Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

Glorious Arstotzka

17 (16%)

Glorious Moskurg

13 (12.3%)

Ingloriously Didn't Play

76 (71.7%)

Total Members Voted: 106

[Jilladilla]

N.E.M.O. - New Existance on Mars Organization

Design: UF-RCC-45 'Babel's Radio Station'
Truly a marvel of communication and the field of cryptology, the Radio Command Center 'Babel's Radio Station' was Engineer Nemonole's masterpiece; one originally intended to turn the tides against Canalla; but now it'll serve N.E.M.O.'s purposes; and to sow chaos amongst the forces arrayed against United Forenia while we're at it!

It's decryption capabilities are truly ahead of its time; and the engineer's claim that it could decrypt the 'undecryptable' may yet be true; a function enhanced by the devices ability to transmit over any and all frequencies; AM, FM and others known to man! Furthering it's competency in the field of intelligence, the 'Babel's Radio Station' is capable of intercepting and drowning out all other radio transmissions, denying the enemy vital information; and allowing the operators to more effectively sow a misinformation campaign.

This being said, the Babel's Radio Station Radio Command Center is a large complex that more or less mandates its own mostly dedicated rocket for as it occupies the bulk of the discretionary cargo space; able to field many operators at once, and with its size transmit to a multitude of frequencies independently and to a truly tremendous range: Interplanetary; a necessary function, seeing as how this is intended to serve as N.E.M.O.'s primary communications array after escaping the confusion on Earth.


Action: Sow chaos and infighting amongst the non-Forenian forces before the launch of N.E.M.O.; all while sitting in my launch chair

Spoiler: Extended Action Fluff! (click to show/hide)

It was truly going to be a memorable day, thought Engineer Nemonole; what with the N.E.M.O. Project finishing and about to be unveiled! Although the chaos caused by the resurfacing of Andres would have probably left the day remembered throughout Archipelagan History...

Anyhow, as Nemonole waited in their Radio Command Center aboard the UFSS 'Voice of Forenia' as technicians scurried about completing final preparations for the unveiling of N.E.M.O.'s great work, he called a meeting of the operators of the 'Babel's Radio Station'. "Ladies and Gentlemen, as you are all likely aware, outside there is chaos as both Andres and the Cannalans make their move. Sadly, we can likely do nothing overtly against this; however, there is still a way to help our countrymen repel this act of treachery; without jeopardizing N.E.M.O. It's time to use this Command Center for its initial purpose. Let us add more fuel to the wildfire that is this fiasco, shall we?"

Their statement done, the center explodes into action; operators manning their posts, ready to cause as much chaos amongst the Arstotzkans and Cannalans invading their homeland even as they prepare to embark on their voyage to Mars. Patching themselves into Cannalan, Arstotzkan, Soviet, as well as the other factions radio systems; they prepare to fuel the bonfire of chaos...

The radios of the Cannalan Navy crackled: "Forenian artillery is setting up at these coordinates, it seems like they're trying to take aim at our fleet!" There was no artillery at those coordinates truly, instead a spot on the projected path of Andres's group. How fortunate that in this sort of environment that the Navy is reliant on indirect fire and cannot visually confirm their targets themselves, or this subterfuge could be foiled so very easily..

Among the Soviet Navy, a report came out: "That Cannalan cruiser seems to be training its guns this way, comrade." Shortly after, the Cannalans got their own piece of misdirection: "The Soviet Navy sure seems to have gotten awfully restless... Almost as if they were preparing to enter combat.."

"This is Ricardo, my team has secured those rockets on the coast; can you believe that they aren't actually carrying any weapon grade payload? They're civilian!" There, a short transmission to avoid being shelled by the Cannalan Navy or stormed by their Army.

Nemonole themself addresses the Arstotzkans: "GLORY TO ARSTOTZKA! My fellow Arstotzkans, this is truly a momentous day, or at least it would have been, had some events leading up to it have not come to pass. Andres has promised an independant Arstotzka, one beholden to no nation other than Arstotzka! Yet what does he do? He sells your services to another country, a kleptocracy even!, as disposable shock troops! Andres's promises are hollow and meaningless, all of you just a means to his ends; his dictatorship over Arstotzka. He would see our Great Nation forever relegated to being a pawn on anothers chessboard. Even now the Pirates are planning on eliminating the TRUE Arstotzkan loyalists! Are you going to participate in casting our Great Nation into a Dark Age or are you going to bring about the Dawn of a Golden Age for Arstotzka?
DEATH TO THE TRAITOR! GLORY TO ARSTOTZKA!"
Immediately afterwards, he has the Babel's Radio Station commence jamming on the Arstotzkan communication frequencies to silence Andres's inevitable counterargument.

