capitals of neighbouring nations of Sabika and Omago, in order to clarify to the governments of those states what role San Dorado intended to play. Omago was alarmed by some of the proposed changes, but having been on the receiving end of more than one invasion they were more alarmed by the prospect of a wholesale failing of Coilerburg. Sabika, which for nearly three years now had enjoyed a profitable working relationship with San Dorado, proved more receptive.

Finally, Sidney Hank flew to Indhopal for a meeting with President Ahten, his primary ally in the region. Afterward he briefly met with long-exiled President Jeffrey. That was the only meeting that took place entirely behind closed doors, and little was released about what the two men had talked about.

Every visit was critical. And every visit was high-profile and followed closely by the cameras of the international media.

What the lenses of the media did not capture was the arrival of several military transport aircraft carrying CNFN marines, and Indhopali commandoes of the Special Reconnaissance Group. In the name of the FTO and with the tacit approval of Congress the soldiers quietly and efficiently secured the Coilerburg nuclear stockpile and naval assets. The very last thing Frequesue needed now was missing warships or – Sweet Lady forbid it – missing atomics.

Finally after seven days of criss-crossing the continent and an endless stream of near-constant talks, an exhausted Sidney Hank returned to San Dorado. As he landed on Camp Kittyhawk AFB he felt a proverbial load fall off his shoulders. Not everything had gone as smooth as he’d hoped, but the net effect so far at least appeared to be positive.

The merger had begun.

Result: President Hank personally flies to Coilerburg and the surrounding nations to reassure them we're not going to perform some insane powergrab, but rather are entering a process of gradual economic and political entanglement. FTO guys, assume that sometime in this week I've called all of you with an expansive explanation of this too (and obviously you knew about the operation to secure Coilerburg's nukes).

Ministry of Defense
b]Naval Operations Wing[/b]

"Sir I still think..."

"No"

"But the intelligence oppotunity alone..."

"No"

"May I ask why sir?"

"Damnit Jack stop pretending to be overly officious, just because you got SubRon 2 and I've got ComForPac doesn't mean you aren't still my friend."

"I know Will, but right now I need to know. There is shit going down around Valeria and I need to get at least a 2 ship set down there to take a look at it."

"YOu don't need to and I'll tell you why. We've got at least 3 non-combatant armed patrols going on down there by surface ships, lord knows how many patrols by submarine, we have the declared aggressors in the Zorians and we have whatever crap the jihadists have managed to throw together."

"Exactly my point Will, its a freakin ELINT jackpot but I've got nobody close."

"You've got Barros and Maran operating far enough south that they can move in if needed but they aren't. Aside from the newest stuff out of the IRT, who have been reticent about sailing too much where they know we patrol after the whole Shepistani shootout you had few years back with the Sims, there isn't a sub type there we don't have a gold palated reading on...what we also don't have is any damn reason to be there."

"Will"

"Damnit John, there is too much shit operating without any clear lines of cooperation or authority. Somebody, one of these days, is gonna ram a ship while surfacing or get sunk trying to track either the damn jihadists or Zorians. I will not risk losing another sub when I just KNOW, I feel it in these salty old legs John, that somebody's billion dollar toy is gonna get fucked right over."

"Allright Will, I'll talk to the Captain's next time they come far enough up for a SatComm check and keep 'em out of the zone but I'm gonna have 'em shadow anybody else the IRT sends that way. We missed the first group because we didn't expect them to actually sortie for this but if they send a second wave we'll catch 'em headed out or these guys headed back in."

"Do that John and on your way over to SatComm grab Juan over at the Ops desk and tell him to get his ass in here."

"Will do sir"

"Dismissed"

The Ring



Fabowice, the Blue Sky restaurant

It was a rather exclusive restaurant, of the kind where millions of dollars changed hands every day during power lunches and informal business meetings. It held all the trappings of a place for wealthy and sophisticated, with classical music played by a real band, liveried staff and obscene prices.

