Post by bluesnailok on May 14, 2023 19:37:37 GMT
General
The destruction of Aerial Unit 4 extended across much of the city. From Envoy Avenue to across the river, the rumble of a distant explosion spread across the city like thunder. But for nearly an hour, there was little certainty for those not there of what had happened.
As the afternoon drew in, clarity came forth. While social media accounts were first to report what they had seen, news would later confirm the news. Along a major Kaban roadway, a Tesfeld police helicopter had been shot from the sky by an unknown weapon and assailant; crashing into the street below. The victim count was still unknown, and few authorities were available to rapidly get the situation concluded. But the implications were severe.
This was becoming more than just a disorganised state of disorder, the masses were becoming armed with weapons to throw the city into a complete revolution. The attack, which had occurred on Natse-Lane had been paired by a series of gun shootings on riot police units close to the Union University who had been attempting a major counter-effort towards the uncontrolled areas. Such riot police groups were now in full withdrawal, with some reportedly having been completely encircled by the mobs who had now become incensed in the idea of a full revolution.
Other groups from the revolutions were, however, giving a beacon of hope for resolution. The most notable were the Berlun religious opposition to the Tesfeld. They were set to host a rally at
The Terefra Rallying Grounds the very next day, which many were banking on restoring another reprieve for Kaban. Their leader, after all, was respected by all, and his commitment to emphasising peaceful noncompliance would certainly postpone the outbreak of further violence. But until now, everyone was expected to hold out for the night.
Yet more police cars came speeding through the city streets on a regular schedule. But now they were going in a different direction.
They were all driving away from the riot zones.
Ingen
Kato gritted her teeth as the Respite crashed into the gap between two police cruisers, half crumpling the nose of one and the trunk of the other, spinning them out of the way with a grinding squeal of metal that would no doubt leave its mark on the front of the LAV.
"Spooky fucking...." Marine Ulbatan trailed off from the passenger seat, staring out of the window at the grey Telirans who watched them silently as they passed.
From the back seat, Yoshida spluttered, recovering himself after having been thrown sideways by the impact.
"What are you doing? Do you have any idea how much...the paperwork!" he complained, before Ulbatan turned to look back at him.
"Sir, with all due respect it was our only choice. So sorry."
Behind them, in the bed of the truck, Takenaka waved languidly at the Telirans as the convoy accelerated away...
SOME TIME LATER
The LAV and two buses rolled onto Envoy Avenue without fanfare, their drivers weary and their passengers nerve-wracked. The drive had been largely uneventful, but the fear that they would be intercepted had haunted them the whole way, and the huge explosion that, unknown to them, was Aerial Unit 4 going down, had added urgency to their journey.
The convoy pulled up outside the Union embassy and the Jade marines poured out first, their attitudes relaxed as the street appeared to be largely free of protestors, or indeed of anyone at all. Yoshida climbed out, stretching and gasping in pain, his body not used to the rigours of a cramped combat vehicle.
"Inside, go go!" called out Takenaka, waving the students and staff up the front steps of the Union embassy as his marines scanned the street for trouble...
Upper Natse-Lane (Union)
Ophenia was starting to panic.
As the bus went up in flames behind them the proper attacks came as they made their way into the main road. The noise was unbearable, the constant roaring of people and slurs came in so hard and fast she could barely hear what they were saying. But she did make out some of what was being said ‘Go home colonials!’ ‘Your poison!’ ‘Down with the Union!’ ‘Capitol should have won!’ and countless others. She was starting to feel hollow when the first of the proper attacks came in, a bottle smashed in the middle of the group eliciting shouts from the students before Mr. Tranch, a teacher of galactic history was rushed by two individuals who smacked him over the head with a baseball bat. They were fought off by two angry students who helped the man recover and helped drag him although his head was bleeding badly.
Another was hit by more confident rioters when the helicopter came over. The sound was unmissable, and the entire group seemed to be elated. As it hovered and drove away the crowd’s people waved and cheered, they had been saved and now they could get out of here.
That was until the blast, and the helicopter fell turning into a flailing fireball as it exploded on the ground. Horror gripped everyone even the rioters who fled, pushing through and knocking down students as the faculty tried to keep control. Ophenia was shouting for them to stay together when the approach of the Teliran and his cried shouts caught her attention. Not entirely trusting but with the situation escalated beyond safety Ophenia nodded and pointed to the shop calling for everyone to move in there.
Chrysoar Castle (Capitol)
Zeister stood for a moment, looking around at his men in formation and the buildings containing the families. They simply didn’t have enough vehicles to take everyone with them and Zeister knew if he took soldiers away from the defence here, he would be condemning all those remaining to a horrible death.
“I will come with you Kmara. As you say there is no need to die here, and with any luck I can co-ordinate the help we have called in better wherever we will be going whenever it manages to turn up. You have to promise me in return however that we will do everything we can to support the people here” He was stern in his reply. And immediately gestured for Trefeld his second in command to come over.
“Yes sir? Are we getting help?” The man asked tired. Zeister nodded.
“I am placing you in charge of the situation here, I am going with the superintendent to help direct law enforcement given their sub commanders are doing such a piss poor job of it and they need discipline. From there I can also direct proper relief for all our people here. You are to hold against this scum at all costs until I get back, you will hear from me soon. Tell the men I have gone to get help; I should not be long” Zeisters command made Trefeld hesitate for a brief moment before he saluted.
“As you say sir. Thank you for the honour of command we will not disappoint you. I wish you the best speed possible” Trefeld then turned and marched off. Zeister smiled to Kmara.
“Let’s get going”
Envoy Avenue (Union)
“Lets hope they can break through and that our Jade friends boisterous choice of vehicle is beneficial. They must be trying to tie us up in bureaucracy…” Khamir sighed before looking at Alak. As much as he hated to admit it his Carnaithian compatriot was right, it was time to enact critical measures. The university had been burnt to the ground and he had people stuck all over facing injury or worse because of the riots. He had a hand over his face as he sat back into his chair with a short silence.
“Your right. I will get our people on doing the same. I suggest we declare a local emergency, get everyone we can into this area with whatever supplies they have and we hunker down. Your idea of setting up our own information broadcast is an excellent one I would have never thought of, perhaps we can use one of the embassies communications hubs as a platform for our own bastardised radio station. When I get time ill call the Union government and give them full intel of whats gone on here, especially the actions of Monatt, in detail “The anger in his voice was clearly palpable.
There was a knock on the door to the room and the sound of engines outside.
“Come in!” Khamir said aloud, his aid, a young woman peered into the room.
“Sir the security forces are back along with the Jade and University members” Khamir seemed to visibly relax and smiled to Alak.
“Finally some good news, send Arthur and the head of the Jade security in if you will”
The gates to the envoy compound were barricaded and watched over by Union security teams mixed with Carnaithian security as the two forces covered each others enclosed residence. The looks of happiness upon seeing the group arrive though was clear as they set about clearing the entrance before opening the small embassy grounds gates and letting the vehicles and people in.
“Welcome back, and thank you for saving our people, and good to see you and your lot are ok Arthur” Sergeant Calico stepped forward thanking Yoshida, Takenaka and Padov. He was in proper Union combat power armour, but it was one of only three suits they had available, with one having been in the middle of maintenance and hardly used, truth be told they didn’t have the capacity to properly repair or run them.
“Ambassadors Khamir and Alak are upstairs they might want to be appraised of what happened and what you encountered” Arthur looked dark and sighed.
“Not all of us made it Sergeant, but thank you I will be up shortly.”
Royal Federation
Analise sat and listened to the Bishop as he explained, all the while she began initiating communications with Corps, as the situation was about to change drastically.
"Madame Corps, Listening to the Bishop has brought some interesting choices to light. As per protocol i'm referring back to you for what to do in this matter." Analise asked respectfully
"Hmmm, The Imperium is in no shape to do anything to us on the galactic stage, but forcing our way into their legation would start a micro war. I would prefer to keep as many people both ours and theres alive and keep the fighting across the river. Send some of the embassy troops out to scout around the legation. Give them official vehicles and have it be under a banner of increased security for the Federation assistance crews. We'll keep an eye on them and if they do anything funny we'll mobilise to bring them into line." Corps replied.
"Understood, I'll dispatch the orders now."
"Give the bishop a warm response and let him know about our plan. Helping these people and removing oppression will do us some good on the galactic stage."_
Analise turned her attention back to the Bishop, mere nano seconds had passed since he finished his sentence.
"I share your desire for peace Bishop, rest assured i have consorted with my superior and we will start keeping an eye on the Imperium. If they are looking to be doing anything suspect to incite more violence or cruelty then we will move to bring them into line." Analise gave a reassuring look to the Berlun.
High Imperium
Gaivran grunted and tapped his fingers on the desk in thought. The fact that Tetlisun himself apparently had a stake in this was...interesting. Although in reflection, it shouldn't have been surprising. The Stadtholder was charged with representing the ASN to the greater galaxy, therefore it only stood to reason that he'd take an interest when a city started tearing itself apart and threatening foreign embassies.
Still. Something wasn't right. Not with the ASN's interest here, and not with the situation at large. Honestly, the more time he spent here, the more he was coming to understand the common merchant's sentiment of "When dealing with Telirans, check the contract twice. Then check again." Tetlisun and the people who worked for him might be arrogant asses, but all antagonizing them was going to get him was a demotion, if he was lucky. Kateht Eroth was one of the more stable dreft true, but there were still horror stories about what she did when her temper was up. Sighing, he tapped his intercom.
"Tell the maniple to get prepped and ready to go. In the meantime, see if you can't slip some plainclothes into the mob to figure out possible hot spots."
Envoy Avenue
The cheers from the Carnaithian personnel at the boundaries of the compound were cut short by the reverberating blast in the distance - a dull thud accented by the whine of anything it resonated with. Several troopers immediately turned their sights down the street in either direction, checking for local disturbances as more of the local Carnaithian population rushed across the street. The security team didn't seem too concerned with the immediate vicinity, seeing as they had cleared the alley between the buildings and barricaded it to deter further hooliganism until such a point where more determined pushes against the embassies were made.
The Passengers that had been calmed since the push through the checkpoint had again shrieked and ducked in the vehicle, Lyk being more concerned with the sound itself. The executive limo pulled into the Union compound this time, instead of trying to usher the students they were carrying through a crowd of rowdy expats cluttering the vertically-aligned Imperial embassy. Lyk calmly climbed out of the cab, opening the front door of the passenger area and letting their passengers rush to the safety of the embassy. As an aide came out to collect her people, she stopped to talk to the Jade officer before they all began making their way back into the building. Padov hummed to himself in thought, the disruptive rookie from the rear of the vehicle coming up behind him.
"What was that?"
"Not a weapon, I'll tell you that. It sounded like a crash."
The rookie stood blank-eyed at the lieutenant for a moment in response to the comment, looking down at the latter's shoulder patches; former Atmospheric Arms.
"I guess you're familiar?" He asked, his superior nodding slowly as he moved to follow the Aide and Takenaka despite not being explicitly invited.
Takenaka nodded to Sergeant Calico, glad to see the Union military present even if it was just the one sergeant for now. He watched as the civilians streamed inside the building, including Yoshida who headed upstairs to meet Khamir and Alak, and the wizened Shefu, who was already peering around looking for a kitchen to start cooking something up.
Takenaka turned to stare back east, the way they had come, noting the column of smoke in the distance where, unknown to him, the helicopter had crashed down.
"There is one bus stayed behind. My marines and I are ready to go back out." he said matter-of-factly, his troops leaning on their spears behind him, their LAV unscathed except for scratched bodywork at the front where they had shunted the police cruisers out of the way.
INSIDE
Yoshida paused outside the office to compose himself, smoothing out his shirt and pants. In deference to practicality he had been wearing his day-to-day outfit, a loose cotton haori or a short-sleeved kimono in businesslike blue, over a white linen shirt with denim jeans and black shoes. Whilst marking him as an Ingenious, it was much more practical than the formal attire he was expected to wear on high profile state business.
Regretting his casual appearance, he entered the room and offered a shallow bow.
“And I’m well aware that not much can be done right now, but we need assistance here. Please just do whatever you can. I understand, goodbye”
The group were led up into the embassy itself by Calico as the voice of Khamir in his office became clear. Ambassador Alak was also sat at Khamirs desk who looked delighted as the entourage were brought into his office.
“Come in, thank creation you all made it. Arthur good to see you” He stood up and walked over, giving the Teliran staff member a hug before shaking Yoshidas hand and Padovs as thanks.
“I cant thank you enough for your help in getting them back home and safe. Did everything go ok?” It only took a brief moment for the details to be given to Khamir and Alak about the roadblocks and the loss of Bus 3. Khamir had sat back down behind his desk, an aide grabbing chairs from another room for Yoshida and Padov.
“Things are even worse than we thought then. We must do everything we can to find those on Bus three, and it appears the police are trying to actively hamstring us. If we cant get around easy then we are surely doomed to have bad encounters further when trying to bring more people in. I just got off the call with the Union diplomatic quarter of the government, they are going to try pressure the situation from outside but other than that I don’t think help is coming anytime soon. Is there any way we could try get our people back?” He asked. Arthur was quiet, still taking in the fact they had made it to relative safety.
"I am glad to be here, thank you for extending us your hospitality." replied Yoshida, and then listened as Khamir spoke, settling his weary bones down into a chair that was infinitely more comfortable than the Respite LAV had been.
"My marines are willing to head back into the city to attempt a rescue of those aboard the third bus." he said matter-of-factly, glancing out of a window to where the five soldiers were lounging by their vehicles, chattering and grabbing a bite to eat.
"The local authorities offered no reaction to our breakthrough at the checkpoint," Lyk responded as he entered the doorway. "I think they're trying to give the image of control, though it could be inferred as bait for bad press on our part. My staff aren't equipped with any reconnaissance equipment beyond the security systems in the embassy, but we can ask the private citizens if any of them brought recreational drones. That could give the second expedition a means to avoid more interruptions."
Alak leaned forward and stroked the fur on his cheek with his thumb, retrieving the phone on his opposite pocket to call Mere. "On it," He responded to the security lead, who turned to Yoshida.
"It was a whole bus. I'm willing to bring the limo with again, if you'll have us along."
“Absolutely anytime my boy” Khamir responded to Yoshida, placing a hand on his shoulder as he finally sat down in something comfy “I wont ask you to go back out again right away considering the complex situation with the police that you got into. You and your men need some rest” He sighed. Turning to Lyk as he gave more information on the situation.
“If they gave no reaction it could be or the other yes.” The small Holographic TV he had on his desk which had been on for the entire time muted now showed a helicopter crash on the frontline of the news. Khamir went to reply but quickly turned the volume up.
”With such a sudden and violent move from the rioters we simply do not know what to expect next…” The reporter went on, the footage from a building a block away showing the helicopter getting hit and falling out of the sky. But it was that underneath on the overpass that caught Khamirs attention, Arthur practically leapt at the hologram.
“That’s them! Good lord they are in the thick of it we have to help them somehow!” The footage cut of some of them running out of sight and Khamir sighed. Turning to Lyk again.
“Do whatever you can using local drones and any other intelligence gathering.” The response from Alak immediately jumping on the phone made him nod in approval.
“Have the limo and the vehicles ready on standby. As much as it pains me to say but if we sent out our security vehicles again, we wont be able to immediately pin them down. They can’t sit tight out there, and with supposed weapons being used… We could lose you all. Stay ready, sit tight. The moment we have them we will let you know.” He looked back to the holo screen.
“Creation help them for now”
Yoshida nodded, opening his holo and sending a quick message to Takenaka. Outside, the sergeant flicked his thumb and index into an L-shape, the small light display winking to life to display the message. He nodded to his troops and all but one of them began settling in for a power nap, two on the benches in the bed of the Respite, one on the back row in the cab and Takenaka settling down behind a shrub outside the embassy.
The remaining marine climbed into the cab, popping the roof hatch open and settling down to survey the street, removing her mempo faceplate and taking sips from a canteen.
Inside, Yoshida also examined Khamir's holoscreen. The situation was not promising.
"What is the end game here, Khamir?" he asked, genuinely curious. His instinct would be to just up and leave the planet entirely the moment a ship could be secured, but Ingen was nowhere near as invested in Natar as the Union was. The planet seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket, but he would not be surprised if the Union wanted to stay and try to salvage the situation. Perhaps they did not even have a choice; he had no idea how much they had invested in the university here.
Khamir sighed as he moved to look back out of the window, tearing his gaze from the unfolding chaos on the holo screen. He placed his hands on the window ledge and looked out across the city, at the glowing fires in the distance and narrowed his gaze.
"I honestly dont know my friend. This chaos is only just starting, I have informed the Union proper but help is a long way away. The most we can do is sit tight, and the end game is hopefully this blows over. But how much damage is done by the end of this..." He paused "Only time can tell"
General Overview
The days quickly began to unravel following the enactment of the Comprehensive Action Plan by the Kaban Authorities. The greater city of Kaban was effectively abandoned to the anarchy that was unfolding throughout its streets. Police helicopters became a non-existent sight with the revelation of the arms possessed by at least a portion of the revolutionaries; police cars were hardly more common with most of the remnants of Kaban authority now having concentrated itself at the city centre on the South Bank. Over the week, the news from beyond made it rapidly apparent that what was occurring in Kaban had triggered something greater through the Sasonish countryside. Old separatist guerrilla groups had reemerged from the exile, hiding or dissolution and returned to action; with them had risen much of the tribal countryside of Sasona.
What news was published from beyond the city limits of Kaban made three things very apparent: First, things were apparently immeasurably better off for non-revolutionaries inside Kaban than they were outside of the city. Two, the Tesfeld Military was effectively paralysed by this new patchwork of uprisings throughout the country. Three, almost every other city in the country was similarly in a state of rebellion.
Stories began to spread of the situation amid the infamous fog of the marshy tribalistic rural landscape of Sasona. Of Sasonish Tykemen wiping out convoys, both military and civilian, trying to supply or reinforce cities throughout the land, of evacuating foreigners being dragged off into the mists of the marshes without a trace. Terrifying images of Tykemen in their roughspun apparel began to circulate through the media as President Monatt’s government desperately worked to downplay the anarchy of the situation and urged the public to remain in their homes.
It was by day four of the riots that, like a physical manifestation of the collapse of order in the city, the fog rolled in. Coming from the hinterlands, ‘fogstorms’ as they were dubbed were nothing new to Kaban, but the onset of one couldn’t come at a less convenient time. For delegates on both sides of the banks of the Kaban river they now became isolated visually as well as physically; unable to see the situation on the other side. With the collapse of reliable media channels and contradictory accounts over social media platforms, the fog represented the now total collapse of trustworthy information on the situation or the ability to even see the situation at hand beyond what one could confirm ten meters ahead of themselves.
The Kaban authorities continued to assure the ambassadors of the legations that everything was in order, even as the anarchy flooded through the city almost as quickly as the fog had. The only thing that had stifled its rapid approach towards the missions at ‘Envoy Avenue’ had been the rise of the Tesfeld Battalions. These loyalist paramilitary groups were the small Tesfeld minority living in the city, along with foreigners from offworld and those at risk of being accused of collaboration.
While these battalions stalled the expansion of the anarchy, their use of force to repulse the crowds had pacened a new development in the riots. It seemed like the frequency of muffled, distant gunshots was rising by the night. Decades-old separatist guerrilla groups had already penetrated the city and had begun both distributing arms among the most impassioned of the rioting population and begun forming basic units from the masses. No longer were the crowds returning to their homes and back to the riots at their discretion. The “Kabanite Liberation Front for the Independence of Sasona” as the local organisers had officially dubbed it, more easily referred to as the KLF, had solidified this popular uprising to stay until forcefully dismantled.
This new force became indicated by a simple head accessory to which the new nickname for the rioters had emerged: “The Brown Bandanas”. Easy to distribute but easily identifiable, the rebelling masses had never acquired a rudimentary sense of uniformity, of group identity, and common responsibility as a collective. They were organising.
Every night the diplomats were serenaded by the city with a chorus of bumbling gunfire, the rumbles of explosions and the wail of broken police sirens. Where once one standing at the embassies could survey the glistening lights of the urban sprawl as they shimmered upon the reflective river surface, now the fog left one with the silhouettes of shadowy buildings as they projected through the fog at day and in complete darkness at night.
Few buildings had their lights on any more, not that many buildings could be seen any way. The only exceptions were the highrises from the corporate block of Kaban. These looming towers to the East of Envoy Avenue continued to be lit up well into the week despite their encirclement to the anarchy. These towering citadels, looming high over the mist with the lights from their windows, alongside their electronic advertisement and brand screens, continued to shine over the city like beacons of some continued semblance of normalcy and a sign that the embassies weren’t alone out there amid this chaos.
Apparently, the companies owning the skyscrapers were on no better terms with Kaban general public than the foreign delegations. Having mobilised their own private security and pooled their strength, the corporate block seemingly weren’t just able to defend their own property, but claimed to have seized surrounding city streets and buildings under their security following their abandonment by local authorities. Similarly, the neighbouring Orillian embassy, while openly supportive of the rebels, reported itself as having secured nearby properties for their protection. Things were falling apart with the police gone, and now the independent groups and factions were scrambling to consolidate their surroundings.
Bishop Clement had been far from silent during this time. The elderly Berlun that had faced off the hot-headed Capitolite’s at Chrysaor Castle and met with the Royal Federationists at their legations had throughout the escalation held multiple rallies. First, at the Terefa Rallying Grounds, then at Kaleki park, the Bishop had emphasised the importance of conscience during this turbulent period of change. To hundreds of thousands of screaming supporters, the Bishop had become a newfound and moderating figure that supplanted their late leader, Roma Efiki.
Clement’s message, his own alien background and his respected community position had helped immeasurably to control the xenophobic aspects of the revolution, but this did not mean this was any less of a revolution; one which still rejected the privilege and powers possessed by the colonial embassies within their city. Clement was once more holding another rally, this time at Kilefa Park to rally the masses to the cause of independence and the fight against Kalethian hegemony; it was so far reportedly going as well as ever and the usual rhetoric was being used of focusing on the Kalethian hegemony; not on the ‘Alien Strawman’.
Unknown (Ophenia’s Troupe)
Deep into the depths of the city’s buildings, Ophenia and her group had been holed up in an unsuspecting apartment block 5 stories above ground level. There they had been holed up for the past few days. The shopkeeper who had let them into his shop had brought them here. An older gentleman by the name of Oyle, the Teliran had insisted on keeping the troupe hidden at his home as Tranch and other members of the party recovered from their injuries.
Providing them with food and drink, Oyle and his wife, Salinea, had kept the group in good spirits and company but insisted on keeping their communications on the down-low. Apart from an exception to call in to the Union embassy during their journey to his apartment to let them know Ophenia and her group were okay, Oyle was quite insistent on radio silence. ‘The national cause’, he claimed, ‘runs deeper than the common man’ and warned that he would not be surprised if any Teliran workers for any of the colonial embassies were sympathetic to the revolutionary cause.
Despite his friendly and evident protectiveness of the group from the occasional passing mob of Brown Bandanas outside, the old man gave off a secretive impression, like there was more to him than what meets the eye. Always insisting that the group stay in the living room and kitchen; never going into his study or other such rooms. Salinea seemed equally cautious with the group, like she was always trying to keep up a better impression than she ought. Sitting down with Ophenia at the dinner table of the crowded kitchen and passing a steam hot cup of tea, she looked to the red dusk sun that radiated through the thick mist outside the window and down the street; listening to a muffled explosion from somewhere far away.
“...This city is falling apart, my dear…” The old lady lamented, “...It’s not safe out there. Not yet.” She muttered as Oyle came shuffling in from outside, struggling with two carrier bags full of provisions. The old Teliran grunted as he bent his joints to place the bags down,
“...What’s new?” He mumbled through his stifled breath.
Envoy Avenue (Union, Jade, Carnaith)
Much had changed since the University Convoy had united with the embassies along the Tanais River. With the all out route of the police, the embassies had effectively been left to free reign over the surrounding streets and neighbourhoods if they felt like expanding their hold. The increasingly loud clamour of gunshots, jeering and explosions, however, made it abundantly clever that the watch was ticking for such endeavours. The last protest out on the road before the buildings was days ago. Gone were jeering demonstrators, the occasional automobile or businessman passing by. Now the street outside was completely deserted except for the occasional rustling newspaper shuffling along in the breeze. It was very apparent that this silence and lack of activity outside was no longer due to the rioters being so far away, but rather the opposite. The only activity now was the sight of a rare gunman or two rushing down across the ends of the roads to back up some nearby Tesfeld paramilitary or Sasonish separatist group in their skirmishing.
The messages from Mr. Kalmine during these days had become recognizably fewer. For a while, Kalmine’s messages seemed to get more paranoid and exaggerated. It was evident from pictures and reports that the masses near his home were getting fewer and the threat had since passed. It got so bad that Kalmine at one point even reported a silhouette carrying a bomb in the night, fearing for his life, before he realised that it was the figure of an old lady carrying some groceries. Subsequent reports and claims to the embassies from then on became less and less seriously taken as it was becoming clearer that the rioters had passed. Still, he sent through yet another message to the Union delegation asking for a convoy to evacuate him from his apartment due to security concerns.
What had before been an onslaught of queries, concerns and requests to the embassy staff from expatriates and their ilk days before was now mostly radio-silence for the administrations. Most foreign citizens from the Union, Carnaith, Jade and any of their associated client states were now residing within the embassy premises. Now the concern has turned to logistics. These embassies were exactly that, embassies, not stockpiles. They had not exactly been built for self-sufficiency, let alone with the additional weight of hundreds of new occupants seeking accommodation and supplies for who-knew how long. If operations for making room to give adequate shelter for these occupants, finding supplies to sustain being surrounded, or preparations to defend the embassies or their surrounding areas were to be initiated, now would be the time.
Royal Federation & High Imperium Legations
The legation quarters along the South Bank were as lucky as ever in their situation compared to their peers. Located close to the government centre, President Monatt’s holdout, the legations sat in the zone where the Kaban authorities had concentrated what reliable forces they had left. But even here the situation was destabilizing.
News from across the fog-covered river indicated that the North bank rebels had now turned from frenzied rabble into organised bands of militias, but on the distant eastern areas of the South Bank things were similarly falling apart. Where once there had been localized, dispersed protests, now there were snowballing mobs of jeering crowds reminiscent of scenes from the North Bank days before. Tear gas occasionally came hailing down through the confused hordes in the thick Sasonish mist which quickly dispersed the rioters. But the situation would only resume within that same hour once more, for now however, the struggles were still far from the legations.
Inside the High Imperium legation, signs of hostility were beginning to pop up. Mostly limited in scale for the time being, the crowds of demonstrators began almost spontaneously. Bricks were thrown at shop windows as the situation rapidly began escalating within the legation in the span of a single hour. It made it harder to notice these groups forming due to the pea-soup fog that formed a visual wall through the area. These rioters were in High Imperium judicial territory, and it was up to them on how to respond to this instability.
The Royal Federation had meanwhile been more fortunate. An influential man like Bishop Clement had left his meeting with the Federation on good terms and had made it quite clear that the Royal Federation was to some degree willing to work with the moderates of the cause, and this had detracted the focus of the anti-colonial violence away from them and towards groups like the High Imperium.
It also helped that the police had redirected much of their strength on the outskirts around the legations to protect the streets surrounding the Royal Federation’s territories and less so those surrounding the High Imperium’s concession. This came to few people’s surprise however, considering the High Imperium’s decision to insult President Monatt and to refuse to cooperate with Adjutant Salierto in his ambitions to curtail both the power of the rioters and the Royal Federation in Kaban.
It was, however, within the Royal Federation Legation that a warehouse was uncovered to be hosting several crates of rifles during a routine inspection. While the Teliran warehouse owner, a Mr. Karata, insisted on being unaware of how these crates arrived in his storage building or what their purpose was, it was quickly becoming apparent that while the Federation legation may not be turning into a hotspot for violence during this riot, it was starting to be used as a stable location to provide logistical supplies for these rebels.
If these crates were found from a mere routine inspection, the question was now to be asked: What other sinister underlying forces skulked the underside of the legation community? It was rapidly becoming a very real possibility that, with their effective independence and extraterritoriality, the Federation legation was being used as an untouchable base of operations for the backbone to the riots.
