Secure command centre beneath the Regent's Palace
"Excellency, we have the latest damage reports," the aide said, and passed a document across the table to the Regent.
"How bad is it?" the Regent asked.
"One hundred and fifty missiles launched, we have shot down at least twenty, possibly more, but the reports are still sketchy."
"Sketchy... and the damage?"
"Contained, for now, but most major cities were hit at least once."
"Lord... curfew?"
"In place, most people were indoors during the attack, and the local National Police with the Military Police have shut down all the city wards."
"Right you all know the drill," the Regent leaned back, "But just how bad is it?"
"Bad, but not the end of the world. The impacts were heavily dispersed, but we know exactly where and when each strike occurred. That in itself is a great advantage. Moreover we're already under martial law, and have our epidemiologists working full-time. That will greatly reduce the damage."
"The economy..." the Regent said.
"Is screwed," said John Hewith-White, the Minister of the Interior, "We have to shut down basically all economic activity."
"Oh Lord," the Regent said, burying his face in his hands.
"There's nothing for it, its that or risking that the disease spreads," General Jason Thornwall said, "But quite frankly that means Project Nanny Itch must go ahead."
"Must it?" the Regent asked, "They could retaliate."
"The additional damage would be minimal," General Jason Thornwall said, "At least in terms of control and decontamination."
"Minimal... how many dead so far?" the Regent asked.
"So far? Not so many, but, it all depends on how fast you want the areas decontaminated."
"As soon as possible."
"Tens of thousands, maybe in the low hundreds of thousands."
"Dead from the disease?"
"Dead from preventing it from spreading."
"Does that mean what I think it does?" the Regent asked, there was an uncomfortable, and confused silence. Then his memories flooded back, not his memories mind but that of the man whose body he held, memories of the Red Plague, of Tloggothl, of the things that were done in the 1980s to stop the disease. The things still done regularly in South Velaria. So he bowed his head, and added, "Better they don't suffer I suppose."
"Indeed Excellency, indeed."
Epidemic Prevention Research Laboratory
[OOC: Note I don't specify where the two scientists come from.]
The laboratory was filled with little beetle like scientists in white coats, scurrying to and fro among the vast array of test tubes, and strange machinery that went
beep. It was very clean, very solid in feel, like any good medical facility. Of course the name of the laboratory, or laboratories since this was just one of many complexes, could at times be somewhat misleading.
As Lady Margaret entered an elderly male of Japanistani descent appeared, and bowed to her, "Lady Margaret, we are honoured to have you here in our humble lab!"
"Colonel Ishii, I see you are still in good health, and how is Colonel Wakamatsu?" Lady Margaret said, bowing back.
"Still in good health, but working on the Cherry Blossoms," Colonel Ishii said, "The Cherry Petals are ready to fall!"
"I know, they are ready to deploy, you certainly have done good work here!" Lady Margaret said, "It's safe to say that your former countries loss is our gain."
"Aaaah, not so, please, much too graceful," Colonel Ishii said, then a smile briefly crossed his lips, "Though perhaps you have a greater understanding for the value of my work. Alas old Unit 100 was cancelled long, long time ago."
"Now about your question as to why the supply of test subject has dried up," Lady Margaret said, she looked uneasy, "I fear it might never start up again."
"Ah! So it is true, he really is abolishing slavery?"
"Yes."
"No substitutes?"
"No, we thought of using prisoners of war, or difficult indentures but... the risks are too high, we have what we need."
"So the experiments come to an end," Colonel Ishii looked down, "Very sad, we learned so much."
"Are there any subjects still alive?"
"Yes, some, why?"
"I have ordered Colonel Rash id to remove all evidence of the, ah, special studies," Lady Margaret said, "You know best how to help him."
"I see," Colonel Ishii said, "All the evidence?"
"All of it, and it has to be hidden well, burn it with fire."
"Of course, of course, and the researchers?"
"Pardoned by the Regent, and don't worry, everyone needs your skills."
Colonel Ishii bowed, "I thank you, it will be done as you dictate."