Filip Dobrzański felt a bit uneasy when he introduced himself to the maitre'd, saying he had an appointment here. He fully expected to visit another smoky night club or seedy bar, perhaps a run-down apartment somewhere. When he got the call from his contact, half of the ASTF scrambled to get him dressed up properly - he could never afford a suit fit for this place.

As the maitre'd led him towards the table where Filip's "business associate" was waiting, the detective looked around, recognizing several highly placed members of PeZookia's elite. Two fellow detectives were seated at one of the tables in case of trouble, and it didn't escape Filip's attention that several tables were taken by huge goons who could only be bodyguards. It was unclear for whom, however.

The man Filip came to meet was sitting alone, at a small table near the balcony, reviewing the menu. He didn't get up to greet the detective - pointing to the free chair instead, and waving the maitre'd off dissmisively.

"I would like to thank you for agreein to meet me...", Filip began, but the man raised his hand, without putting the menu down, "No business now. We will eat, then we can talk business.", he said, with a weird accent.

"Of course. May I ask your name?"

"No.", the man replied, and snapped his fingers for the waiter

Well, this was worth a shot, the detective thought. The man ordered his food, and Filip soon followed - he might as well use the opportunity.

They spoke politely about the weather and political climate, before they were served. It took them a while to finish their meal, but finally both men could get down to business.

"So...I was told you need a virgin."

"Yes. My employer has a particular need for unspoiled merchandise.", Filip said and took a sip of the best Canissian whiskey. He didn't really see why it was priced fifty dollars a glass.

"And your employer would be...?"

"Boguslav Miskevich."

A heavy silence fell above the table. The man was obviously taken aback by the name, but composed himself quickly, and turned from shocked to suspicious.

"Boguslav Miksevich is dead."

"No. His operation was shut down, of course, but you do recall the body was never found?"

"Why didn't I hear about him returning to work?"

Filip's heart began to race. It was a gamble, dropping that name. He had to make it work.

"He had to take some time to adjust to the new environment. You should know the trade isn't as easy as it was a few years ago."

They stared at each other, trying to guess at each other's intentions. Filip hoped to God he made a good impression with this lie - which he'd been practicing for several days now. The case would work or break right here, right now.

"I see. Why did he send you?"

"Are you kidding? What was he supposed to do, come himself? The third most wanted man in PeZookia?"

"Very well.", the man finally nodded, though he still didn't seem completely convinced, "I can get you a virgin, but they cost a lot of money. I take it Mr. Miksevich can pay?"

"We can offer four hundred thousand."

"No less than five."

Filip made a show of hesistating, but finally agreed. He felt the piercing eyes of the two goons from the next table on his neck the entire time.

"Okay. We can agree to five. What are your payment and delivery terms?"

ASTF hq, Fabowice Voyvodship Police Command building

"Question for today, people. Who the hell is this man?", Sebastian Watroba, Senior Comissioner, PeZookian Police Force, pointed to a huge blow-up of a photo taken by a police helicopter through a window of the Blue Sky restraurant, "So far, we don't know a whole lot. White male, about forty, black hair, horribly expensive suit..."

"He had a curious accent. I'm not sure how to peg it, but it didn't sound Border States, if you know what I mean. Linguists are trying to figure it out right now.", Filip remarked from his place at the conference table. The room was littered with photographs and they in turn were plastered with sticky notes and handwritten remarks. Diagrams and crude drawings created a picture only a cop could read.

"He checked in as John Smith. Literally, John Smith.", this remark came from Amanda Kulinska, second-in-command of the ASTF, "I think it's a safe assumption the name is false. Paid in cash. I assigned Tomek and Stas to initial surveillance for now, and computer techs are building a face recognition profile for the monitoring system."

"You know, we ordered a virgin from him. I wonder if they keep them in store somewhere, or just kidnap them on demand?"