Talesa Square Capitol Building (Zeister)
When Zeister had agreed to join Superintendent Kmara in withdrawing to the government headquarters at Talesa Square, he had been enticed on the assumption and premise of assisting in a swift crackdown to the rebellion by a cold and determined government. But even the car ride there indicated this was doomed never to be the case when Zeister got into the car to be met with the sight of a frightened young woman sitting in the seat beside Kmara. While Kmara insisted that he was merely keeping her under his protection, it was very clearly a more sinister circumstance than a kind hearted guardianship.
The moment Zeister reached the Capitol building, the Capitolite had been shoved into an unkempt second-floor office with his only daily interaction being a receptionist bringing in a paper cup of water and a clingfilmed sandwich. There Zeister was tasked for three days with typing endless responses to media outlets on how the government was effectively planning decisive and effective crackdowns on the riots. Any efforts to leave Talesa Square on his daily walk were halted by armed police and the Kommandant was expected to sleep on the couch in his workspace, which he was locked in overnight with a guard posted by the door. Zeister was left without fresh clothes, nor the option of washing. While Kmara endlessly insisted that this pointless routine was a necessity to build up international support prior to their joint effort to destroy the riot, it was becoming abundantly clear that Zeister was under an unofficial house arrest and in isolation from his community.
It was only on day three that something different occurred. During the late hours of dusk, just before his daily shift by the Kaban government was coming about, the muffled shouting of two men rapidly approached Zeister’s door. Very soon the sound of the office door unlocking came through and the figure of Kmara strutted in behind the stumbling rush of none other than President Monatt. His greased, unwashed hair, crows feat, bagged eyes and grim look was a firm contrast to his stubborn speeches days prior.
“President Monatt, this is most-” Kmara tried to insist before being interrupted.
“-There he is.” The middle-aged politician grunted with an almost crazed grin, “...I have a job for you!”
Chrysaor Castle (Capitol)
In the absence of Zeister amid his evacuation with Kmara, the Capitolite community that had become dubbed ‘Chrysaor Castle’ had since become entirely surrounded. Where there were once disorganised crowds that seemed almost enjoyable to shoot at and watch scatter in panic, there were now empty streets. But the occasional silhouette through the mist, standing atop rooftops overlooked the fortified community or from beside nearby walls, kept watch and confirmed that the rebels had far from moved on.
Through most of the day, there had been the usual quiet around Chrysaor. A consistent comfort for Trefeld, but the silence would break this day. Just as the sun began to descend, in the red glare of dawn, the first shots rang out. From through the mist several gunmen rushed to positions behind cars and from inside alleyways down the roads of the South-West roads through Chrysaor. Some were armed with cheap assault rifles, others with hunting rifles and shotguns, but more quickly began to follow from through the thickness of the fog.
Very soon a hail of bullets was falling upon the Capitolite barricades and the guards standing upon it. Within several minutes, about five dozen Telirans had taken positions across the road and were spraying rounds of ammunition against the fortified walls as two Telirans began rushing towards the walls of the castle; carrying some kind of box to place infront of the face of the wall.
ENVOY AVENUE
Things were uncomfortable, to say the least. There had only been a handful of other subjects of the Jade Empire present on Natar, a couple of businessfolk, a freighter hand who had been hospitalised in a bar fight and recuperating at a local clinic, and a quality control inspector who had used the trip as an excuse to bring his wife on what he had incorrectly told her would be a nice, relaxing break.
With all the other people present, though, things were crowded to say the least. Not only that, but they only had so much food, water and other supplies, and many people were sleeping on couches, blankets on the floor and more.
Rumour had it that the ACN were on their way to restore order, but with no guarantees as to how long that could take Sergeant Takenaka had been pressuring Yoshida to take more decisive action.
Finally he relented. The Sergeant, rather than seem pleased, simply issued a barely-acceptable grunt of acknowledgement, annoyed it had taken this long, then turned on his heel and left.
Ordering one marine to stay behind and watch the compound with the others, he led three of his soldiers east, towards the towering lights of the CBZ. Although they would get nowhere near them, he figured it best to expand that way rather than away west.
His initial objective was to search some of the further buildings for stocks of anything useful - once they had marked a location, they'd get Kato to bring up the Respite and load it up, roll back to the embassy block and get some civilians to haul it into the basement under the watchful eye of Union and other guards.
Once that was done, he planned to recce what looked like a restaurant next door to the Union embassy. If possible, he wanted to take it over and use it as living space for the Ingenious, freeing up room in the main building and giving his people breathing space. But first things first.
The fog rolled in as they strolled east down Envoy Avenue, keeping an eye out for loot and threats...
Khamir strode down the hallway, nodding to numerous people as he went. Unioners, Carnaithians and a few Ingenious all sat or laid in rooms which had been for embassy operations, now they were bedrooms for too many. Still the ambassador acted like a reassuring sight, informing people that indeed help was coming, that direct calls had been made to the Union and Carnaith and working with Alak to generally keep things calm.
They had fortified the embassy grounds as much as possible, piling up rubble, reinforcing doors, windows and any other points with furniture and objects which could in a moments notice be moved in to help hold the line. It was a sorry situation, and Khamir was distraught that it had come to this. At least the individuals of Bus 3 were safe for now, that had been a huge weight of Khamirs shoulders. But still, things were tense, they didn’t have enough supplies for everyone and the constant threat of attack was wearing people out. The guards were on constant shifts, and everyone was getting exhausted.
Khamir found Calico at one of the windows staring out onto the fog shrouded main road in front of the embassy.
“Ambassador” His tone was tired.
“Sergeant. Any updates?” The man took a moment and shrugged.
“Jade boys have gone out to look for some food, I wished them luck and told them I would try do the same soon. We do need supplies; we will have to send out some boys to look soon” Khamir nodded coming to stand by the window.
“Indeed, I won’t argue with that logic. We can defend all day but it wont matter if we starve. Send a few out, I think the local large shopping area is a good start if it isn’t already looted to high heaven” Calico smiled.
“I was thinking you would fight me on the idea of sending troops away” Khamir waved his hand.
“3 days ago, maybe, not now though. Given the coffee ran out I would do anything to secure some supplies, you have full reign over the mission I leave it in your hands” With the order given Calcio wasted no time in rounding up three guards and tasking them with supply gathering. Strapping every bag they could to them the team quietly left the embassy and made their way towards the shopping stretch.
The meager matter that Alak had managed to overdose on this tea was monument to the situation the foreign delegations on the north bank were dealing with. He shakily paced up and down the office hallway, a lone guard leaning on the balcony towards the front, and a white noise of calm, if worried chatter emanated from below. He liked to liken it to a food chain; apex predators in nature culminated the most toxic substances in their bodies. The issue with the analogy is that he didn't fit quite neatly into this; he wasn't cut out for this situation like Khamir seemed to be. Or even Lizaki, for what it was worth. It was like transplanting a predator from not just the wrong environment but the wrong planet.
The echoing, firm steps of Lizaki's loafers made their way up the staircase behind Vitiri. He realized he had been tracing the spiderweb of cracks in his office window from outside the room as he mulled on the situation and nursed a jug of water in an attempt to detoxify. He unsteadily lifted it again, taking a sip from the half-empty vessel and turned to face the stairs as the building director's disappointed gaze met his own.
"I told you you were relying too much on that stuff," the arrival called out, half-startling the guard, who calmly collected himself and his equipment and meandered out of view towards the skybridge to the Union complex. Alak massaged his ear - a startlingly unfamiliar structure to diplomatic visitor's children who expected Carnaithians to just be big dogs and asked to pet them accordingly.
"No response?" his lieutenant asked as he walked into comfortable conversation distance. The diplomat had dispatched an aide to distribute the remaining tea packets to stressed parents who obviously needed it more than he did.
"N-no, Mere, you know I'm not much at apologies."
"Not to your peers," the other responded, a scowl forming on his face.
The comment was like a dagger to the diplomat, who had been delegating far too much for his status and stepping beside himself somewhat. He took another sip from the jug in his hands, splashing a bit between the irksome comment, the stress, and the oversaturated compounds in his blood.
"You seem to do it well enough with foreign dignitaries who can't care to concern themselves with their own people much less little old us in diplomat's row," Lizaki pressed fluently. The latter had been busy enough that his chin fur had grown out to the beginnings of a sort of goatee, but he kept himself groomed and presentable for the families and citizens below. Vitiri, on the other hand, was drinking from a supply jug and had doffed his dignitary decorum and accessories alike. Alak really had an appreciation for Lizaki's ability to demolish coping thought processes to execute what needed to be done among the building staff - with how long the two had been working together, it worked just as well against the man's superior.
"You're right." Alak responded, surprisingly clearly. Mere's scowl transformed to a smirk.
"Clean yourself up, I'll get you some coffee from next door. You need to be down there with your charges. Especially with so many going out to retrieve supplies from their shops," Lizaki chided as he started for the skybridge, even as the diplomat coughed and sputtered.
"Wha- What? What do you mean?" he half-shouted, taking care not to be audible downstairs as he briefly pursued.
"Well,"
Royal Federation Legation Quarter
The news about the warehouse and the findings of the inspection had shook Analise from the moment she heard it, She never thought something like this could happen and it only meant more stress on the already heavily burdened Embassy Staff. She made a call to Corps using what channels were still available although now they would need to begin encrypting their connection.
"Madame Corps, about that news of the find in the warehouse-" Analise was cut off
"Its a good opportunity, my dear. The Imperium have a bad reputation as far as it goes for native treatment. The local government and the moderates are both protecting the Legation and we can't appease both sides forever. Someone is going to go looking for blood and I'd much rather it be Imperium blood then our own." Corps said happily.
"I'm not sure what you are implying Madame" Analise responded curiously
"You are going to launch a private investigation using yourself and a contractor who got caught up in the city on another assignment. I'll send you detailed instructions, but play this right and the Imperium will be the one under the pump and things will hopefully go our way." Corp replied
"Madame, what about the moderates? Bishop Clement is actively helping us, his continued support would also go a long way in keeping everyone safe and supporting him will help our power base in this region if his revolution is successful." Analise added
"Very well, send the bishop an offer of formal Federation security to help protect him and then send some of the local police forces undercover to act as extra security anyways. We don't want an ill fate to befall him." Corp remarked.
"Yes, madame. It'll be done." Analise said before Corp terminated the connection.
A moment later the instructions came through and Analise analysed them in detail. Her first step was acquiring the help of a local contractor that the Federation had planetside to investigate private matters for the embassy staff, a physical person to do the leg work of the AIs. This was a man by the name of Samuel Corbin, a private investigator employed by the Federation for finding out more information then what could be collected from the net and a much more deniable asset then trying to hack into personal social media accounts or security cameras. Samuel was stuck in the city was currently spending his time drinking in one of the bars inside the Legation Quarter. Unfortunately for him he had found himself in some trouble with some local protesters, throwing some drunken words at them. A pair of Federations walked up to the ordeal and politely asked them to move and told them, they would handle him back at the Embassy.
"I didn't need your help, i had them right where i wanted them." Samuel shouted at the soldiers.
"If them kicking the shit out you was all part of your plan, I'll get them back here and let this play out." One of the soldiers replied
"N-no, its fine. They've lost interest anyways." Samuel said sitting up on the ground. The soldier offered him a hand and pulled him up to his feet.
"The Ambassador wants to meet with you."
"What about?"
"Above my pay grade, come on we'll give you a lift."
A short time later Samuel found himself in the Ambassadors office. He took a moment to walk around the large room and examine the decorations. He wasn't a fool and new that one of these fancy decorations was a cover for the bar. AIs might not have a need to drink but organic guests did. He noticed one of the paintings depicting a scene from the revolution had subtle scratch marks on it. He lifted it up and it was a small door that retracted into the wall and a small bar protruded.
"Help yourself Mr Corbin." Analise said manifesting her avatar leaning on the wall next to the bar.
Samuel jumped back in surprise.
"Jesus lady, you scared the fu-" He stopped himself from continuing his sentence and cleared his throat and straightened his tie.
"Forgive me ambassador, i was merely admiring the painting and noticed something off-"
"Your reputation precedes you Mr Corbin, please don't try to lie to me. I however need you to do some lying" Analise disappeared and reappeared at her desk.
"Have a seat we have a lot to discuss."
Analise went over the plan with Samuel detailing what he had to do and who he had to investigate. His whole investigation was pretty much done and he was just an actor in it all. The briefing was all done verbally and he would have to remember everything as he couldn't take notes or have nay physical evidence about the conversation that just happened. After it was all over he went to the warehouse where the crate of guns was found. Legation police were still checking the area and were making ready to check the warehouse, they took over the job to spare the local police of having to send any manpower towards the investigation, they were however still completely transparent with them. Samuel's first target was the warehouse owner Mr. Karata. He went to his office and knocked on the door.
"Mr Karata, I'm Samuel Corbin a detective with the Legation Police Force. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Do you mind if i come in?" He shouted politely through the door.
Ophenias Troupe
The group had been fed and sheltered, and despite the situation Ophenia was thankful for that. It had been a long 5 days, several of them sitting up awake at night looking out the window at the orange glow above the city, only for that to be taken away from them when the fog rolled in. They had been given whatever comfortable blankets and materials they could and rested on whatever floor space was available. It wasn’t great, but it was better than being lynched.
Still while they had managed to contact the embassy and confirm they were still alive Ophenia and one of the students were uncomfortable with Oyle, having been whispering to each other at night. The student thought the man was a co-ordinator of the rioters or militia, only that he was moderate when it came to aliens. Whatever the cause it had them both on edge a lot of the time, nobody else from the group had talked about any grievances, but then it was hard to when confined to two rooms, they couldn’t get away from their hosts.
She was just thinking about how they could even attempt to get the embassy when she Salinea passed her some tea, Ophenia had not slept well on the floor and smiled.
“Thank you. And I know, maybe soon hm?” She and others turned to Oyle with the provisions.
“Here let me help” One of the students went to aid him as did a couple faculty.
“Nothing new it seems, another explosion, another day”
Talesa Square Capitol building
Zeister wrapped his knuckles on his desk, he was sat half upright bored out of his mind and unable to sleep. He had been betrayed by coming here and no doubt his own people were under attack by the Teliran scum. For the first day or two he had worked hard, doing whatever was given to him and not asking questions. Drilled into him from military school he had taken in the environment and made do, but nearly a week later and that was gone. He knew he was being kept here and used, and he knew the whole ploy had been nothing but a trick. His work ethic had slackened majorly, and he had stood behind the door demanding to see Kmara or at least be given access to wash facilities. He had spent yesterday trying to find a way out, but two small vents gave him little in the way of access.
The tune he knocked onto the desk had been the same tune that had heralded Herakles death, and he was only interrupted when the noises outside the door came. He bolted upright and stood up just as President Monatt and Kmara came in through the door. Zeisters face turned to a frown as Monatt addressed him with a job.
“You promised me a way to help, and I have been locked in this damn room for nearly a week! Do not lie to me again that this is another job where I can somehow help save the city. You haven’t given me an ability to wash or clean myself up and have treated me like a prisoner!” Zeister was clearly very angry.
Chrysaor Castle
The guards had been on station constantly throughout the days, catching what little sleep they could in between rotations as Telirans and threats scampered their way across rooftops and streets. Trefeld had done what he could to reinforce the community, even going so far as to give many of the families sharp cooking utensils to defend themselves at the last minute should all go south.
He had managed to hear that the help Zeister had ordered many days ago was coming, but it would still be at least a week, and no doubt would have to contend with the issues that were plaguing the city surroundings if rumour and news were anything to go by. Trefeld was young, he had never really got to take in Capitol properly before his parents had fled to Natar. He had been brought up in a military quarter along with many Capitol expats and had been taught by Zeister closely eventually rising through the ranks. He hadn’t even heard from Zeister so far, it made him worried, his mentor was many things but he never abandoned his people. Trefeld was broken out of his daily thinking by the burst of gunfire. Making his way to the line it was clear.
They were under attack.
“Man your posts! Everyone to the lines!” He shouted, bullets came in striking the now quite large barricades which they had made out of scrap and detritus. Plinks of bullets and the occasional cry of a Teliran as the Capitol soldiers fired back turned the otherwise quiet of the day into a sudden storm. Trefeld shouted out though as the Telirans carrying a box tried to rush forward. He called for fire on them as the Themis which had been parked on the street turned its HMG towards them, firing off a long burst to gun them down.
The Shopping Stretch
Aphkaral's deep whistling sounded almost instead like humming, permeating the Carnaithian general goods store. Luckily, the rash of xenophobia had left stock vandalized instead of looted, and the damage wasn't so widespread as to make this a worthless trip - the shop hadn't been razed by virtue of being the bottom floor of an affordable housing block, though most of the inhabitants who would care about the Tunora coming back to his store were out protesting or skirmishing. He was accompanied by a few Carnaithians and a human citizen of the empire, and the five of them were busy stuffing duffel bags with freeze-dried cattle-spider legs, water jugs, and EZ-boil grains alike. "Don't grab snacks," He had told his partners. "We need to feed people. Needs first."
"Aph, I'm not trying to be a flea, but your whistling carries a ways," The human of the group said, crouched and braced against the counter - facing the only non-emergency door, semi-automatic sporting rifle in hand.
The hulking form of the Tunora sighed and looked up and down the fairly short aisle before looking back to the bag at his feet. "You are right, I am sorry. We're almost done with this trip," Aphkaral responded, zipping the bag with his comically-oversized hands and effortlessly lifting two hundred pounds of provisions on his own, slinging the bags under his arm and brandishing an admittedly-illegal stacked munitions PDW that the consulate had chastised him for bringing but never acted on. The three Carnaithians had been done for a while, each specializing in a particular set of goods when they came, and now the three reminisced at the ads that lined the top of the walls, even as they were spray-painted or torn from their mounts.
"Come, we should leave before anyone decides to investigate," The shopkeep echoed through the room, silent but for the party's steps in the common space. The others, but one, quieted down and converged on the door, slowly peeking out.
Aphtaral took the lead, exiting the building and turning left - northeast - to get back to the consulate. It wasn't far, and he heard the footfalls of his compatriots and the creaking of rifle slings follow behind. Visibility was awful, even with urban infrastructure, damaged as it was. Silhouettes were a semi-common sight in the lights around Envoy Avenue, but most were solo and didn't bother the group. Now, though, a trio stood adamant at the corner at the far edge of what Aphtaral could see. They weren't large, and they were silent, but they did hold something.
"Stop!" One shouted... unconfident, feminine or young. A muzzle raised to Aphtaral's right, and he shook his head - it lowered an inch in response. They kept walking.
"Stop!" It came again, the lead form assuming a rear-leaning, hip-firing position emulating an action hero. Aphtaral raised his chin and kept marching. They would miss or they would run.
"I said stop!" they shakily yelled again in a sasonish accent, backing up nervously. Before Aphtaral could get close enough to make out a face, a woman's desparate cries could be heard in the distance, speaking native tongue that grabbed the attention of the small silhouettes, who tore their attention from the Imperials and muttered before turning to run, the one at the front tripping and dropping his weapon as he sprinted into the fog towards the yelling that repeated and was continued with terrified sobs.
"What'd you know?" One of the Carnaithians cautiously asked from behind as the group approached the dropped item.
"What I teach," The Tunora responded, showing the palm of his left hand to those behind, revealing a military brand from his homeworld. At their feet lay a toy gun - ironically, mimicking the model of rifle that appeared so frequently on 2AW newsreels that featured COE forces.
Now, however, the noise of an engine and points of light approached from the embassies to the left... very quickly, the very clear visage of Jade marines freed themselves from the fog, the silhouette of that strongly-welcomed Respite accompanying.
"We're in deep shit now, though, aren't we?"
High Imperium Legation Quarter
A soft knock at the door had Gaivran glancing up, followed by an irritated "What?" An aide opened the door and cleared her throat.
"Heiros Meltar here to see you, sir."
The ambassador sighed. "And he couldn't make an appointment why?"
"That's the thing. He did make an appointment. Three days ago."
Gaivran blinked at the aide before pulling up his calendar. Damned if it wasn't there, staring him in the face, blinking a soft green. "Send him in then, I suppose."
The Heiros stepped inside and sketched a curt bow, while Gaivran found himself involuntarily grinding his teeth at the implied disrespect. "How can I assist you?"
Meltar hesitated a moment before taking a breath. "Sir, it's come to my attention that we're experiencing increased issues with...demonstrators. I also understand that we are currently lacking in governmental support due to your dismissal of a request from the ASN?"
That impudent little - Grimacing, he reined himself in. "I fail to see how that is a concern."
The other man's look was blatantly condescending. "I was entrusted with the security of this legation. I can't maintain that security if your every action sabotages my options."
Gaivran snarled at him. "You dare! This is my embassy, and you dare come in here and tell me how to manage a crisis!"
A roll of the eyes. "That's exactly what I'm doing. And it won't be your embassy for very much longer after Lady Eroth offers the Stadtholder your head in apology. Much less the damage done to the cause of your fellows back home. In fact, to prevent further such damage, and to uphold my task as delivered by High Command, this embassy and the surronding quarter are now under martial law."
The diplomat simply stared at the Heiros as the door opened and other soldiers entered the room. "You-you can't do this."
"I think you'll find that I can. Gaivran Arlos, you are hereby suspended from your position as emissary to the Kalethian Republic. You will be detained in the lower levels until the current crisis is over, and then presuming Mr. Tetlisun does not wish to accept your head, you will be sent back to Zaoth to stand trial for gross incompetence."
As the soldiers dragged the still uncomprehending Gaivran away, Meltar went over to the desk and entered in an override code he'd been given prior to this posting. Then he turned off the stasis cells in the base of the embassy tower. He had the military support, and now it was time to restore order. After issuing various commands, he pulled up another window and sent a short message describing the 'coup' and his actions. There was no response and he closed the connection. Now to keep things running until help arrived.
---
The effects of the change in leadership were immediate. With martial law in effect, stores were closed to prevent looting and damage, and citizens were forced off the streets, with some held in makeshift detainment areas for a cooling off period, but most sent back to their homes. At one such rally, as people gathered by the hundreds around a man with a loudspeaker railing about the crimes of the Imperium, a sudden hush began to fall.
And then the crowd parted, people scurrying back as tall figures in segmented armor and crested helms pushed their way through to the speaker. One of them spoke up, broadcasting his voice for all to hear. "These conditions are unsafe. By the decree of Heiros Meltar Envirous, please disperse and return to your homes."
General
Through Kaban’s chaos, the international community on Natar had not been silent. For days now, the ASN had been engaged in heated discussions over numerous ongoing geopolitical situations across the planet, the situation in Sasona was among them. It was still unclear what the stance of the Executive Assembly was on the Kaban situation, or what it was going to do.
This lack of clarity appeared to be finally coming to a close when the embassy’s finally were updated from the outside. Stadtholder Tetlisun of the ASN, in a typical fashion to this style, had abruptly announced an emergency conference with delegates for each power involved in Kaban within 15 minutes of receiving the update. There would be no provision or exception for ambassadors or delegates who were busy with other affairs, it was quite simply a case of being there, or being square.
15 minutes on the dot, the meeting call was established. Contrasting to the chaotically arranged setup for President Monatt over a week ago, the representatives were to be met by the sight of the Stadtholder’s office. An ornate room lined with ancient artwork and busts of past Administrators. At the well-polished table that the call focused on, was the all-too-familiar sight of Stadtholder Mose Tetlisun, the head of the ASN.
The Teliran leader seemed noticeably emotionless, the bags under his eyes either implying tiredness or advancing age, or both. With his forming a steepled gesture as he coldly greeted the callers as the conference commenced,
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is good to see you all here. I have opted to initiate this emergency meeting to discuss the ongoing situation in Kaban; to inform you of the ASN’s current position and our plans going forward.” He paused,
“Firstly, know that you are not alone, in more ways than one. The entirety of the ASN stands with you right now, and we fully plan on arranging a rescue at the best opportunity. But also know you are not alone as the only place in Sasona currently in chaos, indeed, the entire country has become a high-threat area and we may be witnessing a new nation gaining independence if we do not tread carefully.”
“I am currently battling in the assembly to prepare an expedition to Sasona to begin breaking through to Kaban to evacuate you and your denizens.” The Stadtholder assured, “But this will take time.”
Ophenia’s Troupe
As Oyle unloaded his bags, quietly thanking the students for their aid, the Teliran began to mutter.
“Them’s bandana folks are starting to organise out on those streets… Won’t be long before they begin coordinatin’ apartment searches… Lookin’ for collaborators and that sort…”
The old man didn’t seem to think too much about it, nor seem concerned, but Salinea was much more so. She turned her gaze to Ophenia,
“I’ve been hearing stories from out there… People are reporting their neighbours… There’s horrible stuff I don’t like to think about, dear… We need to start planning what to do with your folks… If they pick up the scent to hear, well…” She smiled a little in a half-hearted chuckle, “I don’t think we’ll last long.”
Royal Federation Legation
Amid the escalating situation across Kaban, the offer by the Federation to provide help to Clement had been accepted, though conditionally. The bishop made it abundantly clear that, on no uncertain terms, any protection the Federation wished to offer had to be disguised and concealed. A clear colonial presence at an event trying to reconcile the movement with the colonials, he argued, would quickly discredit anything he had to say to the radicals.
The situation, meanwhile, out in the Legation streets were rather unchanged: Business as usual, if the occasional split lip or bruised face could be now considered the usual. Across these once affluent and busy streets, clutter was beginning to accumulate with the loss of consistent waste removal. On the city corners one might see the odd Teliran or two squatting and recovering from light injuries or trying to calm down after attending some of the more violent scenes several streets away.
It was at the warehouse that the Federation was now investigating that the most headway was being made in terms of action by the legation. This building preceded the Royal Federation legation, before the Telirans had entered space even. Filled with haulage crates and racks filled with random supplies, the place wasn’t large enough to get lost in, but certainly large enough to fill a few trucks up with goods. What one could call an office for this place was little more than an overlooking cabin to the warehouse that required a ladder to reach. Aside from what had already been reported, the warehouse was found to be in possession of numerous chemical agents, tear gas, narcotics and an unusually large stockpile of Prussian Blue paint.
Standing upon the metal overlook, Samuel’s request to enter was first met with silence, and then by a rather amused chuckle.
“No!” Came the reply, followed by yet more humoured laughing, “Of course, of course, come in detective...”
Entering the small office space, Samuel was met with the sight of a middle-aged Teliran. Mr. Karata, who seemed far from anxious, was casually perched up his chair behind a small industrial desk with his boots resting upon its surface. Smoking some kind of cigarette, the Teliran smiled and placed a bottle of Adalouse 3578 onto the table.
“I was waiting for you to turn up, detective… By all means ask anything you wish… Within reason of course.” The Teliran beamed. Karata donned a distinctly Human suit like something straight out of the 50’s as he drew out two glasses onto the table,
“...Can I offer you a drink?”
High Imperium Legation
The abrupt declaration of martial law within the Imperial Quarter did not have an initially pacifying effect among the locals. The moment that word had gotten out that the Imperial military had deposed any vision of civilian government prompted a frenzied mix of both anger and a perceived lapse of control over the legation. The crowds that swelled within the legation numbered the dozens to hundreds. Each was, however, slowly but surely dismantled by the legation authorities, with detentions and questioning always following. So far, no blood had been spilt.
It was the final gathering, with a Teliran having formed a particularly large crowd with a loudspeaker, that the situation became tense. Organising the masses with his speaker, the Sasonish citizen quickly began focusing the crowd's attention on the encroaching armoured units. As the crowds started massing against the units in a bid to force them back, a single shot rang out towards one of the units. Instantly the masses of Telirans scattered in panic as the assailant quickly joined them in rushing with the crowd down the street until the area was left empty once more.
While the Imperium’s legation slowly solidified its total military control over the streets, the demonstrations and protests merely began to form and swell at the edges of the legation’s jurisdiction. It was from these crowds that a single police car came forth, battered and crying out with its broken siren as it parked outside the legation embassy. From the car rose a Tesfeld official who quickly rushed into the legation building calling out,
“What in high heavens is going on down here? The capitol’s goin’ crazy as is, what’s this word of a military deposition?!” The pudgy, rapidly-approaching Teliran grunted to the receptionist.