And then the final major bit of misinformation, directed at Cannala in general: "To anyone hearing this message: Andres has gone rogue. He gunned down my squad after we overheard the Red Mask speaking over his radio.. Something about 'The time is now, activate the device?' Everyone, he has deceived us all, don't listen to his lies! Beware he ha- kkkkkrrrrrrrssssssssssshk" Of course, this message was purposefully cut off by jamming, now spread to all non-Forenian channels... Of course, the technicians continue spreading the misinformation campaign, now feigning on being among the inevitable few signals that manage to slip past the noise of the jamming.

"Good, good. I believe we have done what we can, now all that remains is to wait and see." Nemonole promptly suffers a moment of extreme vertigo, and when they come to, they are strapped to their chair and the launch is about to start. Right, nothing left to do until orbit is achieved, and then a long trip through which their radio communication equipment, as the primary point of contact with Earth, will likely be the only external source of entertainment.. It'll be a long several months being a glorified radio station host..

[helmacon]

N.E.M.O. - New Existance on Mars Organization

Earth-Chan Memorial System (E.M.S.)

Spoiler: Earth-chan Memorial System (E.M.S.) (click to show/hide)

The Earth-chan Memorial System is a set of designs made to remember and pay homage to the beautiful planet we left behind, as well as keep us alive.
Essentially, a bioregenerative system capable of feeding our colonists both in space and on planet, the E.M.S. also performs the functions of keeping us supplied with clean air and recycling water. On ship, this takes the form of waste collection and storage systems (Essentially just pressure vacuum operated toilets and a few tanks) which feed into a series of hydroponics that line the walls of the ship after basic treatment. The hydroponics are sealed inside inflatable greenhouses, with LED sunlamps. These will cover most of the interior of the ship, with sleeping areas built into a single central pillar of the ship. Colonists will also be strapped into these areas during the launch and landings. Additionally, the ships contain basic fire-suppression systems, and atmospheric controls for temperature and humidity, as well as additional O2 scrubbers for removal of CO2 and water vapor which is again stored and fed back into the greenhouse systems. The Hydroponics themselves use a nutrient film technique which sees two main source pipes for the water which is pulled down staggered side channels and into a single exit pipe in the center. Due to the lack of gravity in space, the movement of the water is facilitated by a pressure system created by a pump. To prevent escape, a porous substrate creates the seal under the plants themselves, more akin to a wicking system. Replacement materials are carried onboard if exchange should be necessary during the journey, but they will be unnecessary once planet side as even nominal uniform gravity will provide the same role.  The exit pipe is recalled to a treatment tank via a water pump (which due to the low gravity of mars and in space requires only minimal power to effectively operate.). Where it is filtered once again to either be returned to the human side of the system or into the hydroponics again. The greenhouse seals themselves also contain air pumps which will move Oxygen and CO2 to the people and plants respectively. They may also be opened via a zipper (Whoes design is lifted from dive suits, and as such air/water tight) to retrieve fully grown plants for consumption or perform maintenance on the hydroponics/replanting.
Once planet side, the rockets are modified to be more dedicated to food production. They are moved into lateral positions, and the top 180 degrees of the rocket is removed, and the greenhouse covers are moved to seal off the entire rocket from the outside while still letting in sunlight. They are suspended between metal ribs, maintaining the shape of the original rocket. A Filter is attached at the 180 degree cut that removes as much of the more harmful radiation as possible, leaving light at only 400 – 700nm. (the activation wavelengths for most chlorophylls and carotenoids.) The additional hydroponics tubing removed is repurposed to hold algae populations which due to more r selected adaptations and shorter lifespans can persist under much higher radiation exposures. These will be grown under full Martian sunlight on the upper half of the rockets, above the filter. (though obviously still within sealed atmospheres.) This will separate and specialize our food and oxygen production, hopefully making them more efficient. For every 2 greenhouse rockets, one will be kept fully sealed and under sunlamps to act as a nursery rocket. (with a minimum of 1) Seedlings will be germinated here so as to establish the plants before they are exposed to higher radiation in the greenhouses. (radiation has far less effect on established plants than seedlings) Water and nitrogen harvested from the surface of mars will supplement these hydroponics systems, (which will continue to recycle with as much efficiency as possible) and eventually allow for their expansion. **All crops used in this system will be sourced from Valandos for its natural radiation resistance it has developed.