Shadow Republic Of Sjenska, People's Victory (Former Karic's Pride) International Airport, two hours later

"Passengers of flight LOT325 from Orena please proceed to the customs desk", the accented voice called out over the PA system of the shiny new terminal. Since the annexation, the USSR has been pouring money into the dilapidated and neglected infrastructure. The international terminal at People's Victory, former capital of Sjenska, was a result of this investment, and the movement of tourists and businessmen it facilitated helped the region build up a new, robust economy. One other thing it helped was movement of Sjenska expatriates who finally decided to return home - to build new lives here, or just visit the families they left behind long ago.



"Nadya Midzic?", the Shadow customs agent asked a young blonde, looking at her passport. It said Nadya Midzic was a citizen of PeZookia, and she had all the necessary visas. Still, the name was on The List.

Nadya sighed, seeing the agent's expression. It wasn't easy being related to the most wanted woman on the Old Continent - not two years ago, she spent a really unpleasant week being interrogated by various security agencies, before finally being let go. To this day, she wasn't sure if her phones weren't tapped.

"Yes. I'm probably on your suspect list: please check me, but be quick about it, okay? I'm in a hurry."

The customs agent obviously didn't care. PeZookian citizen or not, he'd do his duty.

"Please step aside, comrade, and open your luggage.", he said, passing Nadya to his colleague. Himself, he typed the name into a computer terminal at his station.

Nadya groaned, but complied with instructions. It was no use arguing, anyway.

It took a nervous twenty minutes, during which her luggage and handbag was thoroughly searched, and her passport verified in every possible way. The customs agents briefly considered detaining her just to be sure, but eventually decided to just let her go, notifying NOD to monitor her movements around the country.

Sighing, Nadya walked outside the terminal, when someone bumped into her.

"OH! Sorry! I'm so terribly sorry, let me help you with that...", the man apologized, and began collecting Nadya's things. He wore an expression of a beaten puppy while doing it, which somehow made her incapable of getting worked up over the whole issue. She smiled and thanked him for the help.

"I'm Peter, by the way.", he said once Nadya's luggage was all in order. His accent was kind of cute, too - North Canissian, it seemed, "You're on vacation here?"

"Visiting family, actually. My mom lives here."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm on vacation here, but I think I kind of got lost...are you going to the city?"

"Yes, actually."

"Hey, maybe we could share a cab?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Great!"

“He is your first choice?” If Sidney sounded incredulous, it was because he was.

Iago gesticulated carelessly. “He single-handedly improved the performance of more Fortune 500 companies than anyone else. He managed to patch up our corporate image after that massive corruption scandal in the nineties. When it comes to restructuring, rebranding or reimagining there is no better candidate. Not anywhere.”

“But his people skills are atrocious.”

“Acting President Trudeau is an adult. I’m sure he can handle it.”

The President threw up his hands in defeat. “Alright, it’s your call. But if this goes south don’t tell me I didn’t warn you. Have you made the call?”

Iago smiled mischievously. “No. I’m leaving that to entirely up to you.”

Sidney groaned. “I was afraid you’d say that...”

The Fixer

Willy Bank Consulting, downtown La Palma



“Bank.”

“Mr. President, what a surprise. It’s been... How long since Standard Oil?”

“Fifteen years? Oh my. Time flies! And my time is valuable, so why don’t you say what you want from me.”

“Coilerburg. Alright, can they even afford me? Because it’ll cost. Bigtime.”

“Have you forgotten who the fuck I am? Of course I can manage it. But you better make sure I get paid.”

“Tell this Trudeau guy I’ll do it on two conditions. One, I say what I mean, I do what I say, and he does what I tell him to. Two: he better not waste my motherfucking time!”

Result: San Dorado dispatches the ultimate corporate fixer, Willy Bank, to fix up Coilerburg... Unfortunately Mr. Bank is probably also the least empathic person on the entire continent .

Seaside Palace, Canissia





It was a weekend morning, and King Arik was absently watching cartoons with his kids while having leisurely sips of mocha --a weekend indulgence-- and a delicious buckwheat-mix blueberry waffle with real maple syrup from the Picon province. Most of the kids weren't really watching cartoons, except for Chyou and Nafrini; most of them were quietly playing on the floor with a variety of cars, trucks, dolls, toy soldiers and giant robots from some Serenity animated series that was currently popular.