Chrysaor Castle
The two Telirans lugging forward the crate quickly went down in clouds of red mist as they were peppered by small arms and the HMG alike. A few moments later, the box that fell to the floor exploded in a plume of hellfire; sending rubble and shrapnel bursting in all directions. The firing quickly petered out after the explosion as the assailants disappeared once more into the wall of fog.
Left behind were a handful of corpses and a couple writhing in pain from their wounds. The attack had been short, poorly-planned and half-hearted for the most part, but the sudden outbreak of it and its coordinated cessation indicated that things were becoming less confused beyond the fortifications.
It was only an hour or two later that from the mist came a booming voice. The echoing, electronic voice indicated a megaphone somewhere from beyond.
“Attention, Capitol. Lay down your guns and end your occupation of our homes. Leave now in good faith and we will allow you to leave to the North Bank Embassies! If you do not comply with our wishes then Kaban will be forced to launch an attack to take our neighborhoods by force! You have six hours to decide!” Once more the Capitolites were left to the silence of the fog.
The Shopping Stretch
The troupe that had encountered the Carnaithan expedition quickly rushed past the oncoming Respite and its Jade occupants. The Jade party so far had already received some trouble in securing their new headquarters. What looked like a restaurant was more of a greasy spoon on the inside, with the building still being occupied by a rather combative old gentleman who insisted that the Jade had come to take over Kaban, starting with his diner.
Now on their exploration they rolled up to the Carnaithan party, who were on the Shopping Stretch with similar intentions. Before either could properly interact, they were promptly interrupted by a clicking sound from above them. Atop from of the grand shopping buildings that skirted the riverside stood a teenage Teliran, clad in a scarf that hid half his face. The Teliran continued to take several images of the units on his phone before quickly disappearing behind the roofline and leaving the group in peace.
Besides the Carnaithan shop that had just been expedited, the shopping stretch was home to several major retail chains that had become something of a minor tourist attraction for the city. Their famous lights were now offline, leaving the stretch as a dull and lifeless facade, and their broken windows revealed many to have already been looted. One building on the row, however, juxtaposed the atrified state of its counterparts.
A large, proud building of venerable architecture stood higher than the rest on the stretch. Unlike the others, its name was still lit up in neon lettering, declaring its name: “Boxer’s”. With its lights still on, its windows untouched and with its goods still clearly on display, the shop seemed almost unnaturally untouched and open for business amid the detritus and chaos of the city’s chaos.
Through its windows, there were no visible occupants of the store’s main room, though the muffled beat of store music at least seemed to indicate that it wasn’t abandoned. From what one would tell, Boxer’s sold a smorgasbord of varying supplies, from food to gadgets and furniture: A veritable treasure trove for a looter. Yet it was all untouched, pristine even. Something was very strange about this place.
Envoy Avenue
Only one affair beyond the conference invitation by Stadtholder Tetlisun demanded the attention of those in charge at Envoy Avenue. It was not good news. Out of the blue, without prior escalation or warning, the staff at the Union Embassy received a single update from Kalmine. It was a message without words, just a single image.
The blurred, amateurish picture was distorted by motion and by the reflection of the window it was taken through. But from beyond the frame one could see the street beyond, and the hundreds of masked figures that were waiting outside. What one might observe to be a noose on a lamppost was onto in the picture. The crowd of armed watchers lined the street all the way back until they formed silhouettes into the fog.
Even more disturbingly, something else seemed to be present through that mist. It was unclear exactly what the creature was. The silhouette indicated that it was clearly something living, but as tall as the lampposts and with tentacle-like limbs that curled and stretched out to the buildings across the roads, and whatever it was it seemed to be at the very least passive to these Sasonish thugs that were standing quietly outside Kalmine’s house.
5 minutes after Kalmine’s last report, he was followed up by a second, simply stating: “help”
Talesa Square Capitol Building
“-I don’t bloody care what Kmara’s been having you do here.” Monatt promptly spat back, “Or what you bloody think of me. But you’re going to be torn to shreds just like the bloody rest of us if you don’t follow my fucking instructions.” The President, roughly straightened his own tie before throwing some papers at Zeister.
“These people at the High Imperium legation need assistance. Those savages outside hate their colonial guts and are beginning to mass around that legation quarter on OUR side of the border. I need you to get down there and get those incompetent fucks we call a police force to break up that gathering.” The President scowled, “...Unless you want to stay here?”
Kmara stayed quiet throughout the President’s heated mission, simply glaring at Zeister with now cold and concerned eyes.
SHOPPING STRETCH
The Marines whipped their guns up as they heard the footsteps running past them, but relaxed when it became clear it was just a mother and her kids. The baleful white-armoured dragon helmets watched them go, no doubt distressing the youngsters further, before turning towards the Carnaithians.
Sergeant Takenaka raised a hand in greeting, then turned to watch as the local took pictures of them from a nearby roof. One of his marines muttered that he could drop the guy, and Takenaka rebuked him instantly.
"I don't know Marine, do you think killing an unarmed civilian is a good idea?"
The soldier dropped his head as Takenaka watched the alien turn and leave.
"Think we're going to have company sooner rather than later," he announced to Aphkaral and the Carnaithians as they arrived. "The diner next to the embassy was a bust, whole place is dirty as hell and the kitchen is so greasy the place'd burn down the moment someone sneezed too loudly. This place, though,"
He pointed towards the bright storefront of Boxer's.
"I don't like that at all. Starbuck, get a drone up."
The only Frame in their squad stepped forwards, with nothing to indicate to the Carnaithians that she was an artificial intelligence as her face and skin were covered by the G-BUS armour. She dug a small drone from her pack and loosed it, sending the tiny device humming at head-height into the building to scan the interior for signs of life or traps, whether hi-tech or primitive.
Meanwhile the other two soldiers in his squad moved to the far side of the street, climbing the fire escape onto a low roof that gave them a little bit better of a vantage point, though not much thanks to the fog. They activated their thermals, watching in opposite directions through the chill and gloomy fog...
Royal Federation
Samuel took a seat and glanced at the bottle and glanced at the Teliran. His suit choice was odd yet still rather stylish, his taste in drinks was also quite good. Possibly a result of his position as the warehouse manager, goods could easily 'go missing' or be 'unaccounted for' under his watch. This was perfect.
"Yes, thank you." Samuel replied as he began lighting a cigarette as well.
"Obviously you don't mind if i smoke either." He said taking a draw and blowing out a cloud of smoke.
"For starters, I'd the shipping manifest for that day." He took a sip of the wine, it was sweet and went down smoothly, as expected.
"And, who found the weapons? Was it you or perhaps an employee?" He said putting his drink down awaiting his answer.
Envoy Avenue
Khamir was sat at his table. Leant to one side and propping his head up on his right hand. The sudden call had been annoying, but right now it was the only major event that had happened and the prospect of telling the people sheltering below that Tetlisun had contacted them all and was doing something about it would be invaluable at least for a few days. Still Khamir had no particularly high hopes, they were on their own for now. Tetlisun was a world away, and still it amused him if it had not been for Khamirs assistance on behalf of the Union the man would not even be in power right now.
He smirked at the comment that the whole ASN was behind them, right now it felt like they were all outside trying to bring this city down but the comment that this was not an isolated incident caused the ambassador to scowl and sit up straight. This was far more serious than they had thought.
“Stadtholder, Ambassador Khamir here, while sending an expedition by road would likely take significant time is there any possibility of a small aerial group? Enough to evacuate the civilians and critically endangered while the rest of us wait for the proper rescue?” His tone was legitimate, Khamir was hoping for some proper responses.
Ophenias Troupe
The somewhat joking statement regarding the hunting down of collaborators did not sit well with the university group. Many studied history and knew all too well that what old Oyle was saying was absolutely true, it was only a matter of time.
“What are our options?” One asked.
“We cant hide in here there are too many of us, besides there are loads of us someone could easily report this place”
“We could move on?” Another added.
“And get lynched?” Ophenia raised her hands to quiet a rise in noise.
“Everyone calm down we have a while before it gets to that point. We need to work out a plan before then maybe work something out with the embassy. Oyle do you have any ideas?”
Chrysoar Castle
The explosion from the crate had practically mobilised every civilian within the Capitol zone. From gunfire to a full-on demolition attack several civilians who had been roped into assisting rushed up, bringing more bits of random detritus with which to try keep the barricade built up. The soldiers as well readied themselves for a full-on push and firefight, but with the killing of the assault team it seemed the enemy had lost their will to fight.
Jeers and cries came from the Capitol line, insulting and calling out the Teliran insurgents.
“I’ve killed Union babies that fight harder!”
“If your what they call freedom fighters Im glad for the Empire!”
“Your mum was Herakles sex slave!”
Trefeld had come forward to look over the barricades just as the loudspeaker began to blare. More jeers came in reply but Trefeld looked visibly worried. Soldiers turned to him and grinned, now so pumped up on stims and with little rest they were practically itching to fight, it reminded him of the reports from Addas of rabid units so drugged up they didn’t know what or why they were killing anymore. The young leader had a choice to make, he could try evacuating everyone but there were simply too many and he had nowhere to go. But to fight was to die.
He already knew the choice his soldiers would make.
Talesa Square Capitol Building
“You want me to save a nation that practically genocided natives publicly multiple times?” Zeister laughed.
“I know my nation has a particularly coloured history when it comes to dealings in the galaxy but your asking me to side with the devil, Capitol and the High Imperium together crushing the native resistance. Its practically an anti-colonials wet dream, I expect the Orillian contingents new team would be promptly masturbating while filming the whole ordeal.” He did however despite the comment want to desperately get out of this forsaken room.
“Give me 30 minutes and a place to clean myself up and give me full police uniform, they cant see me like this or you will have the mother of all flareups on your hands”
Envoy Avenue
With Alak's tremors limited to an extent that he could notice at this point, he was happy enough to attend the call brought on by what was revealed to be a very significant crisis. He leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed and a pendant on his sleeve representing a mourning attitude. He listened intently as Tetlisun said what he intended, and Khamir responded, pushing for more active measures. He glanced to the right of the video feed as a message was forwarded from the Union complex across the street; the photos from Kalmine popping into his priority feed in sequence. A thread was announced where joint security elements were discussing the matter, but all Vitiri could do was grimace. His position was far too distant to mount an expedition, he thought.
The Shopping Stretch
"If you'd like our assistance with reconnaissance, may I ask if you have room in your vehicle for these supplies?" Aphkaral asked Takenaka, raising the duffel bags he carried. "Securing what we have is more important than retrieving new, I would think."
Anton - the human - watched as the drone hummed its way through the light diffusing throughout the mists, slowly dancing its way into the entrance of Boxer's. "If it were trapped, wouldn't it be damaged by those?
High Imperium Legation
From the elevator bank, there was a slight cough, like someone clearing their throat. "Greetings, good sir. I am Heiros Envirous. Might I have the pleasure of your name and position?"
Meltar stepped forward, eyeing the representative they'd sent to him. Decidedly unimpressive at first glance. But far from him to make a snap judgement. Best to observe the niceties first.
---
Out on the streets, even as the militia troopers reacted with fear and anger at the growing crowds, the Legionnaires leading the peacekeeping efforts kept calm. They'd been given orders, and they intended to keep them.
Teleconference
“Ambassador Khamir.” Tetlisun first responded with a smile, of course after a brief transmission pause, the Stadtholder’s smile soon diminished, “...I wish our meeting were under better circumstances.” He left another moment of silence,
“There is no option I have not already considered, Ambassador. Kaban is too far and too dangerous for any extensive air operation- We have good reason to believe that the AA capabilities are far too dangerous to risk an aerial deployment without jeopardising both your lives and the crews. As for usage of exoatmospheric craft, that too is out of the question, Kaban lacks the infrastructure to accommodate such vessels, unless you wanted your people to trek miles out into the hinterlands, and that’s discarding the threats of attacks by the insurgents below.”
The Stadtholder shook his head, “I assure you every option has been calculated on maximal utility, efficiency and effectiveness. At present your people are far safer behind your embassy walls than in a helicopter flying over the Sasonish cityscape and bayous. If such a possibility becomes more feasible, I shall let you know.”
He then proceeded to turn his attention to the subsequent question from none other than the creaking tones of Minister Mylixen of the Orillian Embassy,
“Your Eminence… Why the troubles here in Kaban have been troubling- After all, stability is the aim of every country… These protesters have been far from unreasonable as certain other parties have implied… May I seek your assurance that the Associated States of Natar is prioritising a diplomatic resolution to this situation rather than throwing itself resolving this terrible crisis through bloodshed upon those simply expressing their free will…?” The Orillian inquired, the Minister’s boney hands clasped each other as he gave a demanding glare. The Stadtholder seemed relatively unmoved as he promptly replied,
“The ASN is, of course, not seeking to cause a massacre here, Minister. That is why the assembly has been debating, and continuing to debate a suitable approach to negotiations… But we cannot first begin to even initiate that without to greenlight from both the Kalethian and Tesfeld governments… Once that authority has been granted the assembly must further discuss who comprises the negotiating team, what we are prepared to offer and what we will not tolerate. This plan must then be validated by the Executive Assembly, the Kalethian Chamber and the Tesfeld Senate. The negotiations will then open, who knows how long the back-and-forth in discussions will transpire, until a settlement is found. That settlement will then need to be ratified by both the representatives for the dozen Sasonish Independence Movements and President Monatt.”
The Stadtholder finished by sighing, pinching the ridge of his nose with his eyes closed, he evidently was aware as anyone else of how ridiculously obvious how slow this intervention was going to be, especially with the Orillians hounding the prioritisation of a lengthy diplomatic effort.
“...But as your embassy has made our member-states abundantly conscious of over the past few days… A massacre of the Kaban population by Teliran foreign forces for a… ‘colonial cause’ is the last thing we want if we seek a long-term solution. So diplomacy must be prioritised.” His magma-red eyes gave his stressed appearance an almost blood-shot look.
“In the meantime, I have ensured the ASN is simultaneously juggling with the preparations for the approval of an intervention force to save time should talks-”
“Stadtholder Tetlisun-” Minister Mylixen interjected before being interrupted himself.
“-I am very conscious that such preparations may appear like jingoism to the Kaban and global public at large, Minister, but I am afraid my willingness to entertain a peaceful resolution is not infinite.” Tetlisun asserted, resting back in his chair.
To a veteran diplomat like Khamir, who had worked with Tetlisun since it’s ascension to power, the image that Tetlisun was no longer one of the energy he had once possessed, but of a weathered, middle-aged bureaucrat. Each wrinkle that formed the crow’s feet around his eyes seemed like battle scars from his struggles that had atrophied the informal autocrat over the years.
Royal Federation Legation
Karata was quick to grin and nod to his companion as he took another puff. Everything was clearly as he needed it as the Teliran dug into a nearby locker, from it he withdrew a stack of papers and invoices. Planting them squarely on the table, the warehouse owner gave a brief and careful nod before cooly ventilating smoke from his mouth.
“It was an inspection by the legation cops that uncovered the crates and, as I've told them, I had no idea they were being kept here. I was told they were crates of vacuum cleaners!” He chuckled, scratching his brow, “Though I admit I should’ve been more on-the-ball with checking my cargo.”
Samuel’s own smile dissipated into a more serious curiosity as he inspected the papers granted to him. The haulier reported to have brought the goods for said ‘Vacuum Cleaners’ was labelled down as a one Holitide & Sons trucking company, a local transporter located close to the Southbank Central Precinct. If these were the people supplying these arms, then they were the epitome of hiding in plain sight.
“I quite assure you detective, I was never given information on what was really inside of those boxes…” Mr. Karata assured with something of a smirk as he planted his hands together on the desk authoritatively, “...And as it seems the affairs of your fine officers are just about wrapping up here, may I assume that you will withdraw from my premises by dawn? A dozen different hauliers were booked to be bringing in and out in the past hour alone, so time is, as they say, money.”
“Of course, of course…” Samuel chuckled casually, taking the papers and gesturing, “I’m sure you don’t mind if I borrow these for the time being?”
Karata shook his head, “Not at all, detective. You have a good day now…” The Teliran muttered as the Federation investigator took his leave; melting into the city scenes thereafter on a new mission: Work out exactly what, in truth, was going on here.”
Ophenia’s Troupe
As Oyle sat himself down, the question of what to do was raised. For a moment Oyle didn’t seem to respond until the question was placed onto him. Holding his newspaper firmly in his hand, the old Teliran gave a somewhat concerned, conflicted look, which he then directed to Salinea. His wife seemed to glance in silence for a second before she quickly broke the quiet with a simple,
“Oyle, no.” The old lady gave a pained look as the old gentleman redirected his attention back to Ophenia. Rising from his chair with the screech of his seat, he hobbled off; disappearing into the backroom. Muffled talking seemed to follow for nearly a quarter-hour before the Teliran once more returned to the kitchen, his face only looking more serious. In this moment of tension, the old man simply stated,
“We will leave at dawn, someone is coming to help get you to the embassies. I trust them with my life.” Oyle assured, despite Salinea’s look of dismay.
_
High Imperium Legation
The Teliran that came to the desk was far from happy or warm as the Heiros was,
“I don’t give a damn what in the blazes you’re callin’ yourself! Are you outta yer damned maind?!” The representative grunted, his teeth gritting as he took a moment to dust off his blazer and compose himself.
“My name is Saunos Komargi, i’m part of the Kaban municipal board, and i’m here on behalf of the fuckin’ Kaban government, which you’ve just fucking snubbed my overthrowing their accepted governor and name yourself the replacement of without so much as a request for a fucking reception of credentials you psycho! What thah hella thinkin’ down here?!”
The Teliran’s face was practically ready to explode with fury, “We’re sendin’ a fucking guy down here to help take charge of the situation in cooperation with the Kaban government… Snub us again and you’re gonna be causin’ a war. Are we understood, Mister Heiros or whatever you called yourself?”
___
Talesa Square Capitol Building
Adjusting his demeanour, Monatt gave a more familiar pearly grin to the Capitolite once Zeister had caved in to his demands,
“Attaboy! That’s the Sasona Spirit!” With that, the politician took a look at the superintendent who gave a brief side-eye to Zeister before leaving. The President, once more heading to the door, turned,
“Oh, and Mister Zeister, you ARE called Zeister right? Keep in mind that these people have just launched a military coup against their ambassador to us… They’re basically a military junta right now- Keep them handled however you see fit, but just don’t make life worse for my government than it already is, hm?”
With that, the President left Zeister to prepare with his newly secured privileges, supplies and mission. A squad car was ready out in the capitol square to drop the Kommandant off at the legation at a moment's notice.
Chrysaor Castle
From the cheering and triumph of the Capitolite holdout, it seemed like the enemy had been thoroughly trounced as the only life among the fog was the cries of the dying. Though the Telirans made sure to leave some parting gifts through the fog in the form of stray shots to keep the Capitolite’s ducking.
In the following hours after the ultimatum by the bandana forces, an unsettling silence rolled over the castle. It was almost as if, amid this wall of fog, the entire city has been dissolved into another plane. Where there once were the rumblings of rioting, firefights and chaos, now there was the sound of nothing, absolutely nothing, and all the Capitolite’s could see was a wall of white.
The descending darkness of night arose new troubles. Over the sheet of foggy white, now the curtain of darkness too fell over the stronghold. But this time for the neighbourhood, the streetlights didn’t come on. Indeed, nothing connected to the city power grid was coming on. They had been cut off.
From the shadows came the odd rustle of something from the darkness, the occasional rapid series of running boots from place to place; still nothing could be seen. Whether this stronghold had been stockpiled of night-vision equipment or not, it was now clear that the assailants to the Capitolite neighbourhood were making an effort, contrasting to their behaviour prior, to do anything but be seen. Something was afoot, and in this silence of night and as the ultimatum time began to draw to a close, there was no doubt that trouble was brewing.
Finally, after half an hour of gut-wrenching unsteadiness, the quiet was broken. But rather than gunfire, the sound was the roaring of an engine. The bumbling engine revving was initially relatively far off, but it soon got louder and louder. Finally the screaming of the engine reached a fever-pitch as the vision of a car came hurtling through the cold night’s mist and smashing into the Capitolite barricades.
Whether the car broke through or not was irrelevant, it did not explode nor contain anything of danger, as it quickly became apparent. Upon inspection the only occupant of the vehicle was one figure. Whoever this person had been, they were evidently a human. Their face was mutilated, contorted, bludgeoned, gored and peeled beyond recognition, the eyes were gone; so was the tongue and ears. It seemed his belly had been cut awide, his reproductive organs gone and his neck laced with rope marks. Stuffed into the chest pocket of his torn shirt was a note, a note which revealed the identity of the deceased:
Colonial butcher, Davo Kalmine
Abandoned by his kind
Embraced by their fate
Shopping Stretch
As the Carnaithan and Jade party made their advance upon the retail property, they were met by no signs of hostility or harm. In fact, they were welcomed by the whooshing open of the still-active automatic doors. Redness of dusk was replaced by the darkness of night and the prime hours for the nocturnal Telirans, the glowing warmth and evident safety of Boxer’s seemed almost too appetising.
The scans of the place gave no indications of some ambush waiting ahead, though it was anyone’s guess if some kind of special hiding spot existed for such occasions in a place as pristine and well-built as this. From out of a utility room, suddenly, the figure of a portly businessman emerged into open view of the group. Immediately catching eye of them, the Human male gave a jolly wave before heading over,
“Hello! Come in, come in!” The man chuckled warmly as he twirled his bushy mustache perched under the safety of his rosey nose, “Welcome to Boxer’s! Kaban’s most respected source for all of your possible news! My name is Mister Royce…” The dapper form of Mr. Royce clasped his hands together as he stood by the doorway to welcome the group in,
“I must say, though, please keep your… Hm… Armaments, shall we say? On safety- I’ve only just had this floor waxed!” The laughing businessman joked as he began to walk back towards the tills, looking back to the group,
“...Well? Are you coming in? What can I get you?”
High Imperium
The Heiros' face might as well have been carved from ice, for all the expression he showed as Saunos raved and shouted. When the other man paused, he tilted his head sharply. "So. You will...take charge of the situation, will you? Will you also be able to maintain peace in this legation? Not one person, be they resident or rioter, has died since this embarrassment began, and I have kept it so, despite far rasher heads calling for blood."
Now his voice started to climb in volume to a grinding rumble. "And yet you and your government are more concerned with being snubbed, than the lives of your citizens. Oh yes, I understand you, Mr. Komargi. I understand that if one person dies because you and yours took charge here, then I shall personally have the records of this conversation distributed onto the Ancnet before I place a standing bounty of 5 SIGEC on your head...dead or alive. Therefore, I suggest that you do indeed manage to handle things."
Then he turned on his heel and left back to his office, calling over his shoulder for the receptionist to find accommodations for their guest and not to bother him until the next flunky from the government arrived.
Teleconference
Khamir sat back slightly, disappointed by the reply. He could understand of course, but it seemed almost too perfect that the insurgents had AA capabilities, surely that meant they had access to military equipment. If that was indeed the case, then hiding behind the embassy walls was about as effective as building a sandcastle to hold back the tide.
“Indeed, I feel the same way, perhaps when this is over, we could very well do so. Thank you for your reply” Khamir did not press the question further, because he was far more interested when Mylixen spoke up. They had seen little of the Orillians so far in the crisis, Khamir and Alak had debated about their involvement over some drinks even as the civilians came to the embassy. The Orillians tone seemed to confirm what Khamir was thinking all along, every damn chance they got they tried to undermine whoever and whatever they could for their cause. Given the situation in the High Imperium embassy and the Capitol quarter they were likely celebrating to the heavens.
Still Tetlisuns handling of Mylixen brought a brief but small smile to the Union ambassadors face, he truly felt sorry for the Teliran, the sheer diplomatic and political tape he was having to wade through for this was likely truly impossible.
“I would like to thank your efforts to resolve this peacefully so far Stadholder, I am sure you know our supply situation is dwindling. Given that coming in with helicopters and more would be at risk too much especially should they stop to try rescue individuals what about the possibility of a supply drop? Food is becoming much harder to acquire here and we do not know when help us coming. A fast supply drop may be very well needed to keep many of us alive”
Ophenia’s Troupe
The university students looked to each other as Oyle wandered off. Some whispered with each other and Ophenia looked on to try catch a small glimpse of the man’s room. The woman was tired honestly, sleep had come poorly to her and now the prospect of being dragged outside and openly executed in the street was stressing her beyond the limits of what she could take. They had a duty to protect their students, so far that wasn’t going well.
When Oyle came back into the room and spoke aloud the student’s eyes brightened up, the prospect of leaving and getting somewhere safe made the most of them happy. Some were still reserved, however. Ophenia couldn’t help but ask.
“Which embassies?”
High Imperium Legation
Zeister slicked back his hair in the car as he put his cap back on. His hair was still dripping wet but then he hadn’t gotten the chance to properly dry himself after the shower and change of clothes. At least he was clean and presentable now and out of that damn room as the vehicle carrying them to the High Imperium Legation sped on through checkpoints. Zeister now wore a uniform of the Kaban Police Commissioner and while it chaffed at him it was better than walking into this situation with his Capitol clothing on.
The car finally pulled up to the chaotic area and Zeister quickly got out.
“What a shit show” He said aloud. The crowds were both running from the legionaries but also trying to partially fight back where they could, which was of course incentivised more people to rise up. He straightened his uniform and nodded to his small escort of several police officers. Marching forward past the legionaries who he eyed with distain they moved into the embassy proper just in time to see Saunos Komargi trying to confront the situation.
“No. He will not, I will be taking charge of this situation. And given the response of your men outside I fully expect dead people on the ground within the next 5 minutes tops. I fully suggest you put your meaningless threats into the river out back where they belong, your bounty would be ignored quite easily while a crowd of several hundred locals tear your limbs from your body. Before you start ridiculing me, I have intimate experience with crowd suppression and riot de-escalation that’s why I am here. So, I suggest you listen to me” Zeister then pointed outside.
“Get your big armoured goons to stop their advance and de-escalate the situation before someone gets hurt and you have shooting on your hands”
Chrysoar Castle
The Capitolites had been manning the barricades for hours. The last of the stims had been distributed, coffee supplies had run out and some soldiers took small naps where they could. Night vision was rare, distributed only a handful of sets mostly to those in commanding lines of fire. Still Capitol civilians had joined in, carrying either hilariously outdated fire-arms with questionable use or carrying kitchen knives.
Still Trefeld had managed to get some small sleep, the occasional gunfire waking him up only for the situation to turn into nothing. But when night came, everyone was on station, the Capitolites were not idiots and some of these men had fought in proper combat. They knew a night attack was the best option, especially when the power was cut.
The sound of the roaring engine was clear as it raced out of the fog, bursts of fire followed, hitting the already dead driver and numerous points on the car the heavy machine gun on the Themis managed to destroy the engine but it was a futile gesture. The car lost control at speed, swerving to the right and careening into the left most barricade. Boxes, concrete and more went flying as the car was wrecked totally, the soldiers having flung themselves away from the impact. Still the damage was done as the flames revealed the occupant within, the left part of the barricade was buckled and heavily damaged. Immediately soldiers rushed to try push the burning car away from the barricade and civilians tried to throw objects back on to secure it. Trefeld himself stared at the burning corpse of Davo Kalmine.
The young Capitolite officer had endured much in his life, but the thought of immediate death at last was too much. The soldiers watched in confusion and anger as their commanding officer fell to his knees and began to cry.
SHOPPING STRETCH
Sergeant Takenaka narrowed his eyes, though this wasn't readily apparent to Mr Royce. Still, his voice alone conveyed his disbelief.
"Sir, you know city is in middle of civil war?" he said in his imperfect Common, peering around the interior from the doorway. Around Royce's head the little recon drone bumbled quietly, peeking into the utility room, behind the counter and in all the nooks and crannies it could find.
"We need food and sanitary supplies. We uh....can pay?" he said, a little surprised - he had been expecting to simply loot empty stores, perhaps fortify one as extra living space, not bargain with a shopkeeper for a bulk purchase of noodles in a cup or whatever the Teliran equivalent was, but life was strange.