This is to be used in the project N.E.M.O. rockets.

I will be on board the rockets to assist in in-flight modifications/repairs as well as conversion of the system once planetside. 

[Powder Miner]

Nader Jabal set his Tiger's Roar down on his desk, and a wide grin grew behind his mask. These stupid sons of bitches thought they knew how to lay a trap. They thought they knew to lay a trap on him. On him! Nader knew how to lay traps -- it'd been a core piece of his existence for years now, after tall. Whenever he was sitting at home, at his desk, and his mind was suddenly alight with a way that the Nazis or the Arstotzkans or the Soviets or the Cannalans or some other secret group of assassins could get in, a way that of course others would call impossible, because they didn't know, they didn't think like he did, they--

Nader's train of thought ran to an incoherent, stuttering stop as his own internal rambling went past him. He-- oh, he really couldn't afford to be like this right now. Well, the point was, he had spent years considering how to place traps in ways conventional and unconventional, because it had been one of his best ways of comfort. If he could never ever be totally safe, maybe he could at least be able to make it so attempts to kill him would deal casualties and take time.

"And now you sons of bitches think you can spring a trap on me, huh? Well I've got something for you..." Nader mumbled for a few moments as he stepped outside, wrenching a Horsekiller II off of a wall with a loud grunt. He had spent several minutes in a tense radio conversation with his own compatriots, and a few others -- two of whom he had seen house-arrested, and one of whom he would never have expected to get help from in the first place. It was almost enough to give Nader pause, even; he'd viewed Kot always as nothing more than some driven Arstotzkan madman, but Kot had been the one to warn him about what Andres was going to try. Did this mean that not everyone Nader had thought to be an implacable shadowy foe was? But he felt certain in some corner of his mind that almost everyone was out to get him, that wasn't going away either.

He'd have time to think about it later, maybe, if he survived. For now, he had to go counter an Arstotzkan-Cannalan strategy.

PLAN OF ACTION CHANGE:
I and my squad (Kashyyk, Taricus) will, instead of killing Andres, work in tandem with the military, being the spearhead that hits the Arstotzkan column from the rear and completes the envelopment of Andres' forces. I'll try to get someone else to carry my Horsekiller II, but if that doesn't work out, fuck it, I'll just use an Osprey instead. We will also not attack Kot.

[Rockeater]

Design: Support E.M.S construction as part of N.E.M.O

After that, take some "Noose" missiles and shoot anything getting too close to the NEMO rockets

[evictedSaint]

evictedSaint proudly presents:

Raafat Saves Forenia

Spoiler: Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End. (click to show/hide)

Raafat Al-Hayim, arguably the most famous writer to come out of Forenia in recent years, made his way down one of the many lavishly decorated halls in his expansive mansion.  He stepped over a fallen suit of Tiger Armor and his shoes crunched on broken glass.  The steady crunch-crunch-crunch was paired with a periodic squish as the ruined rug was pressed empty of water with each step.  He ignored the black stains that licked their way up the wallpaper and his soot-stained footprints marked his progress towards the kitchen.  He'd invested in a sprinkler system after the first three or four attempts at burning his house down had failed, and while it did little to deter vandals it did mean he didn't wake up to the smell of smoke as often.  He'd yet to clean up after the latest attempt at arson, but given the circumstances it seemed excusable.

More broken glass greeted him in the kitchen.  Ah, so the sound he'd heard last night had been another brick going through the window.  That was a relief - bricks, at least, aren't flammable.  The cool breeze blowing in through the shattered window made him shiver, so he made himself a quick meal and absconded to the study. 