"Dad-dy?" Cailin suddenly sprang up on the sectional, "Can we build a treehouse?"
"A treehouse?" Arik asked. "Here?"
"Yeah!" Tristan suddenly said, abandoning the giant robot that was laying waste to a small town that seemed to be populated by dump trucks and Barbara dolls. "A treehouse! One with a fire pole, and a jungle vine swing."
"And cable," Aitan said, very serious. "Although satellite's okay, too." Arik glanced at Shawna for support, but she just shook her head.

"In case you kids hadn't noticed, the trees around here are all palm trees," he said, "You can't build much of a treehouse out of palm trees. Although we could build a treehouse up north, in the family hunting lodge up in Picon."
"But daaaaady!" Cailin moaned, "We only go up there once or twice a year!"
"For about two weeks at a time," Aitan reminded him, "We could only use it then."
"Kids, I'm sorry, but I didn't build the trees here. That's the only choice we have."

"You can take over PeZookia," Antony spoke up suddenly, "They have lots of trees."
"I'm leaving the political future of Canissia in the hands of people who would take over another country so they could build treehouses?" Arik asked, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Yeah," Antony said, as if nothing could be more obvious.

"I'll tell you what," Arik said, "You kids think up what kind of treehouse you want, and I'll make sure all the wood and everything is pre-cut and delivered to the hunting lodge, and next we go there we'll spend three weeks and build an awesome treehouse, okay?"
"Okay," Aitan said, giving in way too easily. "So what can we get here, at home?"
"What do you mean?" Arik asked.
"We negotiated the treehouse in Picon," Antony said, "But we will only go play there once or twice a year. So what can we have that's fun here?"

"Go-karts!" Tristan said. "And a track. A race track!"
"Doggies!" Chyou said, suddenly entering the conversation.
"Doggies!" Nafrini agreed. Pretty soon, the kids were chanting, "Dog-gy! Dog-gy! Dog-gy!"
"Poop!" Arik said, "Poop! Lots of poop! And little shovels in your hands as you scoop it up!"

"We'll take care of them," Antony promised.
"Them?" Arik asked.
"We can't all share one doggie." Antony said, although Arik didn't see why not.
"One doggy for two children," Arik said, "And you kids --not the Palace staff-- will take care of them. Feeding, playing, exercise, and poop scooping!" Arik folded easily on this-- he loved dogs himself, and had many while growing up. The kids were celebrating as Colonel Rassnar entered.

"Morning, Colonel," Arik greeted.
"Good morning, sir," the Guards Colonel said, smiling at the antics of the children. "We sent our congratulations to President Garrett, as asked, and I ran across this announcement from the USSR," he said. Arik looked over the printout.
"MiG-21s?" he asked, "What were you thinking?"
"Well, sir, the situation in Veleria is heating up, and the peace talks are off to a shaky start... we may have to accelerate our plans in the area and modernize the Katangwans a bit faster than we'd earlier predicted. These would be a good early generation fighter to start them into the jet age."

"Not a bad idea, overall," Arik said, "Alright, let's do it. Contact the USSR defense minister and see about getting, um, six regular squadrons and two squadron of two-place trainers. We'll convert one squadron of trainers into bombers."

"Very well, sir, I'll contact them immediately."




Results:
Kids negotiate a treehouse AND dogs.
Congratulations sent to President Garrett.
8 Squadrons of various MiG-21s ordered from USSR.

TOUR GROUP



"Now we're heading for the Warden's engine section," the tour guide intoned and gestured for the benefit of the tour group. The group itself was composed of highly-cleared men and women from the militaries of the SNC - Byzantine, Crimson, PeZookian and Shadow. "Since the Coilerburgers use FTO designs, this reactor is a great sample of Frequesean nuclear technology. Its completely modern, state-of-the-art, well-designed and on par with Old Continent and MESSican designs."