The whole thing made him uneasy though and he waved his marines back, ordering them to watch the streets. The fact that a human, of all people, had been allowed to operate unmolested through all this was highly suspicious. Either Mr Royce was so beloved of his community that they gave him a free pass for being foreign, or things were not as they seemed here...
Envoy Avenue
Padov inherently felt safer at the embassy than out in the fog that had been a security concern even without the context of the contemporary unrest. Stood in the conference-room-turned-communal-area, he shifted between helping with chores and shuffling through camera feeds on his PDA and back again while listening to the nervous laughter of parents contrasting the genuine giggling of children who weren't old enough to notice the difference. His squad was spread desperately thin by themselves, and no matter how much official refusal they gave veterans and eager young men, armed militia helped cover bathroom breaks, naps, and meals. That last one was something the Lieutenant had been neglecting, and his body made this painfully obvious - literally - as a growl rumbled just loud enough for Miqiiz, the problematic rookie from the extraction sat next to him, to hear.
"I thought you said a good meal was the best and most important part of your service," The younger guard muttered quietly, eyes still closed with his PDW resting on his plate carrier. Lyk smirked, the rookie was getting attentive.
"Sure thing. Go fetch the sergeant for me so he can keep an eye on the feeds."
Shopping Stretch
"I believe his most valuable product is barred from those that mistreat him," Aphkaral commented as he approached the store, behind Takenaka. "You mentioned you're a source of news?" The hulking, though gentle-spoken, Tunora asked to the human. The others of his nationality window shopped, though Aph's jaded and attentive eyes didn't remain locked to Royce's jolly gaze. There was definitely much to be found here - no doubt purchases, both of a materiel nature and very likely informational, had been made, yet he was still well-stocked.
"Regardless of our gains here," he began again in a hushed tone, turning back to the Jade sergeant, "It may generally be in our best interest to ferry what we've already found back to the people that need it." The Tunora looked past the armored soldier, seeing the two Carnaithians stare at the Respite and skittishly scan the shapes in the fog respectively. "I hate to admit this, but I don't trust my fellows to be the greatest of help if things were to become complicated."
Teleconference
Tetlisun didn’t seem to reply immediately to Khamir’s question. Instead, the group of alien ambassadors were left to the awkward silence of Tetlisun calmly doing and saying nothing for several moments. It was unclear whether this interval was on some kind of technical issue or if the Stadtholder was thinking, whatever the case, the reply finally came:
“...I will see what I can do.” The Stadtholder proceeded to then move on to several smaller, most particular questions held by a number of unaligned consuls dotted around the city, predominantly the Southbank, before cooly collating some papers as though he were preparing to leave as he concluded,
“Well, unless anyone has any remaining questions, I'm afraid I must wrap this up. Just please do not forget that the ASN too has staff trapped in the middle of things down there at the Unity Tower. None of you have been forgotten.”
High Imperium Legation
The presumption by the Heiros left the bureaucrat smirking, even more so once Zeister strode in.
“Ah”, Komargi beamed with open arms to the newcomer, “Jus’ the guy ah was hopin’ for.”
The Teliran turned back to the Imperial, pointing a thumb back to the Kommandant, “This is Mister. Zeister, he’ll be gettin’ your affairs in order as our Liaison Officer to the legation.” The portly Teliran seemed more than smug about the entire situation as he headed for the door,
“I trust you’ll afford Mister. Zeister all of the proper respects ‘n’ rights suited to his station; i’ll leave the dispatched police under his jurisdiction for…” He paused, looking to the Kommandant, “Assurances for his safety.” With that, Komargi merely tipped his hat and headed out the door to rush back to his means out of the quarter.
Shoving himself back into his car as he pelted back down the road and away from the chaos and rising tensions among the legation street and past the reswelling masses that formed anywhere they could find a place to. Drawing his phone, Komargi looked out of his car window to the reflection of the streetlights flashing by as he waited for the other side to pick up, finally speaking,
“Zeister has arrived at the Imperial Legation.” The Teliran smiled to himself as rubbed his cheek, “If the crowds don’t kill ‘em, the pair of them will butcher each other… No doubt about it.” Komargi terminated the call.
As midnight came upon the legation once more, Zeister’s claims were proving to be prophetic. Having been scattered prior, Teliran groups had simply found indoor areas to reorganise and were now coming back out onto the streets under the nightsky by force. The fogwall was only making locating ringleaders or coordinating dispersals all difficult. Gunfire at Imperial units through the mist from unknown directions during gatherings were making it extremely difficult to refrain from firing at crowds, as well as the location of the perpetrators as they disappeared to any location they could.
Ontop of such dissent, individuals were now utilizing civilian drones on legation grounds to drop refuse or even bricks from high altitudes down upon government cars or even workers. Anti-colonial graffiti was now finding itself onto large open streets amid the chaos and discord while the worst of the report was yet to come. A Royal Federation trader in the Federation quarter, a middle-aged male, had been reported dead in his apartment; killed by two shots to the face and one to the chest at point-blank range. Eye witness claims asserted, in every account, that the killer was a Human male.
He also headed in the direction of the High Imperium legation.
The Royal Federation Legation had already responded to the developing situation by official statements which were quicker to assume Imperial guilt than innocence. The willingness of the High Imperium’s government to allow such actions to be initiated from under their jurisdiction, the Federation legation argued, was a sign of implicit disinterest in preventing them. The final statement made by the legation was simple: Turn out the killer or ‘the Royal Federation will be forced to enter Imperial territory themselves’.
__
Ophenia’s Troupe
Oyle shifted on the spot a little, clearly hesitant to explain things further as he grumbled,
“The closest and safest place will be the Orillian Embassy.” He quickly raised an authoritative, wrinkled hand to curtail any potential protests so he could add, “Going that way will let us right through the safe streets of the corporate quarter… The first half of the way will still be dangerous, which’s why we’re waitin’ for this fella to come along.”
He paused, looking at the looks of the rest of those around the table, “These Orillian folks ain’t friends with your ‘Union of Worlds’ for sure… But they ain’t killers, they ain’t bad folks. They ain’t gonna go about executing citizens of ol’ Natar, nor your alien empire. We’ll be able t’ cross to the safer Southbank ‘fter that and work out where we’re goin’ from there.”
_
Chrysaor Castle
It was a few minutes into the chaos that the garrison at the Chrysaor Castle, in their confused and disgruntled state, suddenly began to receive several cracks and wizzes. Bullets began to come flying through the fog and towards the men at the barricades. Following the hail of projects came a new threat from above. A dozen drones, likely used for delivery, were now repurposed for far more violent objectives. Each, carrying what were clearly IED’s, came descending upon the Capitolites below; honing down onto forces manning the barricades while some came smashing through house windows to blow up the insides.
Amid the confusion, suppression and danger from all directions came the next coordinated move. Timed just after the drones began appearing, Telirans came rushing through the pitch-black foggy night. Some armed with small arms, others with machetes. The attackers were no longer a dozen half-hearted skirmishers, but hundreds of prepared souls rushing amid the lull of the defender’s organisation.
The previously quiet night now erupted into a terrible cacophony of screeches and screams as night assault came rushing to the makeshift defences, they came clambering over what obstacles they could. They came hacking, wailing, slashing and burning, and they didn’t stop at the sight of pointed guns anymore. These people now acted as a determined swarm, all feverishly trying to overwhelm the attackers in their perceived vulnerability.
_
Shopping Stretch
“You know what they say!” Royce chorted, “If you pick a fight with a Boxer, don’t expect to win!” The businessman chuckled at his own job before turning his smiling face to the Carnaithan and nodding,
“I indeed sell anything under the sun, from information to supplies! But nothing comes cheap.” Royce added with a mix between joviality and a warning tone.
“And if you don’t mind me saying, sirs… If what I've been hearing is true, you shall be needing all the help you can get!”
The drone that went about probing the interior at Boxer’s found its main room to be completely natural and normal. Peeking through the utility room, however, it saw nothing. But perhaps that was something to be concerned about. There was absolutely nothing in any of the back rooms. No furniture, no stock, no people, no nothing. It seemed that, considering the emptiness of the room Royce had come from before they arrived, he had been standing in a completely empty room doing nothing until they arrived.
All the way amid their discourse, sounds were growing outside. The rumble of crowds and havoc almost seemed to leap in intensity without even being noticeable how close they were getting. With the fog there was no way of telling how close the danger of the rebellion’s encroachments were, but it certainly sounded like they were far too close for comfort.
“Might I recommend that we make a rush of this exchange…? I don’t suspect we have long to mingle.” Royce inquired with a beam.
___
Envoy Avenue
The rumble of trouble was now getting close to the ambassadorial territories, too close. With the approaching tide of hostility came a renewed rise in the number of hostile citizens that began to find their way onto the avenue; their numbers were swelling.
It wasn’t just protesters that were starting to mass where they could, clogging the streets, but there were refugees too. Mostly Telirans, these people were coming like the wave pushed forward before a tsunami. Displaced by the threat of those that would harm them, these people, all endangered for their own reasons, had been pushed along the threshold of revolutionary territory and these people were now trying to find sanctuary here. The people that began to swell the avenue was growing into the hundreds, even the thousands.
With protesters and collaborators now on the same street, with militants not far away, the danger was clear. Already scuffles, harrassment, battles and standoffs were occurring between both sides of the story.
It wasn’t long after this hotspot of friction appeared that ‘help’ for the refugees arrived. The Tesfeld Paramilitary groups were starting to also show up amid this gathering in the street. These counterrevolutionary militiamen, several dozen strong, were armed with their own weapons and determined to pick fights with the anti-colonial protesters. Headed by one ‘Colonel Tasimbi’, an ex-soldier for the Tesfeld Army, the paramilitary forces typically kept out of eyeshot of the embassy security, but news came that they were now beginning to threaten, assault and even shoot at any protesters they came up against.
The refugees of course loved this. The paramilitary, to them, was helping to protect them from anti-colonial thugs, especially if the embassies had no plan in housing all of these endangered Telirans. Tasimbi was also reportedly willing to hunker down his forces with the embassy to bolster its defensive strength.
On the flipside, it was clear this Tesfeld counterrevolutionary group had no reconciliatory tones for the rebels and were making zero effort to deescalate things. Unless they were forced away from the avenue, the militia was only going to further demonise the colonials and alienate face-sitters and the apathetic.
SHOPPING STRETCH
One of the marines muttered something to Sergeant Takenaka and he immediately took a step backwards, raising his rifle.
"There's nothing in those store rooms, this is a trap." he announced loudly, glancing behind him at the encroaching sounds of violence. He repeated the last four words in Common so that the Carnaithians could understand, and then recalled his three marines back into the street, backing away from Boxer's. Kato had already taken the LAV back to the embassy to begin unloading what supplies they'd already found, but he radioed for the marine to button back up and come get them, even as they began a quicktime jog back down the street.
What had been quiet before was now heaving. Ahead of them it was a little thinner, as the protestors and refugees alike worked up the courage to get closer to the bright lights and wary guns of the foreign embassies, but either side and behind his quartet of marines the silhouettes of Telirans were showing thick through the fog.
Takenaka surreptitiously flipped the safety on his AA-42...
Envoy Avenue
It was incredible just how quickly a situation could deteriorate. Within twenty-four hours the traffic on the streets around the embassies had gone from locals quickly trying to accomplish their personal business to throngs of paramilitaries and very worried people. Liutenant Lyk had been, again, glued to the cameras, and had been trying to brainstorm solutions to the issue. Neither group, mingled as they were, trusted the other, and the amount of violence that both had engaged in had thrown the idea that people side with those who get less people killed out of the window simply as a result of the lack of accountability.
The plan was to spend some time identifying well-behaved, prominent community members out of the crowd and bringing them into the consulate one-by-one for consultation as crowd leaders. They would be directed mobilize the moderate elements of the colonial sympathizers to barricade the roads and take up residence in the buildings nominally owned by Carnaithian citizens instead of camping in the street. The problem was that this would take several hours of internet trawling and consultation with those familiar with the local scene before even the first of these individuals could be brought in and out. The more militant counter-protesters had to be reigned in - they didn't want to be seen, it seemed, but they could have their uses if they could be convinced to just talk to security.
Shopping Stretch
"Fuck, what do we do?" One of the Carnaithians quickly asked Aphkaral as the Jade marines began to backpedal back towards the embassy, the hum of chatter encroaching from the other direction. The Tunora mournfully dipped his head to Royce.
"We'll have to find some other time for it, I fear. Good bids to you," The hulking veteran said to the strange human shopkeeper before about-facing and following the Ingenious troops. "We're leaving," he uttered to his companions, who much more hurriedly and much less orderly followed.
Royal Federation
Meltar looked Zeister over slowly for a few moments as Komargi left. Then he nodded and turned on his heel, gesturing for the Commissioner to follow as he headed for the elevator and opened his comm, giving orders for the maniple to pull back and allow the police to take care of the situation for the moment. Entering the office, he brought up a display for the entire Legation, with known units and positions labeled. "I will allow that at first glance you seem to have experience with matters like this." The officer chuckled ruefully and shook his head. "Truthfully, the Academies teach more about riot elimination than riot suppression. That's far from the most pressing matter, though. The Federation Legation is rattling sabers at our door, and I've got no clue as to the whereabouts of their murderer. "
Leaning back, he left the table open. "So. Your suggestions, then?"
Envoy Avenue
The teleconference had ended and Khamir had leant back into his seat stressed. It wasn’t exactly the outcome he had wanted, but at the same time he knew Tetlisun wasn’t just playing them lip service, this was serious and the Stadholder was clearly trying to push things through. He didn’t envy the man.
But he sure as hell didn’t envy himself at the current moment in time. He had gone to again walk about the people in the embassy and told them of the meetings contents, saying about the plan to send in forces and secure the city to ensure everyone got out. It raised spirits a bit but the inevitable question of ‘when?’ kept being floated around. Of course, Khamir had no idea, so he was honest, it didn’t meet well with the peoples morale but it was better than nothing. He didn’t want to lie to them at this point in time, it was too volatile.
That wasn’t to mention the action coming closer to them, the protests, the fights, the revolutionaries, and counter revolutionaries. It was all going to hell quicker than he thought, gunshots were closer, shouting was closer, and security kept him up to date. Khamir wasn’t entirely sure on how to handle the coming situations so he had delegated that to Calico with full authority. The security chief was working closely with the Carnaithians of course, and Calico learned in to one of the cameras showed another small fight.
“We need to get some of the big ones in here to talk if we want any chance of surviving some of the big fights coming. It might not look good, but I think survival is the better option at this point, I have fought crowds on Celefra, never again if I can help it” The Union sergeant spoke, directing his comment to Khamir who had also come into the room to observe with him and Lyk.
“Yes I agree. By creation” He sounded so weary “Do what we must, make any invitations you need”
Ophenias Troupe
The announcement that they were going to the Orillian embassy practically caused the entire group to erupt into horrified and angry faces all around.
“We cant go there! They will hold us hostage and interrogate us!”
“They aint killers? Then why did they attack La Serena!”
“Surely we would be better just surviving the streets and going to our embassy…”
“Quiet!” Ophenia put her finger to her lips which caused the others to realise and stop shouting “With all due respect sir, the Orillian embassy will not be safe for us either, perhaps you can get us to a safe spot and we can make our own way?”
Chrysaor Castle
The chaos and confusion of the attack and the sudden breakdown of Trefeld under stress threatened to totally destroy the Capitol hold out then and there. Bullets whizzed overhead as the Teliran insurgents came in full bore, several men on the line went down to well placed shots as the moment of confusion and total uncertainty was exploited to the full by the attackers. For a moment the morale battle of the Capitolites was about to falter but help came from an unexpected source.
An old lady, clearly Capitol in origin and holding nothing more than a frying pan stood up to the line and began shouting orders. Instinctively given the Capitol training loud shouting of orders made the soldiers react, regardless of their current mental state. Slowly but surely proper return fire was put down gunning down the insurgents as they rushed the line. Trefeld was taken away by several civilians as the woman bellowed commands, she was after all somewhat renowned in Chrysoar castle, ‘Grandma Garren’ they called her, one of the few women who had ever held a commanding rank back in the days of Herakles.
As several angry men clambered over the barricade Grandma Garren was still shouting orders for disciplined fire, smacking one in the head with her frying pan before a nearby soldier redirected his fire, gunning the men down. Fear was no longer an option, this was a fight for survival.
“Grenades now!” The order was shouted, the single box of grenades they held onto had been distributed, and several were now thrown into the street. They had no quarrel in using every weapon at their disposal, even the civilians here knew this was it. They were fighting to the death, even as they went down to gunfire themselves, the very city was against them.
High Imperium Legation
Zeister prepared to hold his ground with Meltar, fully ready for a shouting match. Thankfully the man wasn’t totally incompetent and Zeister followed as he beckoned.
“Over a decade of experience. Riot elimination is a sure fire way of being overthrown, and here its practically committing public suicide. You need to have your men pull back, let them gain a bit of ground, let them burn some shops down, let them vent their rage on some High Imperium buildings. Keep your men away and try not to give them a target. If what you say is true then you will need them for if the Royal Federation tries anything stupid. If you have any anti drone measures use them” Zeister was practically listing the methods he knew.
“I would get looking, if absolute need be pick a scapegoat. De-escalation is paramount at the moment, you have a baying mob that’s one step behind turning into a full on attack force”
General
As Tetlisun’s Conference came to a close, so too came the rally held by Bishop Clement at the Kilefa Park. The rally had been to promote peaceful dissidence; passive resistance. Instead, the news quickly came out of what had just transpired.
Finishing his speech to the masses that had come to watch through the fog, the crack of two gunshots had pierced the park and sent the frail figure of the old clergyman toppling to the floor. Already, representatives from the Teliran Capitolitist movement of the continent had already claimed credit for the act; accusing Clement of endangering the lives of the Tesfeld people and of Natar’s stability as a whole. The movement did not bring forth any particular profile for the unnamed assassin of theirs.
The Raxis Administration, oceans away in the rustic kingdom of Nardal, now controlled by the Capitolitist Coalition there, was rapid to condemn the actions of the local Teliran Capitolitists; stating that their actions, ‘did not represent the greater interests of the Capitolitist Political Movement on Natar as a whole’. Regardless of the politics, the greatest pacifying voice from within the revolutionary movement of Sasona now lay dead, and any respect for the Colonials now held by the separatist locals now lay with him.
The fog that had plagued Kaban thus far was now deteriorating. Leaving in its wake a full view through the night of the flames that licked from the skyline of the city like candles in the distance.
Envoy Avenue
As the Jade and Carnaithan force departed from Boxer’s, they departed with a simple bow from the owner before he set about lowering the store shutters. The streets leading up to the embassies were now filled, with people cramming the street like sardines. The masses were starting to panic at the growing violence on the fringes of the gathering; others were worrying over the approaching rebel forces that now advanced through the streets of Kaban unperturbed.
As this confusion and desperation grew, efforts to push towards the embassies and into their compounds grew. All it took was one gunshot from the crowd to initiate the complete collapse of order in the embassy streets into disarray. Almost immediately the avenue shattered with the screams of hundreds of locals as the crowds immediately began rushing past each other in a blind panic for safety.
Jostling, barging and trampling, the masses pushed forth to the embassy in a blind frenzy. Crowds pushed people over, crushing them below as the desperate refugees all began trying to squeeze through into the embassy anyway they could.
Inside, the Union and Carnaith had already received one key figure from the situation outside before the invitations and gathering process for the ringleaders had begun. Colonel Tasimbi had already entered the building before the chaos had broken out; now he was waiting to be dignified with a staff meeting. Tasimbi commanded the paramilitaries now providing what little buffer and protection was being afforded for the embassies, but he was not a kind man. He was a fierce and determined war veteran. Tasimbi had reportedly lost 8 comrades to past Sasonish insurrections and, in turn, he had afforded little mercy to those rioters caught by his lawless forces.
News was fast approaching that the rebels were now on the fringes of the avenue from both the east and west simultaneously. The already chaotic crowds were now becoming blocked in with the limited embassy defences.
Ophenia’s Troupe
Oyle looked to a student, simply commenting,
“I don’t know what La Serena is.”
“Anyhows.” He turned his attention to Ophenia. “As far as I know, the way to your embassy is completely cut off now by the revolutionary army. That’s why the Orillian Embassy is the only other surefire safe place I knows we can get to from here… Now I might not be some high-flying university professor… But it ain’t no good look for an ambassador to Natar to go about executing Natar’s own peoples when they come for sanctuary… Is it?”
He paused, “The only other place I knows is the corporate sector, ‘n’ i’m not sure if they can hold out this storm.”
Just then came a knock from the door. Oyle’s head quickly sparked up as he hurriedly went to unlock it. For a moment he murmured to whoever stood beyond. Finally, he opened it up; revealing a figure. Covered in what looked to be a gasmask, along with rags, boots, bandages and almost anything else that could cover his body. The cascade of browns, greys and other such dull-colours; alongside his sniper rifle made it quite apparent that the troupe were not meeting a pacifist.
“This is Taliki Masarr… He’s an old friend of mine… From my days as an interpreter to his tribe.”
Chrysaor Castle
The clamber for the castle was proceeding just as the attack had intended. Before the Capitolites could even reorganise, the rebels were already at the wall. So many explosions were going off back and forth that it made it near impossible to tell who was being attacked by each one. As the Teliran attackers began vaulting over any point they can, smashing through windows if they could, battering down barricades with cars and other such equipment, chaos became an inevitability. Grenades sent limbs flying as men screamed simultaneously for mercy and for blood.
But once the Telirans were inside of the compound, the real resistance began to build. Rallied around their commanding figure, the Capitolites now began a fanatical stand to survive. Automatic weapons began to carry the day as less and less charging rebels took the courage to sally forth into the frey as time went on.
The surprise assault had begun turning into a bloody meat grinder and no one wanted to charge into that. Slowly but surely, the number of revolutionaries firing or charging upon the defenders began to decline. Their own fierceness, however, only mounted. For these Telirans, they were already surrounded by their worst enemy. For them there was no hope of retreat from this compound, for them it was fight or die; each of them died in a frantic and desperate bid to preserve their lives against their foes.
Eventually, those isolated Telirans fell too, and once more the Castle fell silent to the crackling of fires, the creaking of collapsing structures and the agonising moans of the dying. As the battle died down, the scale of the carnage became apparent: There was scarcely an open space on the floor untouched by rubble, blood or corpses. At the very least, now, the fog was clearing up.
ENVOY AVENUE
Takenaka swore under his breath. Milling crowds stood between them and the embassy. If he'd still had the LAV he'd have just bundled everyone in and told Kato to floor it, but on foot...even with their menacing gunspears he didn't want to try force a way through the crowds. The chances of getting through without civilian casualties, or worse his own squad being swamped, were too low.
He yelled at his squad to follow and they ducked south into an alleyway, loosing their drones again, one to hover over the rooftops and chart a path whilst the other went ahead to spot potential trouble. He hoped to loop south and west through the lesser alleyways and streets and find the rear of the embassy, but already things had gone too far off-plan for his liking...
High Imperium
The other man grunted, and tapped his fingers on the desk for a minute before nodding. "Seems sound enough. We'll see how it goes." From there, the orders go out with relative speed, and the soldiers withdraw back to the embassy tower. Emboldened, the mob's roars blend into a single rumbling roar as they loot and sack the surrounding buildings.
From the window of his office, Meltar watches the flames flicker out of broken windows. "I do hope you were right about all of this. As for that scapegoat, I think we definitely need to consider finding one sooner rather than later."
Envoy Avenue
"This is insane," Alak whispered to himself in exasperation, thumb on chin as he called across to Khamir. The lobby below, which had been strongly held by Lyk's men, resembled some form of orderly - pre-existing security measures prevented the crowd from affecting anything dangerous, and the combination of diplomatic staff and carnaithian citizens who had become local community pillars both speaking to the crowd in front of the cordon, as well as the half-dozen riot launcher-armed troopers on the balconies above, gave reason for any given mindset to keep their demeanor. Vitiri still had citizens outside of the building, though it had been very clearly made obvious that leaving was their choice. Still, they had been doing a job that needed to be done. "Hello Khamir," He quickly started once his fellow had picked up the line, "This Tasimbi fellow is pressing for a staff meeting. Should we all meet together?"
--//--
"No alarms yet, that's good."
Padov wanted to chastise Miqiiz with one tidbit of military philosphy or another, but it was absolutely not necessary right now. It would be disruptive, a distraction.
"Just keep your eye on that terminal," The Lieutenant commented, looking down on the lobby from the top floor balcony. hidden behind the railing from the crowd was a large-bore rifle loaded with spider rounds; smart taser cartridges that, in a split-second, attuned themselves to target physiology for incredibly reliable non-lethal takedowns. He would normally have a dedicated trooper on sniper duty, but his force was still mobilizing and the militia elements from the expat groups were still being armed for guarding places other than the high-tension lobby.
"If we get anything on the MMS, then we have a problem. Until then, let the civilian staff handle it."
Envoy Avenue
Khamir napped his finger nervously on the overlook to the ground floor lobby, watching the crowds outside try to push past one another and barge into the entire building. While the Carnaith security tried to hold back the crowd the Union security personnel did whatever they could to slowly vet those that got in, some slipping past the cordon only to be grabbed by a man or women in security clothes. It was getting horrific.
The assassination of bishop clement had practically guaranteed them a swift death from the rioters and insurgents. There was no way to help colonial opinion now, only to ride out the ever-increasing insanity. Staff flitted about moving whatever small amounts of supplies they had left, they could barely keep themselves going let alone the crowd out there too. It took Alak calling to him to take the ambassador out of his trance. The Unioners face looked haunted and disturbed before he took a deep breath and nodded.
“Yes, he may be out only hope at buying some more time. He can be brutal, but we don’t have any other choice.” He came over to stand beside Alak and kept his voice down “We may be very well forced to make some controversial and terrible actions soon” He sighed. Clicking his fingers to a staff member walking past he got her attention.
“You there you wouldn’t mind bringing Mr Tasimbi up to us, would you?”
Ophenias Troupe
“Not that that’s ever stopped them…” One of the students muttered, they kept their voices down and talked among themselves. Ophenia sagged as she realised what was likely to happen. The Orillians wouldn’t kill them, they would use them as a bargaining chip, as hostages also likely. Oyle handing this group over to them would be like offering diamond to someone obsessed with trinkets. Just as Ophenia was about to reply the figure stepped in, causing many to take a step back out of fear.
“He will be able to get us to safety?” Ophenia said aloud. At this point, there was probably only one choice and that was to go to the Orillians, from the sounds outside things were only getting worse. They just had to hope the Orillians wouldn’t treat them poorly.
“Alright we will go. Let us grab our things” Murmurs of disagreement from the students came, but they had little choice.
High Imperium Legation
“It will work as a temporary measure” Zeister said defiantly in reply watching the flames of the buildings attacked rise from the window.
“As for a scapegoat pick one at random, but I assure you finding the actual killer would be a better option. At least make the scapegoat seem plausible, you need to be seen actually taking the initiative, actually doing what needs to be done for the people here benefit. Right now, you look like enemy No.1, we need to work on changing that”
Chrysoar Castle
The smoke and gunfire began to clear as the devastation on the Capitolite segment became clear. Several buildings had been left blackened ruins, bodies of both sides littered the ground, and the barricade was all but gone, the Themis APC which had protected them now having one side of it battered in, its track had been thrown, but perhaps with effort it could be repaired. Civilians who had come out to fight mourned their family members who had fallen or themselves lay dead on the concrete. Grandma Garren herself stood defiantly looking out across the ruined barricade.
“Ma’am” A soldier tiredly saluted. The old woman sternly gave a nod “Ammunition is very low, we have around 3 grenades left and I don’t believe we can withstand another assault. I may suggest we haul up in the inner building-“
“No” The old woman shook her head “Get this track repaired. How many do we have left?” The soldier was taken aback but tired.
“Uh around 53 ma’am including the civilian survivors”
“Get everyone together, grab everything you can. Fix this track and get the APC up and running again, collect the few civilian vehicles from the street. We are leaving the moment we can. We will bulldoze through them and move to a more secure location”
“Uh where ma’am?”