A gas fireplace (using safe, fire-proof asbestos) gave the study warmth, but it was the books lining the walls that gave it the comfortable coziness he adored so much.  Raafat settled into the plush armchair seated behind the walnut desk and took a sip from his bowl of soup.  He'd forgotten to grab a spoon before he left, so the scalding liquid scoured the taste buds from the tip of his tongue.  He hissed, blew on it, and took another less painful sip.  A typewriter sat eagerly on his desk with a fresh sheet of paper standing in the carriage, poised as though ready to strike should Raafat's fingers stray too close.  It was for that reason he pointedly ignored it.

He wasn't in the mood to write.  For reasons even he himself couldn't explain, he'd started a new series - a sequel to the original Wands Race saga, "Wands Race 2: World at War".  He'd only released the first book thusfar, setting the political landscape and characters of the new series as well as answering a few questions about the nature of magic that fans had long speculated about.  Already fans had picked sides and argued at length about the eventual conclusion of the series, even growing violent on several occasions.  Raafat had hoped to avoid such militant stances by setting the series in fictional countries this time, but...well.  Fans tend to get pretty attached to nations in the Arms Race series.

Like, really attached.

The distant tinkle of shattering glass in the distance made him frown.  Another vandal upset about the conclusion of his first series - or maybe just a simple rioter - must have shattered another window somewhere.  With today being All Saint's Day and the conclusion of the war at hand you would think these people would have better things to do, but apparently that was not the case.  Raafat wasn't terribly concerned by the noise.  If it was just another brick, then there was nothing he could do by leaping up to go after it.  If it was a looter, he'd just replace whatever they stole.  If it was another would-be arsonist, the sprinkler system would take care of it.  And if they were there for him...well, he couldn't exactly blame them.  He checked on the AS-SP30 9 mm handgun in his desk drawer and made a mental note to get another box of ammo delivered.  He was down to his last magazine.

With an overwhelming sense of nihilism, Raafat turned on the radio to drown out the sound of vandalism and flipped through the channels.

“...omrades of Arstotzka!

Today, the enemies, both old and new, are plotting the destruction of our country! I have credible information that there is a Cannalan plot to not only destroy the Continentalist regime, but also kill Arstotzkans, so that there would be no one opposing their oppression! We would be exchanging a treacherous regime for another regime! They are using a puppet who has not been in the country for years now, cowardly hiding while the true patriots have suffered at home! This cannot stand! You need to take up arms you have at home and go stop them from killing your fellow Arstotzkan in a trap they set up at Armoury, but most importantly, you need to make the madman Andres stop polluting the rightful Arstotzkan clay with his existence, and I shall lead you towards those goals! Goyrl to Arstotzka! Death to oppressors! Follow me to victory!”

The message faded away to static and Raafat sat in silence for maybe a minute or more.

He had been too young to fight in the war between Arstotzka and Moskurg.  He'd been born during the fighting, and his entire childhood had been beneath the looming shadow of gunpowder and gunsteel.  He could remember watching the Moskurg defenders roll giant rocket-powered boulders into positions around the city in a last, desperate measure to forestall the countless tanks on the horizon.  He could remember the abject fear as the Arstotzkans finally came.  He could remember believing, with all his heart, that the soldiers from the south were there to kill him and his family.

But then something entirely different had happened.

Arstotzkans and Moskurgs had fought side-by-side to overthrow the oppressive regimes that had kept the continent immersed in war for decades.  Together, soldiers that had only weeks ago been fighting tooth and nail had overnight liberated the continent from oppression and given birth to a United Forenia.  For the first time in generations, the people of Forenia were given the sweet taste of Freedom.

Like, a lot of Freedom.  Maybe even too much Freedom, if we were being perfectly honest.  Perhaps what you would describe as a dangerous amount of Freedom.  Like, almost Anarchy.  But not...not exactly Anarchy, you know?

Like, Anarchy-lite.

Raafat had fallen in love with this new Forenia instantly.  The invaders from the south, the Arstotzkans, weren't monsters.  They were just tired soldiers, no different from Moskurgs.  The laughed, cried, rejoiced, mourned, fought, and made peace just like Moskurgs.  Yes, some of them were bitter to have had their rightful victory snatched out from under them, but couldn't they see how much more they'd gained?  Arstotzka was no less Arstotzka for being part of Forenia.  Arstotzka still stood proud, strong, and free, and so did Moskurg.  Arstotzka had gained so much in the peace that followed, and with Moskurg the country of Forenia had grown into something amazing.