"It's on par with Old Continent designs..." one of the Byzantine 'tourists' muttered beneath his breath. "...because you Shroomanians sold your reactor designs to the goddamn San Doradoans."

"Quite," the tour guide crinkled her nose. "Now, up next we'll be visiting the Warden''s weapons systems, to see a completely indigenous Frequesean design. Namely, the Valiant-class' vertical launch missile silos that contain, amongst other things, nuclear tipped cruise missiles."

A PeZookian raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Will we be seeing the missiles themselves?" the PeZookian asked.

"No, I'm sorry. They're no longer on board the ship," the tour guide answered. "The Sovereignty's Customs require any and all nuclear weapons to be declared upon arrival on Shroomanian territory, and noncompliance warrants the confiscation of said nuclear weapons."

That caused some laughter from the tour group, even from the Byzantines.

"Now, we're moving," the tour guide waved them on. "We're moving along."

LIVE on ShroomSat/StratTV
The Mushroom Military Messenger
SUPER SHROOMANIAN SUBMARINES


The fifth Yer Mom Yer Dad comissioned.

The Sovereign Navy has launched the second-to-the-last Yer Mom-class submarine in its current production run of six vessels. The Sovereignty will have six Yer Moms while the PeZookians have completed the construction of their four vessels - for a total of ten vessels in the joint Shroomanian-PeZookian strategic submarine plan.

However, with the recent events of the nuclear-armed Coilerburger submarine being captured in Shroomanian waters, many in the governments of both Shroomania and PeZookia have urged for the continued production of more Yer Mom vessels. The Shroomanian Minister of War, Duke Darvyl S. Byzon XVII, has proposed the construction of three more Shroomanian Yer Moms and two more Moms for the PeZookian - putting the total number of the submarines at fifteen.

"If this plan pulls through, and by god I hope it does," said the Minister of War. "Then we can go on and name our combined sub-force the 'Fungal Fifteen For Freedom' and I say it sounds catchy. Especially when they're chock-full of nuclear missiles."

However, many in the government contend a force of six nuclear-armed submarines will be enough for current Shroomanian strategic deterrence needs - as the Mushroom Military begins to shift its priorities to space-based defense.

The Prime Minister, the Parliament, and the Ministry of War have agreed however to fund the construction of additional Virginia-class fast-attack submarines.

Operation Silver Shroom Soars



Spaaaaace
(The Final Frontier)

The vessel was invisible in the darkness of space and in that cold vacuum, its black hull was hard and rigid, protecting its crew from the dangers of decompression and cosmic radiation.

It drifted there. Its hull unmarked save for the markings of 'SAF Space Command' which belied its purpose of being out in the black. The black wasn't black though, space was dotted with little specks of light. Stars that weren't stars either, but lights. The light of cities, of countries, forming vague constellations that themselves formed boundaries that allowed one to tell nations apart.

The SAF Space Command vessel was high above those constellations. Those inside it saw the light of civilization, the light of cities, and perhaps they would've felt awe as they gazed down at that sight. But they didn't. There was no sense of wonder in those crewing the SAF spacecraft, very much not like their space cadet brethren in the FASTA capsules.

They looked down at that sight and saw that it was small. So small.

The light of cities far beneath them was insignificant, and could be blotted out and extinguished with but a fingertip.

"Brrr..." the SAF space cadet shivered. "There go my nipples again."

"We're ready to commence the operation. North Point, do you read me?"

"We gotcha," the ground control team answered back. "It's cold out there in space, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Makes the breath frosty. Gives my fingertips pinpricks."

"Good, it'll keep you awake. Space cadets, you're cleared to commence the operation."

"Transmitting information to SAF Space Command. You got it, North Point?"

"Got it. Recording and relaying to our friends over at Kittyhawk."

"Acknowledged, North Point. Firing thruster micro-burst to move into position. Readying primary sensor relay, arming primary weapons system."

"Right. You're on the mark. Proceed."

The vessel was invisible in the darkness of space and in that cold vacuum, its black hull was hard and rigid. It moved, not towards any of the distant citylights below it, but towards a patch of black in the night-obscured world beneath it. It was a place where there was darkness, for whatever light it had had long since been snuffed out.