“Wherever Zeister went to. Failing that, the other embassies. Now move!”
The destruction of Aerial Unit 4 extended across much of the city. From Envoy Avenue to across the river, the rumble of a distant explosion spread across the city like thunder. But for nearly an hour, there was little certainty for those not there of what had happened.
As the afternoon drew in, clarity came forth. While social media accounts were first to report what they had seen, news would later confirm the news. Along a major Kaban roadway, a Tesfeld police helicopter had been shot from the sky by an unknown weapon and assailant; crashing into the street below. The victim count was still unknown, and few authorities were available to rapidly get the situation concluded. But the implications were severe.
This was becoming more than just a disorganised state of disorder, the masses were becoming armed with weapons to throw the city into a complete revolution. The attack, which had occurred on Natse-Lane had been paired by a series of gun shootings on riot police units close to the Union University who had been attempting a major counter-effort towards the uncontrolled areas. Such riot police groups were now in full withdrawal, with some reportedly having been completely encircled by the mobs who had now become incensed in the idea of a full revolution.
Other groups from the revolutions were, however, giving a beacon of hope for resolution. The most notable were the Berlun religious opposition to the Tesfeld. They were set to host a rally at
The Terefra Rallying Grounds the very next day, which many were banking on restoring another reprieve for Kaban. Their leader, after all, was respected by all, and his commitment to emphasising peaceful noncompliance would certainly postpone the outbreak of further violence. But until now, everyone was expected to hold out for the night.
Yet more police cars came speeding through the city streets on a regular schedule. But now they were going in a different direction.
They were all driving away from the riot zones.
Ingen
Kato gritted her teeth as the Respite crashed into the gap between two police cruisers, half crumpling the nose of one and the trunk of the other, spinning them out of the way with a grinding squeal of metal that would no doubt leave its mark on the front of the LAV.
"Spooky fucking...." Marine Ulbatan trailed off from the passenger seat, staring out of the window at the grey Telirans who watched them silently as they passed.
From the back seat, Yoshida spluttered, recovering himself after having been thrown sideways by the impact.
"What are you doing? Do you have any idea how much...the paperwork!" he complained, before Ulbatan turned to look back at him.
"Sir, with all due respect it was our only choice. So sorry."
Behind them, in the bed of the truck, Takenaka waved languidly at the Telirans as the convoy accelerated away...
SOME TIME LATER
The LAV and two buses rolled onto Envoy Avenue without fanfare, their drivers weary and their passengers nerve-wracked. The drive had been largely uneventful, but the fear that they would be intercepted had haunted them the whole way, and the huge explosion that, unknown to them, was Aerial Unit 4 going down, had added urgency to their journey.
The convoy pulled up outside the Union embassy and the Jade marines poured out first, their attitudes relaxed as the street appeared to be largely free of protestors, or indeed of anyone at all. Yoshida climbed out, stretching and gasping in pain, his body not used to the rigours of a cramped combat vehicle.
"Inside, go go!" called out Takenaka, waving the students and staff up the front steps of the Union embassy as his marines scanned the street for trouble...
Upper Natse-Lane (Union)
Ophenia was starting to panic.
As the bus went up in flames behind them the proper attacks came as they made their way into the main road. The noise was unbearable, the constant roaring of people and slurs came in so hard and fast she could barely hear what they were saying. But she did make out some of what was being said ‘Go home colonials!’ ‘Your poison!’ ‘Down with the Union!’ ‘Capitol should have won!’ and countless others. She was starting to feel hollow when the first of the proper attacks came in, a bottle smashed in the middle of the group eliciting shouts from the students before Mr. Tranch, a teacher of galactic history was rushed by two individuals who smacked him over the head with a baseball bat. They were fought off by two angry students who helped the man recover and helped drag him although his head was bleeding badly.
Another was hit by more confident rioters when the helicopter came over. The sound was unmissable, and the entire group seemed to be elated. As it hovered and drove away the crowd’s people waved and cheered, they had been saved and now they could get out of here.
That was until the blast, and the helicopter fell turning into a flailing fireball as it exploded on the ground. Horror gripped everyone even the rioters who fled, pushing through and knocking down students as the faculty tried to keep control. Ophenia was shouting for them to stay together when the approach of the Teliran and his cried shouts caught her attention. Not entirely trusting but with the situation escalated beyond safety Ophenia nodded and pointed to the shop calling for everyone to move in there.
Chrysoar Castle (Capitol)
Zeister stood for a moment, looking around at his men in formation and the buildings containing the families. They simply didn’t have enough vehicles to take everyone with them and Zeister knew if he took soldiers away from the defence here, he would be condemning all those remaining to a horrible death.
“I will come with you Kmara. As you say there is no need to die here, and with any luck I can co-ordinate the help we have called in better wherever we will be going whenever it manages to turn up. You have to promise me in return however that we will do everything we can to support the people here” He was stern in his reply. And immediately gestured for Trefeld his second in command to come over.
“Yes sir? Are we getting help?” The man asked tired. Zeister nodded.
“I am placing you in charge of the situation here, I am going with the superintendent to help direct law enforcement given their sub commanders are doing such a piss poor job of it and they need discipline. From there I can also direct proper relief for all our people here. You are to hold against this scum at all costs until I get back, you will hear from me soon. Tell the men I have gone to get help; I should not be long” Zeisters command made Trefeld hesitate for a brief moment before he saluted.
“As you say sir. Thank you for the honour of command we will not disappoint you. I wish you the best speed possible” Trefeld then turned and marched off. Zeister smiled to Kmara.
“Let’s get going”
Envoy Avenue (Union)
“Lets hope they can break through and that our Jade friends boisterous choice of vehicle is beneficial. They must be trying to tie us up in bureaucracy…” Khamir sighed before looking at Alak. As much as he hated to admit it his Carnaithian compatriot was right, it was time to enact critical measures. The university had been burnt to the ground and he had people stuck all over facing injury or worse because of the riots. He had a hand over his face as he sat back into his chair with a short silence.
“Your right. I will get our people on doing the same. I suggest we declare a local emergency, get everyone we can into this area with whatever supplies they have and we hunker down. Your idea of setting up our own information broadcast is an excellent one I would have never thought of, perhaps we can use one of the embassies communications hubs as a platform for our own bastardised radio station. When I get time ill call the Union government and give them full intel of whats gone on here, especially the actions of Monatt, in detail “The anger in his voice was clearly palpable.
There was a knock on the door to the room and the sound of engines outside.
“Come in!” Khamir said aloud, his aid, a young woman peered into the room.
“Sir the security forces are back along with the Jade and University members” Khamir seemed to visibly relax and smiled to Alak.
“Finally some good news, send Arthur and the head of the Jade security in if you will”
The gates to the envoy compound were barricaded and watched over by Union security teams mixed with Carnaithian security as the two forces covered each others enclosed residence. The looks of happiness upon seeing the group arrive though was clear as they set about clearing the entrance before opening the small embassy grounds gates and letting the vehicles and people in.
“Welcome back, and thank you for saving our people, and good to see you and your lot are ok Arthur” Sergeant Calico stepped forward thanking Yoshida, Takenaka and Padov. He was in proper Union combat power armour, but it was one of only three suits they had available, with one having been in the middle of maintenance and hardly used, truth be told they didn’t have the capacity to properly repair or run them.
“Ambassadors Khamir and Alak are upstairs they might want to be appraised of what happened and what you encountered” Arthur looked dark and sighed.
“Not all of us made it Sergeant, but thank you I will be up shortly.”
Royal Federation
Analise sat and listened to the Bishop as he explained, all the while she began initiating communications with Corps, as the situation was about to change drastically.
"Madame Corps, Listening to the Bishop has brought some interesting choices to light. As per protocol i'm referring back to you for what to do in this matter." Analise asked respectfully
"Hmmm, The Imperium is in no shape to do anything to us on the galactic stage, but forcing our way into their legation would start a micro war. I would prefer to keep as many people both ours and theres alive and keep the fighting across the river. Send some of the embassy troops out to scout around the legation. Give them official vehicles and have it be under a banner of increased security for the Federation assistance crews. We'll keep an eye on them and if they do anything funny we'll mobilise to bring them into line." Corps replied.
"Understood, I'll dispatch the orders now."
"Give the bishop a warm response and let him know about our plan. Helping these people and removing oppression will do us some good on the galactic stage."_
Analise turned her attention back to the Bishop, mere nano seconds had passed since he finished his sentence.
"I share your desire for peace Bishop, rest assured i have consorted with my superior and we will start keeping an eye on the Imperium. If they are looking to be doing anything suspect to incite more violence or cruelty then we will move to bring them into line." Analise gave a reassuring look to the Berlun.
High Imperium
Gaivran grunted and tapped his fingers on the desk in thought. The fact that Tetlisun himself apparently had a stake in this was...interesting. Although in reflection, it shouldn't have been surprising. The Stadtholder was charged with representing the ASN to the greater galaxy, therefore it only stood to reason that he'd take an interest when a city started tearing itself apart and threatening foreign embassies.
Still. Something wasn't right. Not with the ASN's interest here, and not with the situation at large. Honestly, the more time he spent here, the more he was coming to understand the common merchant's sentiment of "When dealing with Telirans, check the contract twice. Then check again." Tetlisun and the people who worked for him might be arrogant asses, but all antagonizing them was going to get him was a demotion, if he was lucky. Kateht Eroth was one of the more stable dreft true, but there were still horror stories about what she did when her temper was up. Sighing, he tapped his intercom.
"Tell the maniple to get prepped and ready to go. In the meantime, see if you can't slip some plainclothes into the mob to figure out possible hot spots."
Envoy Avenue
The cheers from the Carnaithian personnel at the boundaries of the compound were cut short by the reverberating blast in the distance - a dull thud accented by the whine of anything it resonated with. Several troopers immediately turned their sights down the street in either direction, checking for local disturbances as more of the local Carnaithian population rushed across the street. The security team didn't seem too concerned with the immediate vicinity, seeing as they had cleared the alley between the buildings and barricaded it to deter further hooliganism until such a point where more determined pushes against the embassies were made.
The Passengers that had been calmed since the push through the checkpoint had again shrieked and ducked in the vehicle, Lyk being more concerned with the sound itself. The executive limo pulled into the Union compound this time, instead of trying to usher the students they were carrying through a crowd of rowdy expats cluttering the vertically-aligned Imperial embassy. Lyk calmly climbed out of the cab, opening the front door of the passenger area and letting their passengers rush to the safety of the embassy. As an aide came out to collect her people, she stopped to talk to the Jade officer before they all began making their way back into the building. Padov hummed to himself in thought, the disruptive rookie from the rear of the vehicle coming up behind him.
"What was that?"
"Not a weapon, I'll tell you that. It sounded like a crash."
The rookie stood blank-eyed at the lieutenant for a moment in response to the comment, looking down at the latter's shoulder patches; former Atmospheric Arms.
"I guess you're familiar?" He asked, his superior nodding slowly as he moved to follow the Aide and Takenaka despite not being explicitly invited.
Takenaka nodded to Sergeant Calico, glad to see the Union military present even if it was just the one sergeant for now. He watched as the civilians streamed inside the building, including Yoshida who headed upstairs to meet Khamir and Alak, and the wizened Shefu, who was already peering around looking for a kitchen to start cooking something up.
Takenaka turned to stare back east, the way they had come, noting the column of smoke in the distance where, unknown to him, the helicopter had crashed down.
"There is one bus stayed behind. My marines and I are ready to go back out." he said matter-of-factly, his troops leaning on their spears behind him, their LAV unscathed except for scratched bodywork at the front where they had shunted the police cruisers out of the way.
INSIDE
Yoshida paused outside the office to compose himself, smoothing out his shirt and pants. In deference to practicality he had been wearing his day-to-day outfit, a loose cotton haori or a short-sleeved kimono in businesslike blue, over a white linen shirt with denim jeans and black shoes. Whilst marking him as an Ingenious, it was much more practical than the formal attire he was expected to wear on high profile state business.
Regretting his casual appearance, he entered the room and offered a shallow bow.
“And I’m well aware that not much can be done right now, but we need assistance here. Please just do whatever you can. I understand, goodbye”
The group were led up into the embassy itself by Calico as the voice of Khamir in his office became clear. Ambassador Alak was also sat at Khamirs desk who looked delighted as the entourage were brought into his office.
“Come in, thank creation you all made it. Arthur good to see you” He stood up and walked over, giving the Teliran staff member a hug before shaking Yoshidas hand and Padovs as thanks.
“I cant thank you enough for your help in getting them back home and safe. Did everything go ok?” It only took a brief moment for the details to be given to Khamir and Alak about the roadblocks and the loss of Bus 3. Khamir had sat back down behind his desk, an aide grabbing chairs from another room for Yoshida and Padov.
“Things are even worse than we thought then. We must do everything we can to find those on Bus three, and it appears the police are trying to actively hamstring us. If we cant get around easy then we are surely doomed to have bad encounters further when trying to bring more people in. I just got off the call with the Union diplomatic quarter of the government, they are going to try pressure the situation from outside but other than that I don’t think help is coming anytime soon. Is there any way we could try get our people back?” He asked. Arthur was quiet, still taking in the fact they had made it to relative safety.
"I am glad to be here, thank you for extending us your hospitality." replied Yoshida, and then listened as Khamir spoke, settling his weary bones down into a chair that was infinitely more comfortable than the Respite LAV had been.
"My marines are willing to head back into the city to attempt a rescue of those aboard the third bus." he said matter-of-factly, glancing out of a window to where the five soldiers were lounging by their vehicles, chattering and grabbing a bite to eat.
"The local authorities offered no reaction to our breakthrough at the checkpoint," Lyk responded as he entered the doorway. "I think they're trying to give the image of control, though it could be inferred as bait for bad press on our part. My staff aren't equipped with any reconnaissance equipment beyond the security systems in the embassy, but we can ask the private citizens if any of them brought recreational drones. That could give the second expedition a means to avoid more interruptions."
Alak leaned forward and stroked the fur on his cheek with his thumb, retrieving the phone on his opposite pocket to call Mere. "On it," He responded to the security lead, who turned to Yoshida.
"It was a whole bus. I'm willing to bring the limo with again, if you'll have us along."
“Absolutely anytime my boy” Khamir responded to Yoshida, placing a hand on his shoulder as he finally sat down in something comfy “I wont ask you to go back out again right away considering the complex situation with the police that you got into. You and your men need some rest” He sighed. Turning to Lyk as he gave more information on the situation.
“If they gave no reaction it could be or the other yes.” The small Holographic TV he had on his desk which had been on for the entire time muted now showed a helicopter crash on the frontline of the news. Khamir went to reply but quickly turned the volume up.
”With such a sudden and violent move from the rioters we simply do not know what to expect next…” The reporter went on, the footage from a building a block away showing the helicopter getting hit and falling out of the sky. But it was that underneath on the overpass that caught Khamirs attention, Arthur practically leapt at the hologram.
“That’s them! Good lord they are in the thick of it we have to help them somehow!” The footage cut of some of them running out of sight and Khamir sighed. Turning to Lyk again.
“Do whatever you can using local drones and any other intelligence gathering.” The response from Alak immediately jumping on the phone made him nod in approval.
“Have the limo and the vehicles ready on standby. As much as it pains me to say but if we sent out our security vehicles again, we wont be able to immediately pin them down. They can’t sit tight out there, and with supposed weapons being used… We could lose you all. Stay ready, sit tight. The moment we have them we will let you know.” He looked back to the holo screen.
“Creation help them for now”
Yoshida nodded, opening his holo and sending a quick message to Takenaka. Outside, the sergeant flicked his thumb and index into an L-shape, the small light display winking to life to display the message. He nodded to his troops and all but one of them began settling in for a power nap, two on the benches in the bed of the Respite, one on the back row in the cab and Takenaka settling down behind a shrub outside the embassy.
The remaining marine climbed into the cab, popping the roof hatch open and settling down to survey the street, removing her mempo faceplate and taking sips from a canteen.
Inside, Yoshida also examined Khamir's holoscreen. The situation was not promising.
"What is the end game here, Khamir?" he asked, genuinely curious. His instinct would be to just up and leave the planet entirely the moment a ship could be secured, but Ingen was nowhere near as invested in Natar as the Union was. The planet seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket, but he would not be surprised if the Union wanted to stay and try to salvage the situation. Perhaps they did not even have a choice; he had no idea how much they had invested in the university here.
Khamir sighed as he moved to look back out of the window, tearing his gaze from the unfolding chaos on the holo screen. He placed his hands on the window ledge and looked out across the city, at the glowing fires in the distance and narrowed his gaze.
"I honestly dont know my friend. This chaos is only just starting, I have informed the Union proper but help is a long way away. The most we can do is sit tight, and the end game is hopefully this blows over. But how much damage is done by the end of this..." He paused "Only time can tell"
General Overview
The days quickly began to unravel following the enactment of the Comprehensive Action Plan by the Kaban Authorities. The greater city of Kaban was effectively abandoned to the anarchy that was unfolding throughout its streets. Police helicopters became a non-existent sight with the revelation of the arms possessed by at least a portion of the revolutionaries; police cars were hardly more common with most of the remnants of Kaban authority now having concentrated itself at the city centre on the South Bank. Over the week, the news from beyond made it rapidly apparent that what was occurring in Kaban had triggered something greater through the Sasonish countryside. Old separatist guerrilla groups had reemerged from the exile, hiding or dissolution and returned to action; with them had risen much of the tribal countryside of Sasona.
What news was published from beyond the city limits of Kaban made three things very apparent: First, things were apparently immeasurably better off for non-revolutionaries inside Kaban than they were outside of the city. Two, the Tesfeld Military was effectively paralysed by this new patchwork of uprisings throughout the country. Three, almost every other city in the country was similarly in a state of rebellion.
Stories began to spread of the situation amid the infamous fog of the marshy tribalistic rural landscape of Sasona. Of Sasonish Tykemen wiping out convoys, both military and civilian, trying to supply or reinforce cities throughout the land, of evacuating foreigners being dragged off into the mists of the marshes without a trace. Terrifying images of Tykemen in their roughspun apparel began to circulate through the media as President Monatt’s government desperately worked to downplay the anarchy of the situation and urged the public to remain in their homes.
It was by day four of the riots that, like a physical manifestation of the collapse of order in the city, the fog rolled in. Coming from the hinterlands, ‘fogstorms’ as they were dubbed were nothing new to Kaban, but the onset of one couldn’t come at a less convenient time. For delegates on both sides of the banks of the Kaban river they now became isolated visually as well as physically; unable to see the situation on the other side. With the collapse of reliable media channels and contradictory accounts over social media platforms, the fog represented the now total collapse of trustworthy information on the situation or the ability to even see the situation at hand beyond what one could confirm ten meters ahead of themselves.
The Kaban authorities continued to assure the ambassadors of the legations that everything was in order, even as the anarchy flooded through the city almost as quickly as the fog had. The only thing that had stifled its rapid approach towards the missions at ‘Envoy Avenue’ had been the rise of the Tesfeld Battalions. These loyalist paramilitary groups were the small Tesfeld minority living in the city, along with foreigners from offworld and those at risk of being accused of collaboration.
While these battalions stalled the expansion of the anarchy, their use of force to repulse the crowds had pacened a new development in the riots. It seemed like the frequency of muffled, distant gunshots was rising by the night. Decades-old separatist guerrilla groups had already penetrated the city and had begun both distributing arms among the most impassioned of the rioting population and begun forming basic units from the masses. No longer were the crowds returning to their homes and back to the riots at their discretion. The “Kabanite Liberation Front for the Independence of Sasona” as the local organisers had officially dubbed it, more easily referred to as the KLF, had solidified this popular uprising to stay until forcefully dismantled.
This new force became indicated by a simple head accessory to which the new nickname for the rioters had emerged: “The Brown Bandanas”. Easy to distribute but easily identifiable, the rebelling masses had never acquired a rudimentary sense of uniformity, of group identity, and common responsibility as a collective. They were organising.
Every night the diplomats were serenaded by the city with a chorus of bumbling gunfire, the rumbles of explosions and the wail of broken police sirens. Where once one standing at the embassies could survey the glistening lights of the urban sprawl as they shimmered upon the reflective river surface, now the fog left one with the silhouettes of shadowy buildings as they projected through the fog at day and in complete darkness at night.
Few buildings had their lights on any more, not that many buildings could be seen any way. The only exceptions were the highrises from the corporate block of Kaban. These looming towers to the East of Envoy Avenue continued to be lit up well into the week despite their encirclement to the anarchy. These towering citadels, looming high over the mist with the lights from their windows, alongside their electronic advertisement and brand screens, continued to shine over the city like beacons of some continued semblance of normalcy and a sign that the embassies weren’t alone out there amid this chaos.
Apparently, the companies owning the skyscrapers were on no better terms with Kaban general public than the foreign delegations. Having mobilised their own private security and pooled their strength, the corporate block seemingly weren’t just able to defend their own property, but claimed to have seized surrounding city streets and buildings under their security following their abandonment by local authorities. Similarly, the neighbouring Orillian embassy, while openly supportive of the rebels, reported itself as having secured nearby properties for their protection. Things were falling apart with the police gone, and now the independent groups and factions were scrambling to consolidate their surroundings.
Bishop Clement had been far from silent during this time. The elderly Berlun that had faced off the hot-headed Capitolite’s at Chrysaor Castle and met with the Royal Federationists at their legations had throughout the escalation held multiple rallies. First, at the Terefa Rallying Grounds, then at Kaleki park, the Bishop had emphasised the importance of conscience during this turbulent period of change. To hundreds of thousands of screaming supporters, the Bishop had become a newfound and moderating figure that supplanted their late leader, Roma Efiki.
Clement’s message, his own alien background and his respected community position had helped immeasurably to control the xenophobic aspects of the revolution, but this did not mean this was any less of a revolution; one which still rejected the privilege and powers possessed by the colonial embassies within their city. Clement was once more holding another rally, this time at Kilefa Park to rally the masses to the cause of independence and the fight against Kalethian hegemony; it was so far reportedly going as well as ever and the usual rhetoric was being used of focusing on the Kalethian hegemony; not on the ‘Alien Strawman’.
Unknown (Ophenia’s Troupe)
Deep into the depths of the city’s buildings, Ophenia and her group had been holed up in an unsuspecting apartment block 5 stories above ground level. There they had been holed up for the past few days. The shopkeeper who had let them into his shop had brought them here. An older gentleman by the name of Oyle, the Teliran had insisted on keeping the troupe hidden at his home as Tranch and other members of the party recovered from their injuries.
Providing them with food and drink, Oyle and his wife, Salinea, had kept the group in good spirits and company but insisted on keeping their communications on the down-low. Apart from an exception to call in to the Union embassy during their journey to his apartment to let them know Ophenia and her group were okay, Oyle was quite insistent on radio silence. ‘The national cause’, he claimed, ‘runs deeper than the common man’ and warned that he would not be surprised if any Teliran workers for any of the colonial embassies were sympathetic to the revolutionary cause.
Despite his friendly and evident protectiveness of the group from the occasional passing mob of Brown Bandanas outside, the old man gave off a secretive impression, like there was more to him than what meets the eye. Always insisting that the group stay in the living room and kitchen; never going into his study or other such rooms. Salinea seemed equally cautious with the group, like she was always trying to keep up a better impression than she ought. Sitting down with Ophenia at the dinner table of the crowded kitchen and passing a steam hot cup of tea, she looked to the red dusk sun that radiated through the thick mist outside the window and down the street; listening to a muffled explosion from somewhere far away.
“...This city is falling apart, my dear…” The old lady lamented, “...It’s not safe out there. Not yet.” She muttered as Oyle came shuffling in from outside, struggling with two carrier bags full of provisions. The old Teliran grunted as he bent his joints to place the bags down,
“...What’s new?” He mumbled through his stifled breath.
Envoy Avenue (Union, Jade, Carnaith)
Much had changed since the University Convoy had united with the embassies along the Tanais River. With the all out route of the police, the embassies had effectively been left to free reign over the surrounding streets and neighbourhoods if they felt like expanding their hold. The increasingly loud clamour of gunshots, jeering and explosions, however, made it abundantly clever that the watch was ticking for such endeavours. The last protest out on the road before the buildings was days ago. Gone were jeering demonstrators, the occasional automobile or businessman passing by. Now the street outside was completely deserted except for the occasional rustling newspaper shuffling along in the breeze. It was very apparent that this silence and lack of activity outside was no longer due to the rioters being so far away, but rather the opposite. The only activity now was the sight of a rare gunman or two rushing down across the ends of the roads to back up some nearby Tesfeld paramilitary or Sasonish separatist group in their skirmishing.
The messages from Mr. Kalmine during these days had become recognizably fewer. For a while, Kalmine’s messages seemed to get more paranoid and exaggerated. It was evident from pictures and reports that the masses near his home were getting fewer and the threat had since passed. It got so bad that Kalmine at one point even reported a silhouette carrying a bomb in the night, fearing for his life, before he realised that it was the figure of an old lady carrying some groceries. Subsequent reports and claims to the embassies from then on became less and less seriously taken as it was becoming clearer that the rioters had passed. Still, he sent through yet another message to the Union delegation asking for a convoy to evacuate him from his apartment due to security concerns.
What had before been an onslaught of queries, concerns and requests to the embassy staff from expatriates and their ilk days before was now mostly radio-silence for the administrations. Most foreign citizens from the Union, Carnaith, Jade and any of their associated client states were now residing within the embassy premises. Now the concern has turned to logistics. These embassies were exactly that, embassies, not stockpiles. They had not exactly been built for self-sufficiency, let alone with the additional weight of hundreds of new occupants seeking accommodation and supplies for who-knew how long. If operations for making room to give adequate shelter for these occupants, finding supplies to sustain being surrounded, or preparations to defend the embassies or their surrounding areas were to be initiated, now would be the time.
Royal Federation & High Imperium Legations
The legation quarters along the South Bank were as lucky as ever in their situation compared to their peers. Located close to the government centre, President Monatt’s holdout, the legations sat in the zone where the Kaban authorities had concentrated what reliable forces they had left. But even here the situation was destabilizing.
News from across the fog-covered river indicated that the North bank rebels had now turned from frenzied rabble into organised bands of militias, but on the distant eastern areas of the South Bank things were similarly falling apart. Where once there had been localized, dispersed protests, now there were snowballing mobs of jeering crowds reminiscent of scenes from the North Bank days before. Tear gas occasionally came hailing down through the confused hordes in the thick Sasonish mist which quickly dispersed the rioters. But the situation would only resume within that same hour once more, for now however, the struggles were still far from the legations.
Inside the High Imperium legation, signs of hostility were beginning to pop up. Mostly limited in scale for the time being, the crowds of demonstrators began almost spontaneously. Bricks were thrown at shop windows as the situation rapidly began escalating within the legation in the span of a single hour. It made it harder to notice these groups forming due to the pea-soup fog that formed a visual wall through the area. These rioters were in High Imperium judicial territory, and it was up to them on how to respond to this instability.
The Royal Federation had meanwhile been more fortunate. An influential man like Bishop Clement had left his meeting with the Federation on good terms and had made it quite clear that the Royal Federation was to some degree willing to work with the moderates of the cause, and this had detracted the focus of the anti-colonial violence away from them and towards groups like the High Imperium.
It also helped that the police had redirected much of their strength on the outskirts around the legations to protect the streets surrounding the Royal Federation’s territories and less so those surrounding the High Imperium’s concession. This came to few people’s surprise however, considering the High Imperium’s decision to insult President Monatt and to refuse to cooperate with Adjutant Salierto in his ambitions to curtail both the power of the rioters and the Royal Federation in Kaban.
It was, however, within the Royal Federation Legation that a warehouse was uncovered to be hosting several crates of rifles during a routine inspection. While the Teliran warehouse owner, a Mr. Karata, insisted on being unaware of how these crates arrived in his storage building or what their purpose was, it was quickly becoming apparent that while the Federation legation may not be turning into a hotspot for violence during this riot, it was starting to be used as a stable location to provide logistical supplies for these rebels.
If these crates were found from a mere routine inspection, the question was now to be asked: What other sinister underlying forces skulked the underside of the legation community? It was rapidly becoming a very real possibility that, with their effective independence and extraterritoriality, the Federation legation was being used as an untouchable base of operations for the backbone to the riots.