The speaker on the radio was clearly an Old-Guard Arstotzkan, but even he could see that Andres - the Boogeyman Arstotzkan Traitor - was no true Arstotzkan.  The speaker may call Arstotzka his home, but really what was Arstotzka but part of Forenia?  He may not have said it outright, but the man was fighting for Raafat's home as well.  A flicker of passion ignited in his chest.

"Death to oppressors.  Death - Death to oppressors!  Death to oppressors!"

Raafat was surprised by the sound of his own voice, but it quickly rose to a shout.

"Death to oppressors! Death to oppressors!  DEATH TO OPPRESSORS! DEATH TO OPPRESSORS!"

He stood and the bowl of soup tumbled out of his lap and spilled its contents all over the floor.  He didn't even glance at it - his mind was racing, and he was quickly growing angry.  If what the man on the radio said was true, then the country was in serious trouble.  While ambassadors chattered about peace, a plot to undermine all of it was underway.  The message had been brief, and it was possible it would go unnoticed or decried as a hoax.

But Raafat knew - knew, with every fiber of his being - what the man had said was true.

"Someone has to tell Senators," he said, his mind still reeling.  Forenian parliament was a miniature warzone, with nearly every Senator a paranoid, gun-toting soldier in one way or another.  They were people of momentous standing who commanded the respect of the people - famous veterans, engineers, verified tiger-fuckers, etc.  If anyone could scramble to the defense of the Amoury and stop the Cannalan plot, it would be them.

And this early in the morning they would be assembled at the new Unknown Soldier monument being erected outside of the city.

Raafat grabbed his gun out of the desk and sprinted out of his study.  He went full-tilt past a surprised looter and skidded into his garage.  He had a few cars, but on All Saints Day the streets would be too packed to get anywhere easily.  Instead, he headed for the back and ripped a tarp off an old rocket-boosted motorcycle.  He'd taken up the Arstotzkan sport of Rocket Racing as a teenager - he'd never won any medals, but he wasn't a rookie by any measure. 

The motorcycle purred to life like it'd been waiting for him this whole time.

"Alright," he muttered, tucking the gun into his waistband and revving the engine.

"Time for some politics."

Spoiler: Chapter 2: Remember the Fallen (click to show/hide)

The handlebars scraped a long gouge out of the paint as Raafat squeezed the bike between two cars at break-neck speed.  The impact nearly sent him tumbling, but he swerved through a nearby fruit stand and managed to stabilize.  The shouts of angry drivers and fruit merchants alike faded behind him as he zipped ahead and popped up onto the sidewalk to avoid a parked car.  He had no idea how long he had before the Cannalan plot went into effect, but he wasn't going to waste any time.  He bounced over a loose cobblestone and through a second fruit stand, then took a shortcut down an alley and frightened a pair of patchy-looking cats perched atop the trashcans.  The alleyway proved to be a bad choice, however - Raafat popped out on the street into the middle of stand-still traffic. 

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he snapped, twisting the handlebars to the right and going up the sidewalk.  Alas, it was no use - there were too many people out for All Saint's Day, and he was barely moving faster than a light jog.  There had to be a faster way!

And then he saw it.  A flat-bed truck, with the rear lowered just enough that he could pop up on it if he hit it with a wheelie. 

"Clear way!" He shouted, waving his arms.  A few people stepped back, and that was all the room he needed.  With the squeal of rubber on cobblestone, Raafat leaned back and effortlessly wheelied onto the flatbed.  He glanced over his shoulder at the car behind him and mouthed the words 'sorry!' at the driver, then ignited the rockets.

The backblast instantly scoured the paint off the hood of the car and Raafat's bike went sailing up the angled bed of the truck and into the air - with him barely clinging on.  The bike went a respectable distance, and a few of the people on the sidewalk even clapped, but eventually he had to come down.  The bike landed with a crunch on the roof of one of the cars further down the road, but that was far enough.  Raafat turned and revved the bike (now squeaking alarmingly) onto the sidewalk and down another alley.  Ahead of him he could see the countryside, and in the distance a newly-erected monument surrounded by a crowd of people.  Without any time to waste he gunned the engine and blasted through a third fruit stand and towards Forenia's last hope.