"Heading's good. Sat and strats've relayed target telemetry. Ready to fire weapons, target Bleak Castle Astaria."

"Approach vectors are ticking off. Fire on my mark."

"Mark?"

"What? Oh, right. Mark."

Dawn broke over the patch of black in that night-obscured corner of the world. The tranquil blue ocean surrounding it and its cover of clouds gave no impression of the violence that had happened to it. Or any indication of the violence that was going to happen to it.


Bleak Castle, Astaria



The answer to infection was here.

The desecrated seat of the dead nation's capital was now home to marauders of man-meat. Those who had become less than human through disease, and those who hunted the deadliest game and thus - themselves - became inhuman like their reanimated prey.

The projectiles came down from the heavens like the thrown phalluses of the gods. In their wake the sky was shattered and on their impact, the earth was rend asunder. The KKVs needed no stinkin' warheads, as the shockwaves from their impact flattened Bleak Castle into a distinguished heap of rubble.

The infected, the survivors, and those who hunted the deadliest game for food or sport or both were all exploderized.

There was nothing left of them but for the raining organs of their desecrated viscera.


Results:
I has weapons test using Dyna-Shrooms I boughts from Sieges!

Zor wrote:"Forgive my poor choice of words. The statement was simply a statement of the fact that Zoria will defend her assets in Veleria against agressive actions, as has been the case. We are not looking to escalate the conflict any further than it already has gotten to and have no desire to see it's range further expand to incompass new peoples.

However, i am interested, proposal for a compromise."

"Here are my terms: First, the Malip who were driven out of their territories will be returned their territories. Those so-called lands you lay claim to are theirs by birthright extending back for generations. You will cease logging the territory. You will also compensate them for their losses. Second, You are allowed to extract mineral resources in exchange for a paying a tax on profits gained from the sales of the said resources. Duties will also be paid for the use of the Dragonsnake river. These will be paid to the Malip people who will be considered citizens of the new Republic of Hadramara. In exchange, I will rescind the fatwa for jihad and withhold religious sanction for any further attacks against Zorian troops, and pay compensation for those who were injured in the embassies destroyed."

FASTA bulletin

Soyuz 6 launch to proceed on schedule

Despite several delays due to technical problems and redesigns of EVA equipment, the Soyuz 6 mission will launch on schedule, on August 22nd 2013.

FASTA mission planners were forced to reconsider several designs for EVA and long-term habitation equipment in light of data gathered during the last two Soyuz missions, including the ill-fated Soyuz 4, on which astronaut Alan Shroompard suffered severe dehydration after a brief period of extravehicular activity, during which he's managed to save fellow astronaut Miranda Moonbeam.

Soyuz 6 is an ambitious mission which will both test maneuvering procedures for a tandem (or 'stack' in professional jargon) of space vehicles and effects of long-term human habitation of space during a 14-day flight. Several important scientific experiments are planned during this period, including but not limited to metallurgy, nourishment, plant and animal life, wide-spectrum photography and pharmaceutical manufacture.

Saturn I life-size mockup to undergo wind tunnel tests

With development steadily proceeding forward, the first full-scale mockup of the Saturn I rocket and one of the planned liquid-fuelled supplemental boosters will be shipped to Shroomania, where it will undergo tests in one of the world's largest supersonic wind tunnels, to verify the basic shape of the rocket.

The mockup will then be fitted with prototypes of the RD-0120 engine to validate geometry of internal spaces, and test for vibrations during a brief test firing.

Though there is still much work to be done with the rocket - a projected FASTA Moon launch vehicle - these developments nevertheless represent a major breakthrough in the design process.

FASTA administration denies gossip

In an interview today, FASTA Director of Operations Damian Kaklamanis denied rumors that astronauts Alan Shroompard and Svetlana Savitskaya had a violent conflict.

"I can assure the public that there definitely is no conflict between these two astronauts. I am absolutely certain of that."