Talesa Square Capitol Building (Zeister)
When Zeister had agreed to join Superintendent Kmara in withdrawing to the government headquarters at Talesa Square, he had been enticed on the assumption and premise of assisting in a swift crackdown to the rebellion by a cold and determined government. But even the car ride there indicated this was doomed never to be the case when Zeister got into the car to be met with the sight of a frightened young woman sitting in the seat beside Kmara. While Kmara insisted that he was merely keeping her under his protection, it was very clearly a more sinister circumstance than a kind hearted guardianship.
The moment Zeister reached the Capitol building, the Capitolite had been shoved into an unkempt second-floor office with his only daily interaction being a receptionist bringing in a paper cup of water and a clingfilmed sandwich. There Zeister was tasked for three days with typing endless responses to media outlets on how the government was effectively planning decisive and effective crackdowns on the riots. Any efforts to leave Talesa Square on his daily walk were halted by armed police and the Kommandant was expected to sleep on the couch in his workspace, which he was locked in overnight with a guard posted by the door. Zeister was left without fresh clothes, nor the option of washing. While Kmara endlessly insisted that this pointless routine was a necessity to build up international support prior to their joint effort to destroy the riot, it was becoming abundantly clear that Zeister was under an unofficial house arrest and in isolation from his community.
It was only on day three that something different occurred. During the late hours of dusk, just before his daily shift by the Kaban government was coming about, the muffled shouting of two men rapidly approached Zeister’s door. Very soon the sound of the office door unlocking came through and the figure of Kmara strutted in behind the stumbling rush of none other than President Monatt. His greased, unwashed hair, crows feat, bagged eyes and grim look was a firm contrast to his stubborn speeches days prior.
“President Monatt, this is most-” Kmara tried to insist before being interrupted.
“-There he is.” The middle-aged politician grunted with an almost crazed grin, “...I have a job for you!”
Chrysaor Castle (Capitol)
In the absence of Zeister amid his evacuation with Kmara, the Capitolite community that had become dubbed ‘Chrysaor Castle’ had since become entirely surrounded. Where there were once disorganised crowds that seemed almost enjoyable to shoot at and watch scatter in panic, there were now empty streets. But the occasional silhouette through the mist, standing atop rooftops overlooked the fortified community or from beside nearby walls, kept watch and confirmed that the rebels had far from moved on.
Through most of the day, there had been the usual quiet around Chrysaor. A consistent comfort for Trefeld, but the silence would break this day. Just as the sun began to descend, in the red glare of dawn, the first shots rang out. From through the mist several gunmen rushed to positions behind cars and from inside alleyways down the roads of the South-West roads through Chrysaor. Some were armed with cheap assault rifles, others with hunting rifles and shotguns, but more quickly began to follow from through the thickness of the fog.
Very soon a hail of bullets was falling upon the Capitolite barricades and the guards standing upon it. Within several minutes, about five dozen Telirans had taken positions across the road and were spraying rounds of ammunition against the fortified walls as two Telirans began rushing towards the walls of the castle; carrying some kind of box to place infront of the face of the wall.
ENVOY AVENUE
Things were uncomfortable, to say the least. There had only been a handful of other subjects of the Jade Empire present on Natar, a couple of businessfolk, a freighter hand who had been hospitalised in a bar fight and recuperating at a local clinic, and a quality control inspector who had used the trip as an excuse to bring his wife on what he had incorrectly told her would be a nice, relaxing break.
With all the other people present, though, things were crowded to say the least. Not only that, but they only had so much food, water and other supplies, and many people were sleeping on couches, blankets on the floor and more.
Rumour had it that the ACN were on their way to restore order, but with no guarantees as to how long that could take Sergeant Takenaka had been pressuring Yoshida to take more decisive action.
Finally he relented. The Sergeant, rather than seem pleased, simply issued a barely-acceptable grunt of acknowledgement, annoyed it had taken this long, then turned on his heel and left.
Ordering one marine to stay behind and watch the compound with the others, he led three of his soldiers east, towards the towering lights of the CBZ. Although they would get nowhere near them, he figured it best to expand that way rather than away west.
His initial objective was to search some of the further buildings for stocks of anything useful - once they had marked a location, they'd get Kato to bring up the Respite and load it up, roll back to the embassy block and get some civilians to haul it into the basement under the watchful eye of Union and other guards.
Once that was done, he planned to recce what looked like a restaurant next door to the Union embassy. If possible, he wanted to take it over and use it as living space for the Ingenious, freeing up room in the main building and giving his people breathing space. But first things first.
The fog rolled in as they strolled east down Envoy Avenue, keeping an eye out for loot and threats...
Khamir strode down the hallway, nodding to numerous people as he went. Unioners, Carnaithians and a few Ingenious all sat or laid in rooms which had been for embassy operations, now they were bedrooms for too many. Still the ambassador acted like a reassuring sight, informing people that indeed help was coming, that direct calls had been made to the Union and Carnaith and working with Alak to generally keep things calm.
They had fortified the embassy grounds as much as possible, piling up rubble, reinforcing doors, windows and any other points with furniture and objects which could in a moments notice be moved in to help hold the line. It was a sorry situation, and Khamir was distraught that it had come to this. At least the individuals of Bus 3 were safe for now, that had been a huge weight of Khamirs shoulders. But still, things were tense, they didn’t have enough supplies for everyone and the constant threat of attack was wearing people out. The guards were on constant shifts, and everyone was getting exhausted.
Khamir found Calico at one of the windows staring out onto the fog shrouded main road in front of the embassy.
“Ambassador” His tone was tired.
“Sergeant. Any updates?” The man took a moment and shrugged.
“Jade boys have gone out to look for some food, I wished them luck and told them I would try do the same soon. We do need supplies; we will have to send out some boys to look soon” Khamir nodded coming to stand by the window.
“Indeed, I won’t argue with that logic. We can defend all day but it wont matter if we starve. Send a few out, I think the local large shopping area is a good start if it isn’t already looted to high heaven” Calico smiled.
“I was thinking you would fight me on the idea of sending troops away” Khamir waved his hand.
“3 days ago, maybe, not now though. Given the coffee ran out I would do anything to secure some supplies, you have full reign over the mission I leave it in your hands” With the order given Calcio wasted no time in rounding up three guards and tasking them with supply gathering. Strapping every bag they could to them the team quietly left the embassy and made their way towards the shopping stretch.
The meager matter that Alak had managed to overdose on this tea was monument to the situation the foreign delegations on the north bank were dealing with. He shakily paced up and down the office hallway, a lone guard leaning on the balcony towards the front, and a white noise of calm, if worried chatter emanated from below. He liked to liken it to a food chain; apex predators in nature culminated the most toxic substances in their bodies. The issue with the analogy is that he didn't fit quite neatly into this; he wasn't cut out for this situation like Khamir seemed to be. Or even Lizaki, for what it was worth. It was like transplanting a predator from not just the wrong environment but the wrong planet.
The echoing, firm steps of Lizaki's loafers made their way up the staircase behind Vitiri. He realized he had been tracing the spiderweb of cracks in his office window from outside the room as he mulled on the situation and nursed a jug of water in an attempt to detoxify. He unsteadily lifted it again, taking a sip from the half-empty vessel and turned to face the stairs as the building director's disappointed gaze met his own.
"I told you you were relying too much on that stuff," the arrival called out, half-startling the guard, who calmly collected himself and his equipment and meandered out of view towards the skybridge to the Union complex. Alak massaged his ear - a startlingly unfamiliar structure to diplomatic visitor's children who expected Carnaithians to just be big dogs and asked to pet them accordingly.
"No response?" his lieutenant asked as he walked into comfortable conversation distance. The diplomat had dispatched an aide to distribute the remaining tea packets to stressed parents who obviously needed it more than he did.
"N-no, Mere, you know I'm not much at apologies."
"Not to your peers," the other responded, a scowl forming on his face.
The comment was like a dagger to the diplomat, who had been delegating far too much for his status and stepping beside himself somewhat. He took another sip from the jug in his hands, splashing a bit between the irksome comment, the stress, and the oversaturated compounds in his blood.
"You seem to do it well enough with foreign dignitaries who can't care to concern themselves with their own people much less little old us in diplomat's row," Lizaki pressed fluently. The latter had been busy enough that his chin fur had grown out to the beginnings of a sort of goatee, but he kept himself groomed and presentable for the families and citizens below. Vitiri, on the other hand, was drinking from a supply jug and had doffed his dignitary decorum and accessories alike. Alak really had an appreciation for Lizaki's ability to demolish coping thought processes to execute what needed to be done among the building staff - with how long the two had been working together, it worked just as well against the man's superior.
"You're right." Alak responded, surprisingly clearly. Mere's scowl transformed to a smirk.
"Clean yourself up, I'll get you some coffee from next door. You need to be down there with your charges. Especially with so many going out to retrieve supplies from their shops," Lizaki chided as he started for the skybridge, even as the diplomat coughed and sputtered.
"Wha- What? What do you mean?" he half-shouted, taking care not to be audible downstairs as he briefly pursued.
"Well,"
Royal Federation Legation Quarter
The news about the warehouse and the findings of the inspection had shook Analise from the moment she heard it, She never thought something like this could happen and it only meant more stress on the already heavily burdened Embassy Staff. She made a call to Corps using what channels were still available although now they would need to begin encrypting their connection.
"Madame Corps, about that news of the find in the warehouse-" Analise was cut off
"Its a good opportunity, my dear. The Imperium have a bad reputation as far as it goes for native treatment. The local government and the moderates are both protecting the Legation and we can't appease both sides forever. Someone is going to go looking for blood and I'd much rather it be Imperium blood then our own." Corps said happily.
"I'm not sure what you are implying Madame" Analise responded curiously
"You are going to launch a private investigation using yourself and a contractor who got caught up in the city on another assignment. I'll send you detailed instructions, but play this right and the Imperium will be the one under the pump and things will hopefully go our way." Corp replied
"Madame, what about the moderates? Bishop Clement is actively helping us, his continued support would also go a long way in keeping everyone safe and supporting him will help our power base in this region if his revolution is successful." Analise added
"Very well, send the bishop an offer of formal Federation security to help protect him and then send some of the local police forces undercover to act as extra security anyways. We don't want an ill fate to befall him." Corp remarked.
"Yes, madame. It'll be done." Analise said before Corp terminated the connection.
A moment later the instructions came through and Analise analysed them in detail. Her first step was acquiring the help of a local contractor that the Federation had planetside to investigate private matters for the embassy staff, a physical person to do the leg work of the AIs. This was a man by the name of Samuel Corbin, a private investigator employed by the Federation for finding out more information then what could be collected from the net and a much more deniable asset then trying to hack into personal social media accounts or security cameras. Samuel was stuck in the city was currently spending his time drinking in one of the bars inside the Legation Quarter. Unfortunately for him he had found himself in some trouble with some local protesters, throwing some drunken words at them. A pair of Federations walked up to the ordeal and politely asked them to move and told them, they would handle him back at the Embassy.
"I didn't need your help, i had them right where i wanted them." Samuel shouted at the soldiers.
"If them kicking the shit out you was all part of your plan, I'll get them back here and let this play out." One of the soldiers replied
"N-no, its fine. They've lost interest anyways." Samuel said sitting up on the ground. The soldier offered him a hand and pulled him up to his feet.
"The Ambassador wants to meet with you."
"What about?"
"Above my pay grade, come on we'll give you a lift."
A short time later Samuel found himself in the Ambassadors office. He took a moment to walk around the large room and examine the decorations. He wasn't a fool and new that one of these fancy decorations was a cover for the bar. AIs might not have a need to drink but organic guests did. He noticed one of the paintings depicting a scene from the revolution had subtle scratch marks on it. He lifted it up and it was a small door that retracted into the wall and a small bar protruded.
"Help yourself Mr Corbin." Analise said manifesting her avatar leaning on the wall next to the bar.
Samuel jumped back in surprise.
"Jesus lady, you scared the fu-" He stopped himself from continuing his sentence and cleared his throat and straightened his tie.
"Forgive me ambassador, i was merely admiring the painting and noticed something off-"
"Your reputation precedes you Mr Corbin, please don't try to lie to me. I however need you to do some lying" Analise disappeared and reappeared at her desk.
"Have a seat we have a lot to discuss."
Analise went over the plan with Samuel detailing what he had to do and who he had to investigate. His whole investigation was pretty much done and he was just an actor in it all. The briefing was all done verbally and he would have to remember everything as he couldn't take notes or have nay physical evidence about the conversation that just happened. After it was all over he went to the warehouse where the crate of guns was found. Legation police were still checking the area and were making ready to check the warehouse, they took over the job to spare the local police of having to send any manpower towards the investigation, they were however still completely transparent with them. Samuel's first target was the warehouse owner Mr. Karata. He went to his office and knocked on the door.
"Mr Karata, I'm Samuel Corbin a detective with the Legation Police Force. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Do you mind if i come in?" He shouted politely through the door.
Ophenias Troupe
The group had been fed and sheltered, and despite the situation Ophenia was thankful for that. It had been a long 5 days, several of them sitting up awake at night looking out the window at the orange glow above the city, only for that to be taken away from them when the fog rolled in. They had been given whatever comfortable blankets and materials they could and rested on whatever floor space was available. It wasn’t great, but it was better than being lynched.
Still while they had managed to contact the embassy and confirm they were still alive Ophenia and one of the students were uncomfortable with Oyle, having been whispering to each other at night. The student thought the man was a co-ordinator of the rioters or militia, only that he was moderate when it came to aliens. Whatever the cause it had them both on edge a lot of the time, nobody else from the group had talked about any grievances, but then it was hard to when confined to two rooms, they couldn’t get away from their hosts.
She was just thinking about how they could even attempt to get the embassy when she Salinea passed her some tea, Ophenia had not slept well on the floor and smiled.
“Thank you. And I know, maybe soon hm?” She and others turned to Oyle with the provisions.
“Here let me help” One of the students went to aid him as did a couple faculty.
“Nothing new it seems, another explosion, another day”
Talesa Square Capitol building
Zeister wrapped his knuckles on his desk, he was sat half upright bored out of his mind and unable to sleep. He had been betrayed by coming here and no doubt his own people were under attack by the Teliran scum. For the first day or two he had worked hard, doing whatever was given to him and not asking questions. Drilled into him from military school he had taken in the environment and made do, but nearly a week later and that was gone. He knew he was being kept here and used, and he knew the whole ploy had been nothing but a trick. His work ethic had slackened majorly, and he had stood behind the door demanding to see Kmara or at least be given access to wash facilities. He had spent yesterday trying to find a way out, but two small vents gave him little in the way of access.
The tune he knocked onto the desk had been the same tune that had heralded Herakles death, and he was only interrupted when the noises outside the door came. He bolted upright and stood up just as President Monatt and Kmara came in through the door. Zeisters face turned to a frown as Monatt addressed him with a job.
“You promised me a way to help, and I have been locked in this damn room for nearly a week! Do not lie to me again that this is another job where I can somehow help save the city. You haven’t given me an ability to wash or clean myself up and have treated me like a prisoner!” Zeister was clearly very angry.
Chrysaor Castle
The guards had been on station constantly throughout the days, catching what little sleep they could in between rotations as Telirans and threats scampered their way across rooftops and streets. Trefeld had done what he could to reinforce the community, even going so far as to give many of the families sharp cooking utensils to defend themselves at the last minute should all go south.
He had managed to hear that the help Zeister had ordered many days ago was coming, but it would still be at least a week, and no doubt would have to contend with the issues that were plaguing the city surroundings if rumour and news were anything to go by. Trefeld was young, he had never really got to take in Capitol properly before his parents had fled to Natar. He had been brought up in a military quarter along with many Capitol expats and had been taught by Zeister closely eventually rising through the ranks. He hadn’t even heard from Zeister so far, it made him worried, his mentor was many things but he never abandoned his people. Trefeld was broken out of his daily thinking by the burst of gunfire. Making his way to the line it was clear.
They were under attack.
“Man your posts! Everyone to the lines!” He shouted, bullets came in striking the now quite large barricades which they had made out of scrap and detritus. Plinks of bullets and the occasional cry of a Teliran as the Capitol soldiers fired back turned the otherwise quiet of the day into a sudden storm. Trefeld shouted out though as the Telirans carrying a box tried to rush forward. He called for fire on them as the Themis which had been parked on the street turned its HMG towards them, firing off a long burst to gun them down.
The Shopping Stretch
Aphkaral's deep whistling sounded almost instead like humming, permeating the Carnaithian general goods store. Luckily, the rash of xenophobia had left stock vandalized instead of looted, and the damage wasn't so widespread as to make this a worthless trip - the shop hadn't been razed by virtue of being the bottom floor of an affordable housing block, though most of the inhabitants who would care about the Tunora coming back to his store were out protesting or skirmishing. He was accompanied by a few Carnaithians and a human citizen of the empire, and the five of them were busy stuffing duffel bags with freeze-dried cattle-spider legs, water jugs, and EZ-boil grains alike. "Don't grab snacks," He had told his partners. "We need to feed people. Needs first."
"Aph, I'm not trying to be a flea, but your whistling carries a ways," The human of the group said, crouched and braced against the counter - facing the only non-emergency door, semi-automatic sporting rifle in hand.
The hulking form of the Tunora sighed and looked up and down the fairly short aisle before looking back to the bag at his feet. "You are right, I am sorry. We're almost done with this trip," Aphkaral responded, zipping the bag with his comically-oversized hands and effortlessly lifting two hundred pounds of provisions on his own, slinging the bags under his arm and brandishing an admittedly-illegal stacked munitions PDW that the consulate had chastised him for bringing but never acted on. The three Carnaithians had been done for a while, each specializing in a particular set of goods when they came, and now the three reminisced at the ads that lined the top of the walls, even as they were spray-painted or torn from their mounts.
"Come, we should leave before anyone decides to investigate," The shopkeep echoed through the room, silent but for the party's steps in the common space. The others, but one, quieted down and converged on the door, slowly peeking out.
Aphtaral took the lead, exiting the building and turning left - northeast - to get back to the consulate. It wasn't far, and he heard the footfalls of his compatriots and the creaking of rifle slings follow behind. Visibility was awful, even with urban infrastructure, damaged as it was. Silhouettes were a semi-common sight in the lights around Envoy Avenue, but most were solo and didn't bother the group. Now, though, a trio stood adamant at the corner at the far edge of what Aphtaral could see. They weren't large, and they were silent, but they did hold something.
"Stop!" One shouted... unconfident, feminine or young. A muzzle raised to Aphtaral's right, and he shook his head - it lowered an inch in response. They kept walking.
"Stop!" It came again, the lead form assuming a rear-leaning, hip-firing position emulating an action hero. Aphtaral raised his chin and kept marching. They would miss or they would run.
"I said stop!" they shakily yelled again in a sasonish accent, backing up nervously. Before Aphtaral could get close enough to make out a face, a woman's desparate cries could be heard in the distance, speaking native tongue that grabbed the attention of the small silhouettes, who tore their attention from the Imperials and muttered before turning to run, the one at the front tripping and dropping his weapon as he sprinted into the fog towards the yelling that repeated and was continued with terrified sobs.
"What'd you know?" One of the Carnaithians cautiously asked from behind as the group approached the dropped item.
"What I teach," The Tunora responded, showing the palm of his left hand to those behind, revealing a military brand from his homeworld. At their feet lay a toy gun - ironically, mimicking the model of rifle that appeared so frequently on 2AW newsreels that featured COE forces.
Now, however, the noise of an engine and points of light approached from the embassies to the left... very quickly, the very clear visage of Jade marines freed themselves from the fog, the silhouette of that strongly-welcomed Respite accompanying.
"We're in deep shit now, though, aren't we?"
High Imperium Legation Quarter
A soft knock at the door had Gaivran glancing up, followed by an irritated "What?" An aide opened the door and cleared her throat.
"Heiros Meltar here to see you, sir."
The ambassador sighed. "And he couldn't make an appointment why?"
"That's the thing. He did make an appointment. Three days ago."
Gaivran blinked at the aide before pulling up his calendar. Damned if it wasn't there, staring him in the face, blinking a soft green. "Send him in then, I suppose."
The Heiros stepped inside and sketched a curt bow, while Gaivran found himself involuntarily grinding his teeth at the implied disrespect. "How can I assist you?"
Meltar hesitated a moment before taking a breath. "Sir, it's come to my attention that we're experiencing increased issues with...demonstrators. I also understand that we are currently lacking in governmental support due to your dismissal of a request from the ASN?"
That impudent little - Grimacing, he reined himself in. "I fail to see how that is a concern."
The other man's look was blatantly condescending. "I was entrusted with the security of this legation. I can't maintain that security if your every action sabotages my options."
Gaivran snarled at him. "You dare! This is my embassy, and you dare come in here and tell me how to manage a crisis!"
A roll of the eyes. "That's exactly what I'm doing. And it won't be your embassy for very much longer after Lady Eroth offers the Stadtholder your head in apology. Much less the damage done to the cause of your fellows back home. In fact, to prevent further such damage, and to uphold my task as delivered by High Command, this embassy and the surronding quarter are now under martial law."
The diplomat simply stared at the Heiros as the door opened and other soldiers entered the room. "You-you can't do this."
"I think you'll find that I can. Gaivran Arlos, you are hereby suspended from your position as emissary to the Kalethian Republic. You will be detained in the lower levels until the current crisis is over, and then presuming Mr. Tetlisun does not wish to accept your head, you will be sent back to Zaoth to stand trial for gross incompetence."
As the soldiers dragged the still uncomprehending Gaivran away, Meltar went over to the desk and entered in an override code he'd been given prior to this posting. Then he turned off the stasis cells in the base of the embassy tower. He had the military support, and now it was time to restore order. After issuing various commands, he pulled up another window and sent a short message describing the 'coup' and his actions. There was no response and he closed the connection. Now to keep things running until help arrived.
---
The effects of the change in leadership were immediate. With martial law in effect, stores were closed to prevent looting and damage, and citizens were forced off the streets, with some held in makeshift detainment areas for a cooling off period, but most sent back to their homes. At one such rally, as people gathered by the hundreds around a man with a loudspeaker railing about the crimes of the Imperium, a sudden hush began to fall.
And then the crowd parted, people scurrying back as tall figures in segmented armor and crested helms pushed their way through to the speaker. One of them spoke up, broadcasting his voice for all to hear. "These conditions are unsafe. By the decree of Heiros Meltar Envirous, please disperse and return to your homes."
General
Through Kaban’s chaos, the international community on Natar had not been silent. For days now, the ASN had been engaged in heated discussions over numerous ongoing geopolitical situations across the planet, the situation in Sasona was among them. It was still unclear what the stance of the Executive Assembly was on the Kaban situation, or what it was going to do.
This lack of clarity appeared to be finally coming to a close when the embassy’s finally were updated from the outside. Stadtholder Tetlisun of the ASN, in a typical fashion to this style, had abruptly announced an emergency conference with delegates for each power involved in Kaban within 15 minutes of receiving the update. There would be no provision or exception for ambassadors or delegates who were busy with other affairs, it was quite simply a case of being there, or being square.
15 minutes on the dot, the meeting call was established. Contrasting to the chaotically arranged setup for President Monatt over a week ago, the representatives were to be met by the sight of the Stadtholder’s office. An ornate room lined with ancient artwork and busts of past Administrators. At the well-polished table that the call focused on, was the all-too-familiar sight of Stadtholder Mose Tetlisun, the head of the ASN.
The Teliran leader seemed noticeably emotionless, the bags under his eyes either implying tiredness or advancing age, or both. With his forming a steepled gesture as he coldly greeted the callers as the conference commenced,
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is good to see you all here. I have opted to initiate this emergency meeting to discuss the ongoing situation in Kaban; to inform you of the ASN’s current position and our plans going forward.” He paused,
“Firstly, know that you are not alone, in more ways than one. The entirety of the ASN stands with you right now, and we fully plan on arranging a rescue at the best opportunity. But also know you are not alone as the only place in Sasona currently in chaos, indeed, the entire country has become a high-threat area and we may be witnessing a new nation gaining independence if we do not tread carefully.”
“I am currently battling in the assembly to prepare an expedition to Sasona to begin breaking through to Kaban to evacuate you and your denizens.” The Stadtholder assured, “But this will take time.”
Ophenia’s Troupe
As Oyle unloaded his bags, quietly thanking the students for their aid, the Teliran began to mutter.
“Them’s bandana folks are starting to organise out on those streets… Won’t be long before they begin coordinatin’ apartment searches… Lookin’ for collaborators and that sort…”
The old man didn’t seem to think too much about it, nor seem concerned, but Salinea was much more so. She turned her gaze to Ophenia,
“I’ve been hearing stories from out there… People are reporting their neighbours… There’s horrible stuff I don’t like to think about, dear… We need to start planning what to do with your folks… If they pick up the scent to hear, well…” She smiled a little in a half-hearted chuckle, “I don’t think we’ll last long.”
Royal Federation Legation
Amid the escalating situation across Kaban, the offer by the Federation to provide help to Clement had been accepted, though conditionally. The bishop made it abundantly clear that, on no uncertain terms, any protection the Federation wished to offer had to be disguised and concealed. A clear colonial presence at an event trying to reconcile the movement with the colonials, he argued, would quickly discredit anything he had to say to the radicals.
The situation, meanwhile, out in the Legation streets were rather unchanged: Business as usual, if the occasional split lip or bruised face could be now considered the usual. Across these once affluent and busy streets, clutter was beginning to accumulate with the loss of consistent waste removal. On the city corners one might see the odd Teliran or two squatting and recovering from light injuries or trying to calm down after attending some of the more violent scenes several streets away.
It was at the warehouse that the Federation was now investigating that the most headway was being made in terms of action by the legation. This building preceded the Royal Federation legation, before the Telirans had entered space even. Filled with haulage crates and racks filled with random supplies, the place wasn’t large enough to get lost in, but certainly large enough to fill a few trucks up with goods. What one could call an office for this place was little more than an overlooking cabin to the warehouse that required a ladder to reach. Aside from what had already been reported, the warehouse was found to be in possession of numerous chemical agents, tear gas, narcotics and an unusually large stockpile of Prussian Blue paint.
Standing upon the metal overlook, Samuel’s request to enter was first met with silence, and then by a rather amused chuckle.
“No!” Came the reply, followed by yet more humoured laughing, “Of course, of course, come in detective...”
Entering the small office space, Samuel was met with the sight of a middle-aged Teliran. Mr. Karata, who seemed far from anxious, was casually perched up his chair behind a small industrial desk with his boots resting upon its surface. Smoking some kind of cigarette, the Teliran smiled and placed a bottle of Adalouse 3578 onto the table.
“I was waiting for you to turn up, detective… By all means ask anything you wish… Within reason of course.” The Teliran beamed. Karata donned a distinctly Human suit like something straight out of the 50’s as he drew out two glasses onto the table,
“...Can I offer you a drink?”
High Imperium Legation
The abrupt declaration of martial law within the Imperial Quarter did not have an initially pacifying effect among the locals. The moment that word had gotten out that the Imperial military had deposed any vision of civilian government prompted a frenzied mix of both anger and a perceived lapse of control over the legation. The crowds that swelled within the legation numbered the dozens to hundreds. Each was, however, slowly but surely dismantled by the legation authorities, with detentions and questioning always following. So far, no blood had been spilt.
It was the final gathering, with a Teliran having formed a particularly large crowd with a loudspeaker, that the situation became tense. Organising the masses with his speaker, the Sasonish citizen quickly began focusing the crowd's attention on the encroaching armoured units. As the crowds started massing against the units in a bid to force them back, a single shot rang out towards one of the units. Instantly the masses of Telirans scattered in panic as the assailant quickly joined them in rushing with the crowd down the street until the area was left empty once more.
While the Imperium’s legation slowly solidified its total military control over the streets, the demonstrations and protests merely began to form and swell at the edges of the legation’s jurisdiction. It was from these crowds that a single police car came forth, battered and crying out with its broken siren as it parked outside the legation embassy. From the car rose a Tesfeld official who quickly rushed into the legation building calling out,
“What in high heavens is going on down here? The capitol’s goin’ crazy as is, what’s this word of a military deposition?!” The pudgy, rapidly-approaching Teliran grunted to the receptionist.