Montalba Special Decontamination Zone
The medical tent was filled with special cases, and each of their beds were surrounded by canopies that prevented their particular bug from escaping. Outside the decontamination brigades were working hard to clear up the blocks hit by the bioweapons, the noise pierced the tent, and the shadows they cast played against the fabric walls.
Dr Thaddeus Jones felt sick to his stomach as he walked down the aisle, draped in protective clothes, and decontaminated for the fifth time that day. A nurse stood at one of the beds, waving him over.
"Doctor, we wanted your opinion on this case," she said, and pointed to the patient.
"Let's see," Dr Jones said as he examined the patients folder, "Haemorrhagic fever, a Shroombola variety, haven't seen those in years. I think this variety was discovered in the eighties you know. Last patient I had who died of Shroombola was in, oh, mid nineties."
"My niece died of it in the late nineties," the nurse said.
"Quite, well, this one has a 40% chance of survival, and no essential skills," Dr Jones said, he grabbed a syringe and filled it with morphine. "Standard procedure in such cases," he said, before injecting the contents of the syringe into the IV drip, "And, ah, have the body disposed of and the bed cleared ASAP."
"Yes doctor," the nurse said, struggling not to roll her eyes, doctors! They thought they had to explain everything, but if they had to run a medical facility it'd be chaos.
"Why didn't you call me earlier?"
"He was a citizen."
Dr Jones frowned, visible behind his transparent face mask, "That is not generally a priority in a plague situation."
"Yes doctor, but it's been nearly a decade since the last such situation on the mainland," the nurse said.
"Still, the next time standard procedures must be followed quickly, otherwise your medical facilities risk being swamped."
Irrumator Beach, Sirnoth
From the air the landscape of Irrumator Beach was terrifying, a vast tent city with SAM missiles, fuel tanks, and air planes ready to launch. One particularly well defended section held what appeared to be large hovercraft, and other landing vessels. The encoded radio traffic grew denser and denser by the day and by the hour, a constant line of chatter between the base at Irrumator, and the AEW airplanes above.
Most analysts would come to a single conclusion: An amphibious attack was being prepared, with alarming speed and efficiency, suggesting a long term plan behind it.
M/S Mucho Dinero
The
Mucho Dinero looked like your common tramp freighter, beaten and weather-worn, it could fit in just about anywhere. Nor was there anything peculiar about her current position, though it was slightly off the common shipping lanes; Hundreds of miles from any shore, and from any prying eyes.
It flew a flag, a Frequesnian one, it was of course a false flag but you'd be hard pressed to figure that out; That was one good thing about being a pariah nation; the Astarian sailors had lots of experience in pretending to be an innocent ship from some other nation. For it was indeed an Astarian ship, as proven when a shrill flute sounded, and they lowered the Frequesnian flag that had so far flown over the
Mucho Dinero. Instead the Astarian naval jack went up the flagpole, and Astarian sailors ran out onto the deck, taking up position next to the main cargo hatches.
Aboard the bridge the executive officer turned to the Captain, "Sir! Laser readings and the UAV both confirm wind direction and speed."
"Good, prepare to release Cherry Blossoms," the Captain said.
Down on the main deck the cargo hatches opened, and strange contraptions rose up from the cargohold. In thirty minutes the deck had changed character completely, and strange silvery shapes launched up into the air.
"When will they reach Shepistan?" the Captain asked. The executive officer handed him a piece of paper with a number on it, the Captain read, and nodded, "Good, alert our allies."
Later once the launch was complete the ship lowered its naval jack, and raised the Frequesnian flag once more. Perfectly in accord with the laws of war, which permit false flag provided that the real flag is flown when an attack is launched. Seeing the ship so transformed an onlooker might wonder if he had
hallucinated, especially given the very strange nature of the launches.
No doubt this onlooker would have been even more confused if he knew that the
Mucho Dinero was but one of many ships that had launched their strange cargoes today.
Newton Airforce Base, Astaria
One by one the strategic bombers rose into the air, great silver birds rapidly picking up speed. Moments later came the first supersonic boom. The Astarian deterrent force was flying in the direction of Shepistan, and it was going in fast.
High seas between Shepistan and Sirnoth
"This is Tail Chaser, we are go, I repeat we are go."