Chrysaor Castle
The two Telirans lugging forward the crate quickly went down in clouds of red mist as they were peppered by small arms and the HMG alike. A few moments later, the box that fell to the floor exploded in a plume of hellfire; sending rubble and shrapnel bursting in all directions. The firing quickly petered out after the explosion as the assailants disappeared once more into the wall of fog.
Left behind were a handful of corpses and a couple writhing in pain from their wounds. The attack had been short, poorly-planned and half-hearted for the most part, but the sudden outbreak of it and its coordinated cessation indicated that things were becoming less confused beyond the fortifications.
It was only an hour or two later that from the mist came a booming voice. The echoing, electronic voice indicated a megaphone somewhere from beyond.
“Attention, Capitol. Lay down your guns and end your occupation of our homes. Leave now in good faith and we will allow you to leave to the North Bank Embassies! If you do not comply with our wishes then Kaban will be forced to launch an attack to take our neighborhoods by force! You have six hours to decide!” Once more the Capitolites were left to the silence of the fog.
The Shopping Stretch
The troupe that had encountered the Carnaithan expedition quickly rushed past the oncoming Respite and its Jade occupants. The Jade party so far had already received some trouble in securing their new headquarters. What looked like a restaurant was more of a greasy spoon on the inside, with the building still being occupied by a rather combative old gentleman who insisted that the Jade had come to take over Kaban, starting with his diner.
Now on their exploration they rolled up to the Carnaithan party, who were on the Shopping Stretch with similar intentions. Before either could properly interact, they were promptly interrupted by a clicking sound from above them. Atop from of the grand shopping buildings that skirted the riverside stood a teenage Teliran, clad in a scarf that hid half his face. The Teliran continued to take several images of the units on his phone before quickly disappearing behind the roofline and leaving the group in peace.
Besides the Carnaithan shop that had just been expedited, the shopping stretch was home to several major retail chains that had become something of a minor tourist attraction for the city. Their famous lights were now offline, leaving the stretch as a dull and lifeless facade, and their broken windows revealed many to have already been looted. One building on the row, however, juxtaposed the atrified state of its counterparts.
A large, proud building of venerable architecture stood higher than the rest on the stretch. Unlike the others, its name was still lit up in neon lettering, declaring its name: “Boxer’s”. With its lights still on, its windows untouched and with its goods still clearly on display, the shop seemed almost unnaturally untouched and open for business amid the detritus and chaos of the city’s chaos.
Through its windows, there were no visible occupants of the store’s main room, though the muffled beat of store music at least seemed to indicate that it wasn’t abandoned. From what one would tell, Boxer’s sold a smorgasbord of varying supplies, from food to gadgets and furniture: A veritable treasure trove for a looter. Yet it was all untouched, pristine even. Something was very strange about this place.
Envoy Avenue
Only one affair beyond the conference invitation by Stadtholder Tetlisun demanded the attention of those in charge at Envoy Avenue. It was not good news. Out of the blue, without prior escalation or warning, the staff at the Union Embassy received a single update from Kalmine. It was a message without words, just a single image.
The blurred, amateurish picture was distorted by motion and by the reflection of the window it was taken through. But from beyond the frame one could see the street beyond, and the hundreds of masked figures that were waiting outside. What one might observe to be a noose on a lamppost was onto in the picture. The crowd of armed watchers lined the street all the way back until they formed silhouettes into the fog.
Even more disturbingly, something else seemed to be present through that mist. It was unclear exactly what the creature was. The silhouette indicated that it was clearly something living, but as tall as the lampposts and with tentacle-like limbs that curled and stretched out to the buildings across the roads, and whatever it was it seemed to be at the very least passive to these Sasonish thugs that were standing quietly outside Kalmine’s house.
5 minutes after Kalmine’s last report, he was followed up by a second, simply stating: “help”
Talesa Square Capitol Building
“-I don’t bloody care what Kmara’s been having you do here.” Monatt promptly spat back, “Or what you bloody think of me. But you’re going to be torn to shreds just like the bloody rest of us if you don’t follow my fucking instructions.” The President, roughly straightened his own tie before throwing some papers at Zeister.
“These people at the High Imperium legation need assistance. Those savages outside hate their colonial guts and are beginning to mass around that legation quarter on OUR side of the border. I need you to get down there and get those incompetent fucks we call a police force to break up that gathering.” The President scowled, “...Unless you want to stay here?”
Kmara stayed quiet throughout the President’s heated mission, simply glaring at Zeister with now cold and concerned eyes.
SHOPPING STRETCH
The Marines whipped their guns up as they heard the footsteps running past them, but relaxed when it became clear it was just a mother and her kids. The baleful white-armoured dragon helmets watched them go, no doubt distressing the youngsters further, before turning towards the Carnaithians.
Sergeant Takenaka raised a hand in greeting, then turned to watch as the local took pictures of them from a nearby roof. One of his marines muttered that he could drop the guy, and Takenaka rebuked him instantly.
"I don't know Marine, do you think killing an unarmed civilian is a good idea?"
The soldier dropped his head as Takenaka watched the alien turn and leave.
"Think we're going to have company sooner rather than later," he announced to Aphkaral and the Carnaithians as they arrived. "The diner next to the embassy was a bust, whole place is dirty as hell and the kitchen is so greasy the place'd burn down the moment someone sneezed too loudly. This place, though,"
He pointed towards the bright storefront of Boxer's.
"I don't like that at all. Starbuck, get a drone up."
The only Frame in their squad stepped forwards, with nothing to indicate to the Carnaithians that she was an artificial intelligence as her face and skin were covered by the G-BUS armour. She dug a small drone from her pack and loosed it, sending the tiny device humming at head-height into the building to scan the interior for signs of life or traps, whether hi-tech or primitive.
Meanwhile the other two soldiers in his squad moved to the far side of the street, climbing the fire escape onto a low roof that gave them a little bit better of a vantage point, though not much thanks to the fog. They activated their thermals, watching in opposite directions through the chill and gloomy fog...
Royal Federation
Samuel took a seat and glanced at the bottle and glanced at the Teliran. His suit choice was odd yet still rather stylish, his taste in drinks was also quite good. Possibly a result of his position as the warehouse manager, goods could easily 'go missing' or be 'unaccounted for' under his watch. This was perfect.
"Yes, thank you." Samuel replied as he began lighting a cigarette as well.
"Obviously you don't mind if i smoke either." He said taking a draw and blowing out a cloud of smoke.
"For starters, I'd the shipping manifest for that day." He took a sip of the wine, it was sweet and went down smoothly, as expected.
"And, who found the weapons? Was it you or perhaps an employee?" He said putting his drink down awaiting his answer.
Envoy Avenue
Khamir was sat at his table. Leant to one side and propping his head up on his right hand. The sudden call had been annoying, but right now it was the only major event that had happened and the prospect of telling the people sheltering below that Tetlisun had contacted them all and was doing something about it would be invaluable at least for a few days. Still Khamir had no particularly high hopes, they were on their own for now. Tetlisun was a world away, and still it amused him if it had not been for Khamirs assistance on behalf of the Union the man would not even be in power right now.
He smirked at the comment that the whole ASN was behind them, right now it felt like they were all outside trying to bring this city down but the comment that this was not an isolated incident caused the ambassador to scowl and sit up straight. This was far more serious than they had thought.
“Stadtholder, Ambassador Khamir here, while sending an expedition by road would likely take significant time is there any possibility of a small aerial group? Enough to evacuate the civilians and critically endangered while the rest of us wait for the proper rescue?” His tone was legitimate, Khamir was hoping for some proper responses.
Ophenias Troupe
The somewhat joking statement regarding the hunting down of collaborators did not sit well with the university group. Many studied history and knew all too well that what old Oyle was saying was absolutely true, it was only a matter of time.
“What are our options?” One asked.
“We cant hide in here there are too many of us, besides there are loads of us someone could easily report this place”
“We could move on?” Another added.
“And get lynched?” Ophenia raised her hands to quiet a rise in noise.
“Everyone calm down we have a while before it gets to that point. We need to work out a plan before then maybe work something out with the embassy. Oyle do you have any ideas?”
Chrysoar Castle
The explosion from the crate had practically mobilised every civilian within the Capitol zone. From gunfire to a full-on demolition attack several civilians who had been roped into assisting rushed up, bringing more bits of random detritus with which to try keep the barricade built up. The soldiers as well readied themselves for a full-on push and firefight, but with the killing of the assault team it seemed the enemy had lost their will to fight.
Jeers and cries came from the Capitol line, insulting and calling out the Teliran insurgents.
“I’ve killed Union babies that fight harder!”
“If your what they call freedom fighters Im glad for the Empire!”
“Your mum was Herakles sex slave!”
Trefeld had come forward to look over the barricades just as the loudspeaker began to blare. More jeers came in reply but Trefeld looked visibly worried. Soldiers turned to him and grinned, now so pumped up on stims and with little rest they were practically itching to fight, it reminded him of the reports from Addas of rabid units so drugged up they didn’t know what or why they were killing anymore. The young leader had a choice to make, he could try evacuating everyone but there were simply too many and he had nowhere to go. But to fight was to die.
He already knew the choice his soldiers would make.
Talesa Square Capitol Building
“You want me to save a nation that practically genocided natives publicly multiple times?” Zeister laughed.
“I know my nation has a particularly coloured history when it comes to dealings in the galaxy but your asking me to side with the devil, Capitol and the High Imperium together crushing the native resistance. Its practically an anti-colonials wet dream, I expect the Orillian contingents new team would be promptly masturbating while filming the whole ordeal.” He did however despite the comment want to desperately get out of this forsaken room.
“Give me 30 minutes and a place to clean myself up and give me full police uniform, they cant see me like this or you will have the mother of all flareups on your hands”
Envoy Avenue
With Alak's tremors limited to an extent that he could notice at this point, he was happy enough to attend the call brought on by what was revealed to be a very significant crisis. He leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed and a pendant on his sleeve representing a mourning attitude. He listened intently as Tetlisun said what he intended, and Khamir responded, pushing for more active measures. He glanced to the right of the video feed as a message was forwarded from the Union complex across the street; the photos from Kalmine popping into his priority feed in sequence. A thread was announced where joint security elements were discussing the matter, but all Vitiri could do was grimace. His position was far too distant to mount an expedition, he thought.
The Shopping Stretch
"If you'd like our assistance with reconnaissance, may I ask if you have room in your vehicle for these supplies?" Aphkaral asked Takenaka, raising the duffel bags he carried. "Securing what we have is more important than retrieving new, I would think."
Anton - the human - watched as the drone hummed its way through the light diffusing throughout the mists, slowly dancing its way into the entrance of Boxer's. "If it were trapped, wouldn't it be damaged by those?
High Imperium Legation
From the elevator bank, there was a slight cough, like someone clearing their throat. "Greetings, good sir. I am Heiros Envirous. Might I have the pleasure of your name and position?"
Meltar stepped forward, eyeing the representative they'd sent to him. Decidedly unimpressive at first glance. But far from him to make a snap judgement. Best to observe the niceties first.
---
Out on the streets, even as the militia troopers reacted with fear and anger at the growing crowds, the Legionnaires leading the peacekeeping efforts kept calm. They'd been given orders, and they intended to keep them.
Teleconference
“Ambassador Khamir.” Tetlisun first responded with a smile, of course after a brief transmission pause, the Stadtholder’s smile soon diminished, “...I wish our meeting were under better circumstances.” He left another moment of silence,
“There is no option I have not already considered, Ambassador. Kaban is too far and too dangerous for any extensive air operation- We have good reason to believe that the AA capabilities are far too dangerous to risk an aerial deployment without jeopardising both your lives and the crews. As for usage of exoatmospheric craft, that too is out of the question, Kaban lacks the infrastructure to accommodate such vessels, unless you wanted your people to trek miles out into the hinterlands, and that’s discarding the threats of attacks by the insurgents below.”
The Stadtholder shook his head, “I assure you every option has been calculated on maximal utility, efficiency and effectiveness. At present your people are far safer behind your embassy walls than in a helicopter flying over the Sasonish cityscape and bayous. If such a possibility becomes more feasible, I shall let you know.”
He then proceeded to turn his attention to the subsequent question from none other than the creaking tones of Minister Mylixen of the Orillian Embassy,
“Your Eminence… Why the troubles here in Kaban have been troubling- After all, stability is the aim of every country… These protesters have been far from unreasonable as certain other parties have implied… May I seek your assurance that the Associated States of Natar is prioritising a diplomatic resolution to this situation rather than throwing itself resolving this terrible crisis through bloodshed upon those simply expressing their free will…?” The Orillian inquired, the Minister’s boney hands clasped each other as he gave a demanding glare. The Stadtholder seemed relatively unmoved as he promptly replied,
“The ASN is, of course, not seeking to cause a massacre here, Minister. That is why the assembly has been debating, and continuing to debate a suitable approach to negotiations… But we cannot first begin to even initiate that without to greenlight from both the Kalethian and Tesfeld governments… Once that authority has been granted the assembly must further discuss who comprises the negotiating team, what we are prepared to offer and what we will not tolerate. This plan must then be validated by the Executive Assembly, the Kalethian Chamber and the Tesfeld Senate. The negotiations will then open, who knows how long the back-and-forth in discussions will transpire, until a settlement is found. That settlement will then need to be ratified by both the representatives for the dozen Sasonish Independence Movements and President Monatt.”
The Stadtholder finished by sighing, pinching the ridge of his nose with his eyes closed, he evidently was aware as anyone else of how ridiculously obvious how slow this intervention was going to be, especially with the Orillians hounding the prioritisation of a lengthy diplomatic effort.
“...But as your embassy has made our member-states abundantly conscious of over the past few days… A massacre of the Kaban population by Teliran foreign forces for a… ‘colonial cause’ is the last thing we want if we seek a long-term solution. So diplomacy must be prioritised.” His magma-red eyes gave his stressed appearance an almost blood-shot look.
“In the meantime, I have ensured the ASN is simultaneously juggling with the preparations for the approval of an intervention force to save time should talks-”
“Stadtholder Tetlisun-” Minister Mylixen interjected before being interrupted himself.
“-I am very conscious that such preparations may appear like jingoism to the Kaban and global public at large, Minister, but I am afraid my willingness to entertain a peaceful resolution is not infinite.” Tetlisun asserted, resting back in his chair.
To a veteran diplomat like Khamir, who had worked with Tetlisun since it’s ascension to power, the image that Tetlisun was no longer one of the energy he had once possessed, but of a weathered, middle-aged bureaucrat. Each wrinkle that formed the crow’s feet around his eyes seemed like battle scars from his struggles that had atrophied the informal autocrat over the years.
Royal Federation Legation
Karata was quick to grin and nod to his companion as he took another puff. Everything was clearly as he needed it as the Teliran dug into a nearby locker, from it he withdrew a stack of papers and invoices. Planting them squarely on the table, the warehouse owner gave a brief and careful nod before cooly ventilating smoke from his mouth.
“It was an inspection by the legation cops that uncovered the crates and, as I've told them, I had no idea they were being kept here. I was told they were crates of vacuum cleaners!” He chuckled, scratching his brow, “Though I admit I should’ve been more on-the-ball with checking my cargo.”
Samuel’s own smile dissipated into a more serious curiosity as he inspected the papers granted to him. The haulier reported to have brought the goods for said ‘Vacuum Cleaners’ was labelled down as a one Holitide & Sons trucking company, a local transporter located close to the Southbank Central Precinct. If these were the people supplying these arms, then they were the epitome of hiding in plain sight.
“I quite assure you detective, I was never given information on what was really inside of those boxes…” Mr. Karata assured with something of a smirk as he planted his hands together on the desk authoritatively, “...And as it seems the affairs of your fine officers are just about wrapping up here, may I assume that you will withdraw from my premises by dawn? A dozen different hauliers were booked to be bringing in and out in the past hour alone, so time is, as they say, money.”
“Of course, of course…” Samuel chuckled casually, taking the papers and gesturing, “I’m sure you don’t mind if I borrow these for the time being?”
Karata shook his head, “Not at all, detective. You have a good day now…” The Teliran muttered as the Federation investigator took his leave; melting into the city scenes thereafter on a new mission: Work out exactly what, in truth, was going on here.”
Ophenia’s Troupe
As Oyle sat himself down, the question of what to do was raised. For a moment Oyle didn’t seem to respond until the question was placed onto him. Holding his newspaper firmly in his hand, the old Teliran gave a somewhat concerned, conflicted look, which he then directed to Salinea. His wife seemed to glance in silence for a second before she quickly broke the quiet with a simple,
“Oyle, no.” The old lady gave a pained look as the old gentleman redirected his attention back to Ophenia. Rising from his chair with the screech of his seat, he hobbled off; disappearing into the backroom. Muffled talking seemed to follow for nearly a quarter-hour before the Teliran once more returned to the kitchen, his face only looking more serious. In this moment of tension, the old man simply stated,
“We will leave at dawn, someone is coming to help get you to the embassies. I trust them with my life.” Oyle assured, despite Salinea’s look of dismay.
_
High Imperium Legation
The Teliran that came to the desk was far from happy or warm as the Heiros was,
“I don’t give a damn what in the blazes you’re callin’ yourself! Are you outta yer damned maind?!” The representative grunted, his teeth gritting as he took a moment to dust off his blazer and compose himself.
“My name is Saunos Komargi, i’m part of the Kaban municipal board, and i’m here on behalf of the fuckin’ Kaban government, which you’ve just fucking snubbed my overthrowing their accepted governor and name yourself the replacement of without so much as a request for a fucking reception of credentials you psycho! What thah hella thinkin’ down here?!”
The Teliran’s face was practically ready to explode with fury, “We’re sendin’ a fucking guy down here to help take charge of the situation in cooperation with the Kaban government… Snub us again and you’re gonna be causin’ a war. Are we understood, Mister Heiros or whatever you called yourself?”
___
Talesa Square Capitol Building
Adjusting his demeanour, Monatt gave a more familiar pearly grin to the Capitolite once Zeister had caved in to his demands,
“Attaboy! That’s the Sasona Spirit!” With that, the politician took a look at the superintendent who gave a brief side-eye to Zeister before leaving. The President, once more heading to the door, turned,
“Oh, and Mister Zeister, you ARE called Zeister right? Keep in mind that these people have just launched a military coup against their ambassador to us… They’re basically a military junta right now- Keep them handled however you see fit, but just don’t make life worse for my government than it already is, hm?”
With that, the President left Zeister to prepare with his newly secured privileges, supplies and mission. A squad car was ready out in the capitol square to drop the Kommandant off at the legation at a moment's notice.
Chrysaor Castle
From the cheering and triumph of the Capitolite holdout, it seemed like the enemy had been thoroughly trounced as the only life among the fog was the cries of the dying. Though the Telirans made sure to leave some parting gifts through the fog in the form of stray shots to keep the Capitolite’s ducking.
In the following hours after the ultimatum by the bandana forces, an unsettling silence rolled over the castle. It was almost as if, amid this wall of fog, the entire city has been dissolved into another plane. Where there once were the rumblings of rioting, firefights and chaos, now there was the sound of nothing, absolutely nothing, and all the Capitolite’s could see was a wall of white.
The descending darkness of night arose new troubles. Over the sheet of foggy white, now the curtain of darkness too fell over the stronghold. But this time for the neighbourhood, the streetlights didn’t come on. Indeed, nothing connected to the city power grid was coming on. They had been cut off.
From the shadows came the odd rustle of something from the darkness, the occasional rapid series of running boots from place to place; still nothing could be seen. Whether this stronghold had been stockpiled of night-vision equipment or not, it was now clear that the assailants to the Capitolite neighbourhood were making an effort, contrasting to their behaviour prior, to do anything but be seen. Something was afoot, and in this silence of night and as the ultimatum time began to draw to a close, there was no doubt that trouble was brewing.
Finally, after half an hour of gut-wrenching unsteadiness, the quiet was broken. But rather than gunfire, the sound was the roaring of an engine. The bumbling engine revving was initially relatively far off, but it soon got louder and louder. Finally the screaming of the engine reached a fever-pitch as the vision of a car came hurtling through the cold night’s mist and smashing into the Capitolite barricades.
Whether the car broke through or not was irrelevant, it did not explode nor contain anything of danger, as it quickly became apparent. Upon inspection the only occupant of the vehicle was one figure. Whoever this person had been, they were evidently a human. Their face was mutilated, contorted, bludgeoned, gored and peeled beyond recognition, the eyes were gone; so was the tongue and ears. It seemed his belly had been cut awide, his reproductive organs gone and his neck laced with rope marks. Stuffed into the chest pocket of his torn shirt was a note, a note which revealed the identity of the deceased:
Colonial butcher, Davo Kalmine
Abandoned by his kind
Embraced by their fate
Shopping Stretch
As the Carnaithan and Jade party made their advance upon the retail property, they were met by no signs of hostility or harm. In fact, they were welcomed by the whooshing open of the still-active automatic doors. Redness of dusk was replaced by the darkness of night and the prime hours for the nocturnal Telirans, the glowing warmth and evident safety of Boxer’s seemed almost too appetising.
The scans of the place gave no indications of some ambush waiting ahead, though it was anyone’s guess if some kind of special hiding spot existed for such occasions in a place as pristine and well-built as this. From out of a utility room, suddenly, the figure of a portly businessman emerged into open view of the group. Immediately catching eye of them, the Human male gave a jolly wave before heading over,
“Hello! Come in, come in!” The man chuckled warmly as he twirled his bushy mustache perched under the safety of his rosey nose, “Welcome to Boxer’s! Kaban’s most respected source for all of your possible news! My name is Mister Royce…” The dapper form of Mr. Royce clasped his hands together as he stood by the doorway to welcome the group in,
“I must say, though, please keep your… Hm… Armaments, shall we say? On safety- I’ve only just had this floor waxed!” The laughing businessman joked as he began to walk back towards the tills, looking back to the group,
“...Well? Are you coming in? What can I get you?”
High Imperium
The Heiros' face might as well have been carved from ice, for all the expression he showed as Saunos raved and shouted. When the other man paused, he tilted his head sharply. "So. You will...take charge of the situation, will you? Will you also be able to maintain peace in this legation? Not one person, be they resident or rioter, has died since this embarrassment began, and I have kept it so, despite far rasher heads calling for blood."
Now his voice started to climb in volume to a grinding rumble. "And yet you and your government are more concerned with being snubbed, than the lives of your citizens. Oh yes, I understand you, Mr. Komargi. I understand that if one person dies because you and yours took charge here, then I shall personally have the records of this conversation distributed onto the Ancnet before I place a standing bounty of 5 SIGEC on your head...dead or alive. Therefore, I suggest that you do indeed manage to handle things."
Then he turned on his heel and left back to his office, calling over his shoulder for the receptionist to find accommodations for their guest and not to bother him until the next flunky from the government arrived.
Teleconference
Khamir sat back slightly, disappointed by the reply. He could understand of course, but it seemed almost too perfect that the insurgents had AA capabilities, surely that meant they had access to military equipment. If that was indeed the case, then hiding behind the embassy walls was about as effective as building a sandcastle to hold back the tide.
“Indeed, I feel the same way, perhaps when this is over, we could very well do so. Thank you for your reply” Khamir did not press the question further, because he was far more interested when Mylixen spoke up. They had seen little of the Orillians so far in the crisis, Khamir and Alak had debated about their involvement over some drinks even as the civilians came to the embassy. The Orillians tone seemed to confirm what Khamir was thinking all along, every damn chance they got they tried to undermine whoever and whatever they could for their cause. Given the situation in the High Imperium embassy and the Capitol quarter they were likely celebrating to the heavens.
Still Tetlisuns handling of Mylixen brought a brief but small smile to the Union ambassadors face, he truly felt sorry for the Teliran, the sheer diplomatic and political tape he was having to wade through for this was likely truly impossible.
“I would like to thank your efforts to resolve this peacefully so far Stadholder, I am sure you know our supply situation is dwindling. Given that coming in with helicopters and more would be at risk too much especially should they stop to try rescue individuals what about the possibility of a supply drop? Food is becoming much harder to acquire here and we do not know when help us coming. A fast supply drop may be very well needed to keep many of us alive”
Ophenia’s Troupe
The university students looked to each other as Oyle wandered off. Some whispered with each other and Ophenia looked on to try catch a small glimpse of the man’s room. The woman was tired honestly, sleep had come poorly to her and now the prospect of being dragged outside and openly executed in the street was stressing her beyond the limits of what she could take. They had a duty to protect their students, so far that wasn’t going well.
When Oyle came back into the room and spoke aloud the student’s eyes brightened up, the prospect of leaving and getting somewhere safe made the most of them happy. Some were still reserved, however. Ophenia couldn’t help but ask.
“Which embassies?”
High Imperium Legation
Zeister slicked back his hair in the car as he put his cap back on. His hair was still dripping wet but then he hadn’t gotten the chance to properly dry himself after the shower and change of clothes. At least he was clean and presentable now and out of that damn room as the vehicle carrying them to the High Imperium Legation sped on through checkpoints. Zeister now wore a uniform of the Kaban Police Commissioner and while it chaffed at him it was better than walking into this situation with his Capitol clothing on.
The car finally pulled up to the chaotic area and Zeister quickly got out.
“What a shit show” He said aloud. The crowds were both running from the legionaries but also trying to partially fight back where they could, which was of course incentivised more people to rise up. He straightened his uniform and nodded to his small escort of several police officers. Marching forward past the legionaries who he eyed with distain they moved into the embassy proper just in time to see Saunos Komargi trying to confront the situation.
“No. He will not, I will be taking charge of this situation. And given the response of your men outside I fully expect dead people on the ground within the next 5 minutes tops. I fully suggest you put your meaningless threats into the river out back where they belong, your bounty would be ignored quite easily while a crowd of several hundred locals tear your limbs from your body. Before you start ridiculing me, I have intimate experience with crowd suppression and riot de-escalation that’s why I am here. So, I suggest you listen to me” Zeister then pointed outside.
“Get your big armoured goons to stop their advance and de-escalate the situation before someone gets hurt and you have shooting on your hands”
Chrysoar Castle
The Capitolites had been manning the barricades for hours. The last of the stims had been distributed, coffee supplies had run out and some soldiers took small naps where they could. Night vision was rare, distributed only a handful of sets mostly to those in commanding lines of fire. Still Capitol civilians had joined in, carrying either hilariously outdated fire-arms with questionable use or carrying kitchen knives.
Still Trefeld had managed to get some small sleep, the occasional gunfire waking him up only for the situation to turn into nothing. But when night came, everyone was on station, the Capitolites were not idiots and some of these men had fought in proper combat. They knew a night attack was the best option, especially when the power was cut.
The sound of the roaring engine was clear as it raced out of the fog, bursts of fire followed, hitting the already dead driver and numerous points on the car the heavy machine gun on the Themis managed to destroy the engine but it was a futile gesture. The car lost control at speed, swerving to the right and careening into the left most barricade. Boxes, concrete and more went flying as the car was wrecked totally, the soldiers having flung themselves away from the impact. Still the damage was done as the flames revealed the occupant within, the left part of the barricade was buckled and heavily damaged. Immediately soldiers rushed to try push the burning car away from the barricade and civilians tried to throw objects back on to secure it. Trefeld himself stared at the burning corpse of Davo Kalmine.
The young Capitolite officer had endured much in his life, but the thought of immediate death at last was too much. The soldiers watched in confusion and anger as their commanding officer fell to his knees and began to cry.
SHOPPING STRETCH
Sergeant Takenaka narrowed his eyes, though this wasn't readily apparent to Mr Royce. Still, his voice alone conveyed his disbelief.
"Sir, you know city is in middle of civil war?" he said in his imperfect Common, peering around the interior from the doorway. Around Royce's head the little recon drone bumbled quietly, peeking into the utility room, behind the counter and in all the nooks and crannies it could find.
"We need food and sanitary supplies. We uh....can pay?" he said, a little surprised - he had been expecting to simply loot empty stores, perhaps fortify one as extra living space, not bargain with a shopkeeper for a bulk purchase of noodles in a cup or whatever the Teliran equivalent was, but life was strange.
The whole thing made him uneasy though and he waved his marines back, ordering them to watch the streets. The fact that a human, of all people, had been allowed to operate unmolested through all this was highly suspicious. Either Mr Royce was so beloved of his community that they gave him a free pass for being foreign, or things were not as they seemed here...
Envoy Avenue
Padov inherently felt safer at the embassy than out in the fog that had been a security concern even without the context of the contemporary unrest. Stood in the conference-room-turned-communal-area, he shifted between helping with chores and shuffling through camera feeds on his PDA and back again while listening to the nervous laughter of parents contrasting the genuine giggling of children who weren't old enough to notice the difference. His squad was spread desperately thin by themselves, and no matter how much official refusal they gave veterans and eager young men, armed militia helped cover bathroom breaks, naps, and meals. That last one was something the Lieutenant had been neglecting, and his body made this painfully obvious - literally - as a growl rumbled just loud enough for Miqiiz, the problematic rookie from the extraction sat next to him, to hear.
"I thought you said a good meal was the best and most important part of your service," The younger guard muttered quietly, eyes still closed with his PDW resting on his plate carrier. Lyk smirked, the rookie was getting attentive.
"Sure thing. Go fetch the sergeant for me so he can keep an eye on the feeds."
Shopping Stretch
"I believe his most valuable product is barred from those that mistreat him," Aphkaral commented as he approached the store, behind Takenaka. "You mentioned you're a source of news?" The hulking, though gentle-spoken, Tunora asked to the human. The others of his nationality window shopped, though Aph's jaded and attentive eyes didn't remain locked to Royce's jolly gaze. There was definitely much to be found here - no doubt purchases, both of a materiel nature and very likely informational, had been made, yet he was still well-stocked.
"Regardless of our gains here," he began again in a hushed tone, turning back to the Jade sergeant, "It may generally be in our best interest to ferry what we've already found back to the people that need it." The Tunora looked past the armored soldier, seeing the two Carnaithians stare at the Respite and skittishly scan the shapes in the fog respectively. "I hate to admit this, but I don't trust my fellows to be the greatest of help if things were to become complicated."
Teleconference
Tetlisun didn’t seem to reply immediately to Khamir’s question. Instead, the group of alien ambassadors were left to the awkward silence of Tetlisun calmly doing and saying nothing for several moments. It was unclear whether this interval was on some kind of technical issue or if the Stadtholder was thinking, whatever the case, the reply finally came:
“...I will see what I can do.” The Stadtholder proceeded to then move on to several smaller, most particular questions held by a number of unaligned consuls dotted around the city, predominantly the Southbank, before cooly collating some papers as though he were preparing to leave as he concluded,
“Well, unless anyone has any remaining questions, I'm afraid I must wrap this up. Just please do not forget that the ASN too has staff trapped in the middle of things down there at the Unity Tower. None of you have been forgotten.”
High Imperium Legation
The presumption by the Heiros left the bureaucrat smirking, even more so once Zeister strode in.
“Ah”, Komargi beamed with open arms to the newcomer, “Jus’ the guy ah was hopin’ for.”
The Teliran turned back to the Imperial, pointing a thumb back to the Kommandant, “This is Mister. Zeister, he’ll be gettin’ your affairs in order as our Liaison Officer to the legation.” The portly Teliran seemed more than smug about the entire situation as he headed for the door,
“I trust you’ll afford Mister. Zeister all of the proper respects ‘n’ rights suited to his station; i’ll leave the dispatched police under his jurisdiction for…” He paused, looking to the Kommandant, “Assurances for his safety.” With that, Komargi merely tipped his hat and headed out the door to rush back to his means out of the quarter.
Shoving himself back into his car as he pelted back down the road and away from the chaos and rising tensions among the legation street and past the reswelling masses that formed anywhere they could find a place to. Drawing his phone, Komargi looked out of his car window to the reflection of the streetlights flashing by as he waited for the other side to pick up, finally speaking,
“Zeister has arrived at the Imperial Legation.” The Teliran smiled to himself as rubbed his cheek, “If the crowds don’t kill ‘em, the pair of them will butcher each other… No doubt about it.” Komargi terminated the call.
As midnight came upon the legation once more, Zeister’s claims were proving to be prophetic. Having been scattered prior, Teliran groups had simply found indoor areas to reorganise and were now coming back out onto the streets under the nightsky by force. The fogwall was only making locating ringleaders or coordinating dispersals all difficult. Gunfire at Imperial units through the mist from unknown directions during gatherings were making it extremely difficult to refrain from firing at crowds, as well as the location of the perpetrators as they disappeared to any location they could.
Ontop of such dissent, individuals were now utilizing civilian drones on legation grounds to drop refuse or even bricks from high altitudes down upon government cars or even workers. Anti-colonial graffiti was now finding itself onto large open streets amid the chaos and discord while the worst of the report was yet to come. A Royal Federation trader in the Federation quarter, a middle-aged male, had been reported dead in his apartment; killed by two shots to the face and one to the chest at point-blank range. Eye witness claims asserted, in every account, that the killer was a Human male.
He also headed in the direction of the High Imperium legation.
The Royal Federation Legation had already responded to the developing situation by official statements which were quicker to assume Imperial guilt than innocence. The willingness of the High Imperium’s government to allow such actions to be initiated from under their jurisdiction, the Federation legation argued, was a sign of implicit disinterest in preventing them. The final statement made by the legation was simple: Turn out the killer or ‘the Royal Federation will be forced to enter Imperial territory themselves’.
__
Ophenia’s Troupe
Oyle shifted on the spot a little, clearly hesitant to explain things further as he grumbled,
“The closest and safest place will be the Orillian Embassy.” He quickly raised an authoritative, wrinkled hand to curtail any potential protests so he could add, “Going that way will let us right through the safe streets of the corporate quarter… The first half of the way will still be dangerous, which’s why we’re waitin’ for this fella to come along.”
He paused, looking at the looks of the rest of those around the table, “These Orillian folks ain’t friends with your ‘Union of Worlds’ for sure… But they ain’t killers, they ain’t bad folks. They ain’t gonna go about executing citizens of ol’ Natar, nor your alien empire. We’ll be able t’ cross to the safer Southbank ‘fter that and work out where we’re goin’ from there.”
_
Chrysaor Castle
It was a few minutes into the chaos that the garrison at the Chrysaor Castle, in their confused and disgruntled state, suddenly began to receive several cracks and wizzes. Bullets began to come flying through the fog and towards the men at the barricades. Following the hail of projects came a new threat from above. A dozen drones, likely used for delivery, were now repurposed for far more violent objectives. Each, carrying what were clearly IED’s, came descending upon the Capitolites below; honing down onto forces manning the barricades while some came smashing through house windows to blow up the insides.
Amid the confusion, suppression and danger from all directions came the next coordinated move. Timed just after the drones began appearing, Telirans came rushing through the pitch-black foggy night. Some armed with small arms, others with machetes. The attackers were no longer a dozen half-hearted skirmishers, but hundreds of prepared souls rushing amid the lull of the defender’s organisation.
The previously quiet night now erupted into a terrible cacophony of screeches and screams as night assault came rushing to the makeshift defences, they came clambering over what obstacles they could. They came hacking, wailing, slashing and burning, and they didn’t stop at the sight of pointed guns anymore. These people now acted as a determined swarm, all feverishly trying to overwhelm the attackers in their perceived vulnerability.
_
Shopping Stretch
“You know what they say!” Royce chorted, “If you pick a fight with a Boxer, don’t expect to win!” The businessman chuckled at his own job before turning his smiling face to the Carnaithan and nodding,
“I indeed sell anything under the sun, from information to supplies! But nothing comes cheap.” Royce added with a mix between joviality and a warning tone.
“And if you don’t mind me saying, sirs… If what I've been hearing is true, you shall be needing all the help you can get!”
The drone that went about probing the interior at Boxer’s found its main room to be completely natural and normal. Peeking through the utility room, however, it saw nothing. But perhaps that was something to be concerned about. There was absolutely nothing in any of the back rooms. No furniture, no stock, no people, no nothing. It seemed that, considering the emptiness of the room Royce had come from before they arrived, he had been standing in a completely empty room doing nothing until they arrived.
All the way amid their discourse, sounds were growing outside. The rumble of crowds and havoc almost seemed to leap in intensity without even being noticeable how close they were getting. With the fog there was no way of telling how close the danger of the rebellion’s encroachments were, but it certainly sounded like they were far too close for comfort.
“Might I recommend that we make a rush of this exchange…? I don’t suspect we have long to mingle.” Royce inquired with a beam.
___
Envoy Avenue
The rumble of trouble was now getting close to the ambassadorial territories, too close. With the approaching tide of hostility came a renewed rise in the number of hostile citizens that began to find their way onto the avenue; their numbers were swelling.
It wasn’t just protesters that were starting to mass where they could, clogging the streets, but there were refugees too. Mostly Telirans, these people were coming like the wave pushed forward before a tsunami. Displaced by the threat of those that would harm them, these people, all endangered for their own reasons, had been pushed along the threshold of revolutionary territory and these people were now trying to find sanctuary here. The people that began to swell the avenue was growing into the hundreds, even the thousands.
With protesters and collaborators now on the same street, with militants not far away, the danger was clear. Already scuffles, harrassment, battles and standoffs were occurring between both sides of the story.
It wasn’t long after this hotspot of friction appeared that ‘help’ for the refugees arrived. The Tesfeld Paramilitary groups were starting to also show up amid this gathering in the street. These counterrevolutionary militiamen, several dozen strong, were armed with their own weapons and determined to pick fights with the anti-colonial protesters. Headed by one ‘Colonel Tasimbi’, an ex-soldier for the Tesfeld Army, the paramilitary forces typically kept out of eyeshot of the embassy security, but news came that they were now beginning to threaten, assault and even shoot at any protesters they came up against.
The refugees of course loved this. The paramilitary, to them, was helping to protect them from anti-colonial thugs, especially if the embassies had no plan in housing all of these endangered Telirans. Tasimbi was also reportedly willing to hunker down his forces with the embassy to bolster its defensive strength.
On the flipside, it was clear this Tesfeld counterrevolutionary group had no reconciliatory tones for the rebels and were making zero effort to deescalate things. Unless they were forced away from the avenue, the militia was only going to further demonise the colonials and alienate face-sitters and the apathetic.
SHOPPING STRETCH
One of the marines muttered something to Sergeant Takenaka and he immediately took a step backwards, raising his rifle.
"There's nothing in those store rooms, this is a trap." he announced loudly, glancing behind him at the encroaching sounds of violence. He repeated the last four words in Common so that the Carnaithians could understand, and then recalled his three marines back into the street, backing away from Boxer's. Kato had already taken the LAV back to the embassy to begin unloading what supplies they'd already found, but he radioed for the marine to button back up and come get them, even as they began a quicktime jog back down the street.
What had been quiet before was now heaving. Ahead of them it was a little thinner, as the protestors and refugees alike worked up the courage to get closer to the bright lights and wary guns of the foreign embassies, but either side and behind his quartet of marines the silhouettes of Telirans were showing thick through the fog.
Takenaka surreptitiously flipped the safety on his AA-42...
Envoy Avenue
It was incredible just how quickly a situation could deteriorate. Within twenty-four hours the traffic on the streets around the embassies had gone from locals quickly trying to accomplish their personal business to throngs of paramilitaries and very worried people. Liutenant Lyk had been, again, glued to the cameras, and had been trying to brainstorm solutions to the issue. Neither group, mingled as they were, trusted the other, and the amount of violence that both had engaged in had thrown the idea that people side with those who get less people killed out of the window simply as a result of the lack of accountability.
The plan was to spend some time identifying well-behaved, prominent community members out of the crowd and bringing them into the consulate one-by-one for consultation as crowd leaders. They would be directed mobilize the moderate elements of the colonial sympathizers to barricade the roads and take up residence in the buildings nominally owned by Carnaithian citizens instead of camping in the street. The problem was that this would take several hours of internet trawling and consultation with those familiar with the local scene before even the first of these individuals could be brought in and out. The more militant counter-protesters had to be reigned in - they didn't want to be seen, it seemed, but they could have their uses if they could be convinced to just talk to security.
Shopping Stretch
"Fuck, what do we do?" One of the Carnaithians quickly asked Aphkaral as the Jade marines began to backpedal back towards the embassy, the hum of chatter encroaching from the other direction. The Tunora mournfully dipped his head to Royce.
"We'll have to find some other time for it, I fear. Good bids to you," The hulking veteran said to the strange human shopkeeper before about-facing and following the Ingenious troops. "We're leaving," he uttered to his companions, who much more hurriedly and much less orderly followed.
Royal Federation
Meltar looked Zeister over slowly for a few moments as Komargi left. Then he nodded and turned on his heel, gesturing for the Commissioner to follow as he headed for the elevator and opened his comm, giving orders for the maniple to pull back and allow the police to take care of the situation for the moment. Entering the office, he brought up a display for the entire Legation, with known units and positions labeled. "I will allow that at first glance you seem to have experience with matters like this." The officer chuckled ruefully and shook his head. "Truthfully, the Academies teach more about riot elimination than riot suppression. That's far from the most pressing matter, though. The Federation Legation is rattling sabers at our door, and I've got no clue as to the whereabouts of their murderer. "
Leaning back, he left the table open. "So. Your suggestions, then?"
Envoy Avenue
The teleconference had ended and Khamir had leant back into his seat stressed. It wasn’t exactly the outcome he had wanted, but at the same time he knew Tetlisun wasn’t just playing them lip service, this was serious and the Stadholder was clearly trying to push things through. He didn’t envy the man.
But he sure as hell didn’t envy himself at the current moment in time. He had gone to again walk about the people in the embassy and told them of the meetings contents, saying about the plan to send in forces and secure the city to ensure everyone got out. It raised spirits a bit but the inevitable question of ‘when?’ kept being floated around. Of course, Khamir had no idea, so he was honest, it didn’t meet well with the peoples morale but it was better than nothing. He didn’t want to lie to them at this point in time, it was too volatile.
That wasn’t to mention the action coming closer to them, the protests, the fights, the revolutionaries, and counter revolutionaries. It was all going to hell quicker than he thought, gunshots were closer, shouting was closer, and security kept him up to date. Khamir wasn’t entirely sure on how to handle the coming situations so he had delegated that to Calico with full authority. The security chief was working closely with the Carnaithians of course, and Calico learned in to one of the cameras showed another small fight.
“We need to get some of the big ones in here to talk if we want any chance of surviving some of the big fights coming. It might not look good, but I think survival is the better option at this point, I have fought crowds on Celefra, never again if I can help it” The Union sergeant spoke, directing his comment to Khamir who had also come into the room to observe with him and Lyk.
“Yes I agree. By creation” He sounded so weary “Do what we must, make any invitations you need”
Ophenias Troupe
The announcement that they were going to the Orillian embassy practically caused the entire group to erupt into horrified and angry faces all around.
“We cant go there! They will hold us hostage and interrogate us!”
“They aint killers? Then why did they attack La Serena!”
“Surely we would be better just surviving the streets and going to our embassy…”
“Quiet!” Ophenia put her finger to her lips which caused the others to realise and stop shouting “With all due respect sir, the Orillian embassy will not be safe for us either, perhaps you can get us to a safe spot and we can make our own way?”
Chrysaor Castle
The chaos and confusion of the attack and the sudden breakdown of Trefeld under stress threatened to totally destroy the Capitol hold out then and there. Bullets whizzed overhead as the Teliran insurgents came in full bore, several men on the line went down to well placed shots as the moment of confusion and total uncertainty was exploited to the full by the attackers. For a moment the morale battle of the Capitolites was about to falter but help came from an unexpected source.
An old lady, clearly Capitol in origin and holding nothing more than a frying pan stood up to the line and began shouting orders. Instinctively given the Capitol training loud shouting of orders made the soldiers react, regardless of their current mental state. Slowly but surely proper return fire was put down gunning down the insurgents as they rushed the line. Trefeld was taken away by several civilians as the woman bellowed commands, she was after all somewhat renowned in Chrysoar castle, ‘Grandma Garren’ they called her, one of the few women who had ever held a commanding rank back in the days of Herakles.
As several angry men clambered over the barricade Grandma Garren was still shouting orders for disciplined fire, smacking one in the head with her frying pan before a nearby soldier redirected his fire, gunning the men down. Fear was no longer an option, this was a fight for survival.
“Grenades now!” The order was shouted, the single box of grenades they held onto had been distributed, and several were now thrown into the street. They had no quarrel in using every weapon at their disposal, even the civilians here knew this was it. They were fighting to the death, even as they went down to gunfire themselves, the very city was against them.
High Imperium Legation
Zeister prepared to hold his ground with Meltar, fully ready for a shouting match. Thankfully the man wasn’t totally incompetent and Zeister followed as he beckoned.
“Over a decade of experience. Riot elimination is a sure fire way of being overthrown, and here its practically committing public suicide. You need to have your men pull back, let them gain a bit of ground, let them burn some shops down, let them vent their rage on some High Imperium buildings. Keep your men away and try not to give them a target. If what you say is true then you will need them for if the Royal Federation tries anything stupid. If you have any anti drone measures use them” Zeister was practically listing the methods he knew.
“I would get looking, if absolute need be pick a scapegoat. De-escalation is paramount at the moment, you have a baying mob that’s one step behind turning into a full on attack force”
General
As Tetlisun’s Conference came to a close, so too came the rally held by Bishop Clement at the Kilefa Park. The rally had been to promote peaceful dissidence; passive resistance. Instead, the news quickly came out of what had just transpired.
Finishing his speech to the masses that had come to watch through the fog, the crack of two gunshots had pierced the park and sent the frail figure of the old clergyman toppling to the floor. Already, representatives from the Teliran Capitolitist movement of the continent had already claimed credit for the act; accusing Clement of endangering the lives of the Tesfeld people and of Natar’s stability as a whole. The movement did not bring forth any particular profile for the unnamed assassin of theirs.
The Raxis Administration, oceans away in the rustic kingdom of Nardal, now controlled by the Capitolitist Coalition there, was rapid to condemn the actions of the local Teliran Capitolitists; stating that their actions, ‘did not represent the greater interests of the Capitolitist Political Movement on Natar as a whole’. Regardless of the politics, the greatest pacifying voice from within the revolutionary movement of Sasona now lay dead, and any respect for the Colonials now held by the separatist locals now lay with him.
The fog that had plagued Kaban thus far was now deteriorating. Leaving in its wake a full view through the night of the flames that licked from the skyline of the city like candles in the distance.
Envoy Avenue
As the Jade and Carnaithan force departed from Boxer’s, they departed with a simple bow from the owner before he set about lowering the store shutters. The streets leading up to the embassies were now filled, with people cramming the street like sardines. The masses were starting to panic at the growing violence on the fringes of the gathering; others were worrying over the approaching rebel forces that now advanced through the streets of Kaban unperturbed.
As this confusion and desperation grew, efforts to push towards the embassies and into their compounds grew. All it took was one gunshot from the crowd to initiate the complete collapse of order in the embassy streets into disarray. Almost immediately the avenue shattered with the screams of hundreds of locals as the crowds immediately began rushing past each other in a blind panic for safety.
Jostling, barging and trampling, the masses pushed forth to the embassy in a blind frenzy. Crowds pushed people over, crushing them below as the desperate refugees all began trying to squeeze through into the embassy anyway they could.
Inside, the Union and Carnaith had already received one key figure from the situation outside before the invitations and gathering process for the ringleaders had begun. Colonel Tasimbi had already entered the building before the chaos had broken out; now he was waiting to be dignified with a staff meeting. Tasimbi commanded the paramilitaries now providing what little buffer and protection was being afforded for the embassies, but he was not a kind man. He was a fierce and determined war veteran. Tasimbi had reportedly lost 8 comrades to past Sasonish insurrections and, in turn, he had afforded little mercy to those rioters caught by his lawless forces.
News was fast approaching that the rebels were now on the fringes of the avenue from both the east and west simultaneously. The already chaotic crowds were now becoming blocked in with the limited embassy defences.
Ophenia’s Troupe
Oyle looked to a student, simply commenting,
“I don’t know what La Serena is.”
“Anyhows.” He turned his attention to Ophenia. “As far as I know, the way to your embassy is completely cut off now by the revolutionary army. That’s why the Orillian Embassy is the only other surefire safe place I knows we can get to from here… Now I might not be some high-flying university professor… But it ain’t no good look for an ambassador to Natar to go about executing Natar’s own peoples when they come for sanctuary… Is it?”
He paused, “The only other place I knows is the corporate sector, ‘n’ i’m not sure if they can hold out this storm.”
Just then came a knock from the door. Oyle’s head quickly sparked up as he hurriedly went to unlock it. For a moment he murmured to whoever stood beyond. Finally, he opened it up; revealing a figure. Covered in what looked to be a gasmask, along with rags, boots, bandages and almost anything else that could cover his body. The cascade of browns, greys and other such dull-colours; alongside his sniper rifle made it quite apparent that the troupe were not meeting a pacifist.
“This is Taliki Masarr… He’s an old friend of mine… From my days as an interpreter to his tribe.”
Chrysaor Castle
The clamber for the castle was proceeding just as the attack had intended. Before the Capitolites could even reorganise, the rebels were already at the wall. So many explosions were going off back and forth that it made it near impossible to tell who was being attacked by each one. As the Teliran attackers began vaulting over any point they can, smashing through windows if they could, battering down barricades with cars and other such equipment, chaos became an inevitability. Grenades sent limbs flying as men screamed simultaneously for mercy and for blood.
But once the Telirans were inside of the compound, the real resistance began to build. Rallied around their commanding figure, the Capitolites now began a fanatical stand to survive. Automatic weapons began to carry the day as less and less charging rebels took the courage to sally forth into the frey as time went on.
The surprise assault had begun turning into a bloody meat grinder and no one wanted to charge into that. Slowly but surely, the number of revolutionaries firing or charging upon the defenders began to decline. Their own fierceness, however, only mounted. For these Telirans, they were already surrounded by their worst enemy. For them there was no hope of retreat from this compound, for them it was fight or die; each of them died in a frantic and desperate bid to preserve their lives against their foes.
Eventually, those isolated Telirans fell too, and once more the Castle fell silent to the crackling of fires, the creaking of collapsing structures and the agonising moans of the dying. As the battle died down, the scale of the carnage became apparent: There was scarcely an open space on the floor untouched by rubble, blood or corpses. At the very least, now, the fog was clearing up.
ENVOY AVENUE
Takenaka swore under his breath. Milling crowds stood between them and the embassy. If he'd still had the LAV he'd have just bundled everyone in and told Kato to floor it, but on foot...even with their menacing gunspears he didn't want to try force a way through the crowds. The chances of getting through without civilian casualties, or worse his own squad being swamped, were too low.
He yelled at his squad to follow and they ducked south into an alleyway, loosing their drones again, one to hover over the rooftops and chart a path whilst the other went ahead to spot potential trouble. He hoped to loop south and west through the lesser alleyways and streets and find the rear of the embassy, but already things had gone too far off-plan for his liking...
High Imperium
The other man grunted, and tapped his fingers on the desk for a minute before nodding. "Seems sound enough. We'll see how it goes." From there, the orders go out with relative speed, and the soldiers withdraw back to the embassy tower. Emboldened, the mob's roars blend into a single rumbling roar as they loot and sack the surrounding buildings.
From the window of his office, Meltar watches the flames flicker out of broken windows. "I do hope you were right about all of this. As for that scapegoat, I think we definitely need to consider finding one sooner rather than later."
Envoy Avenue
"This is insane," Alak whispered to himself in exasperation, thumb on chin as he called across to Khamir. The lobby below, which had been strongly held by Lyk's men, resembled some form of orderly - pre-existing security measures prevented the crowd from affecting anything dangerous, and the combination of diplomatic staff and carnaithian citizens who had become local community pillars both speaking to the crowd in front of the cordon, as well as the half-dozen riot launcher-armed troopers on the balconies above, gave reason for any given mindset to keep their demeanor. Vitiri still had citizens outside of the building, though it had been very clearly made obvious that leaving was their choice. Still, they had been doing a job that needed to be done. "Hello Khamir," He quickly started once his fellow had picked up the line, "This Tasimbi fellow is pressing for a staff meeting. Should we all meet together?"
--//--
"No alarms yet, that's good."
Padov wanted to chastise Miqiiz with one tidbit of military philosphy or another, but it was absolutely not necessary right now. It would be disruptive, a distraction.
"Just keep your eye on that terminal," The Lieutenant commented, looking down on the lobby from the top floor balcony. hidden behind the railing from the crowd was a large-bore rifle loaded with spider rounds; smart taser cartridges that, in a split-second, attuned themselves to target physiology for incredibly reliable non-lethal takedowns. He would normally have a dedicated trooper on sniper duty, but his force was still mobilizing and the militia elements from the expat groups were still being armed for guarding places other than the high-tension lobby.
"If we get anything on the MMS, then we have a problem. Until then, let the civilian staff handle it."
Envoy Avenue
Khamir napped his finger nervously on the overlook to the ground floor lobby, watching the crowds outside try to push past one another and barge into the entire building. While the Carnaith security tried to hold back the crowd the Union security personnel did whatever they could to slowly vet those that got in, some slipping past the cordon only to be grabbed by a man or women in security clothes. It was getting horrific.
The assassination of bishop clement had practically guaranteed them a swift death from the rioters and insurgents. There was no way to help colonial opinion now, only to ride out the ever-increasing insanity. Staff flitted about moving whatever small amounts of supplies they had left, they could barely keep themselves going let alone the crowd out there too. It took Alak calling to him to take the ambassador out of his trance. The Unioners face looked haunted and disturbed before he took a deep breath and nodded.
“Yes, he may be out only hope at buying some more time. He can be brutal, but we don’t have any other choice.” He came over to stand beside Alak and kept his voice down “We may be very well forced to make some controversial and terrible actions soon” He sighed. Clicking his fingers to a staff member walking past he got her attention.
“You there you wouldn’t mind bringing Mr Tasimbi up to us, would you?”
Ophenias Troupe
“Not that that’s ever stopped them…” One of the students muttered, they kept their voices down and talked among themselves. Ophenia sagged as she realised what was likely to happen. The Orillians wouldn’t kill them, they would use them as a bargaining chip, as hostages also likely. Oyle handing this group over to them would be like offering diamond to someone obsessed with trinkets. Just as Ophenia was about to reply the figure stepped in, causing many to take a step back out of fear.
“He will be able to get us to safety?” Ophenia said aloud. At this point, there was probably only one choice and that was to go to the Orillians, from the sounds outside things were only getting worse. They just had to hope the Orillians wouldn’t treat them poorly.
“Alright we will go. Let us grab our things” Murmurs of disagreement from the students came, but they had little choice.
High Imperium Legation
“It will work as a temporary measure” Zeister said defiantly in reply watching the flames of the buildings attacked rise from the window.
“As for a scapegoat pick one at random, but I assure you finding the actual killer would be a better option. At least make the scapegoat seem plausible, you need to be seen actually taking the initiative, actually doing what needs to be done for the people here benefit. Right now, you look like enemy No.1, we need to work on changing that”
Chrysoar Castle
The smoke and gunfire began to clear as the devastation on the Capitolite segment became clear. Several buildings had been left blackened ruins, bodies of both sides littered the ground, and the barricade was all but gone, the Themis APC which had protected them now having one side of it battered in, its track had been thrown, but perhaps with effort it could be repaired. Civilians who had come out to fight mourned their family members who had fallen or themselves lay dead on the concrete. Grandma Garren herself stood defiantly looking out across the ruined barricade.
“Ma’am” A soldier tiredly saluted. The old woman sternly gave a nod “Ammunition is very low, we have around 3 grenades left and I don’t believe we can withstand another assault. I may suggest we haul up in the inner building-“
“No” The old woman shook her head “Get this track repaired. How many do we have left?” The soldier was taken aback but tired.
“Uh around 53 ma’am including the civilian survivors”
“Get everyone together, grab everything you can. Fix this track and get the APC up and running again, collect the few civilian vehicles from the street. We are leaving the moment we can. We will bulldoze through them and move to a more secure location”
“Uh where ma’am?”
“Wherever Zeister went to. Failing that, the other embassies. Now move!”