There were Sirnothi airplanes, there were Pezookians, Zorians, even a few Shroomian ones. In fact the whole of FUN seemed to be represented at some level or other, if not in the air then on the ground. Operation Great Poofter, the largest FUN joint exercise ever was in store. That at least was the theory.
Of course the Shepistanis seemed somewhat less than willing to believe that theory. Air units rose all across Shepistan, ready to intercept and attack the FUN forces the moment that they betrayed their intentions. To the rear, protected by swarms of fighters, were the Shepistani RB-58s, ready to leap forward to smash the base at Irrumator bay before it could be completed.
Instead of attacking though the FUN units split into two, one moving towards the north-west, the other towards the north-east, hugging close to the Shepistani borders without ever violating them.
Shepistani Radar Station
The young radar officer sat bolt upright, "Sir! Unidentified radar contacts!"
"Well of course, there's a whole swathe of them," the commander said with a growl.
"No Sir! Further up! Faint but present at above 100 000 feet."
"Above 100 000 feet? That's impossible! There's nothing any of the enemy forces have that can move that high and fast."
"It's not moving fast at all Sir, in fact it's kind of slow."
High up in the air
[OOC: This section is so awesome it has its own
Theme Song!]
There were hundreds of them, glistening silvery in the daylight, as the rays of the sun made the gas inside of them expand, and lifted them up higher and higher above the ground. Even the lowest of them hung at 100 000 feet, though some were over 110 000 feet in the air. Balloons, high altitude balloon released into the predictable winds of the upper atmosphere. They had drifted a little of course, but then again they were aiming at a country.
From each of the balloons hung a set of clusters, filled with bomblets, and other odd loads. Each cluster was wrapped in a tinfoil like material, and the interior kept at body temperature warmth. After all some of the contents therein liked the head.
Once the first balloons reached Shepistan their tiny electronic brains registered that they were over land. They studied the land, trying to match patterns to identify whether they were over a city, or the countryside. Either they found a good target, or they released when they were well over Shepistan.
Of course the Shepistanis didn't take this sitting down, wheezing high-altitude SAMs crawled up to altitude, including a few items strictly designed for ABM tasks. Some of them came close enough to detonate, but at those altitudes the explosive shock wave was attenuated. Worse yet there wasn't so much to hit, an air plane or a missile is actually quite a fragile thing, not so these balloons. On two occasions large SAM struck a balloon, tearing huge holes in it, and all it did was make the balloon slowly lose altitude. Slowly because up here the pressure inside the balloon at outside was nearly equalised, so poking holes in one did just that, it poked a hole, but there was no sudden out rushing of gas. That said scores of balloons were shot down, but hundreds made it through.
These balloons were the Cherry Blossoms mentioned earlier, and now they released their Cherry Petals. Hundreds of bomblets, roughly the same of a thermos bottle, but with odd spigots on the ends. There were also squarish bundles, and a few other strange devices. All of which were painted pinkish-white.
If you stood on the ground and watched it'd look almost as if a shower of cherry blossoms were falling upon Shepistan. As the bomblets reached the optimal altitude their tiny altimeters activated, and they began to spray their lethal cargo; among others cholera, bubonic plague, smallpox, and various strains of influenza, including one affectionately known as Captain Trips. It was a grab bag of old favourites, picked for their contagious nature, in the hopes that the Shepistani population would be particularly receptive to such.
Of course the ingenuity of the engineers that made them was not satisfied with this. Indeed if restrained the population could probably be made to avoid obvious sites of infestation. That was what the square bundles were for, at the right altitude they too dissolved and turned into a shower of Shepistani currency, forgered but forgered well. It literally rained money, and each bill came free with some suitable infection.
Down below Shepistani farmers looked up with confusion, but at the sight of the money they ran over, and snatched up such bills as came near them. Grabbing them, stuffing them into their pockets, and generally not paying too much attention to the odd drop of rain that occasionally struck their faces.
Actions: Whole of Shepistan gets drenched in biological weapons, which are released in aerosol form at the right altitude. There's also the fake money which encourages the locals to pick it up, thus further infecting themselves.
Ain't I a stinker?
))