The bike was coughing black smoke when he more-or-less drifted into the crowd of Forenian Senators. Raafat let it fall over as he dismounted, but no one even glanced his way.  Up ahead, an enormous tarp was draped over a giant statue of some kind.  He stumbled his way over to the closest Senator as a speaker on the podium finished his speech.

"...funded largely in part by the Put A Rocket On It Party and Al-Fahad Home and Safety Firearms Inc.  Now, without further ado, may I present...the Unknown Soldier."

The tarp fell away to reveal a black metal statue of a Forenian soldier decked out in full Tiger Armor standing at least thirty feet tall.  In each hand the statue effortlessly held a Horsekiller Mk II, and as the applause started a stream of rockets blasted out of the tips and exploded in a jaw-dropping display of fireworks.  Raafat grabbed the nearest Senator and spun the man to face him.

"CANNALA!  CANNALA IS COMING, ANDRES BETRAYED - "

"OH YES!" The Senator said, his voice tinny through his own set of Tiger Armor.  "YES, I AM AMAZED AS WELL!  MONEY WELL SPENT, I SAY!"

It was no use! No one could hear him over the applause and fireworks - even now, a few of the Senators were turning to shout at each other, further increasing the din.  Raafat looked up at the statue, and the statue seemed to look back at him.  For Forenia, it seemed to whisper.  For Forenia.

"For Forenia," Raafat muttered, shoving his way to the podium.  He reached the stage without anyone bothering to stop him and clambered up.  He turned to face the crowd and wondered if he was going to have enough time to regret this if it didn't work out.  Hands trembling, he pulled out his SP30 and pointed it into the air.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

He emptied the clip, and as the slide locked back in place he found himself staring down the gun of every Senator in attendance.  There was enough firepower pointed at him to turn a Bjorn to Swiss cheese.  Carefully, as to avoid making any sudden moves, Raafat set the empty gun down.  As if rockets were capable of understanding dramatic timing, the stream of fireworks cut out.  Off to the side a man wearing a PAROI pin swore and fussed with a box of wires by the base of the statue.

This was it.  His big moment.

"Senators!"  He said, his voice mercifully not cracking.  Raafat wet his lips nervously.  For Forenia.

"Senators of Forenia! Lend me your ears!"

"I'm about to lend you a .60," one grizzled veteran shouted back, the barrel of his HKMKII wavering unsteadily in Raafat's general direction.  He closed his eyes and steeled his nerves.

For Forenia.

"Treachery!  Cannalans have deceived us!"  This earned the sudden, keen interest of the crowd, and Raafat couldn't help but feel like he'd just bought himself a few more seconds of life. 

"Even as they sue for peace and take everything we've fought for, they plot!  This morning - " Raafat briefly wondered if he should explain the radio message, but decided better of it.  " - I received on very good authority that Cannala military has been working with Andres - " That name earned a few angry murmurs. " - with Andres to overthrow the Forenian government!  They are planning to assault the Armoury, but it is a trap designed to kill and weaken our forces!  They intend to pave way for Cannala, so that they may install Andres as the puppet governor of Forenia!"

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"  Someone in the back shouted, and the Senators all muttered in agreement.

For Forenia.

"I...am Raafat Al-Hayim.  I am the author of the Wands Race Series."

"Moskurg scum!  You made Arstotzka lose in your books!" "They should have upgraded their tank carriage, stupid!"  "In what world would they build a high-altitude bomber for a fight in the city?!"  "WHY CAT PEOPLE?"  "Railroaded Moskurg to victory!" "BIASED!"  Shouts broke out as the Senators turned their guns on one another.  Raafat blinked with surprise.  He didn't know his books were so popular among politicians.

The mood soured instantly as violence threatened to break out over the book series yet again.  It was time Raafat put this to bed once and for all.

"YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY ARSTOTZKA LOST?" He shouted, pounding his fist on the podium.  All eyes were back on him once more.  "You want to know why?  I'll tell you why.

"I wanted Moskurgs to know what it was like to have a victory snatched out from under you."

Silence.

"I wanted them to see what it was like to have a victory, and for a United Forenia to result from it.  And I wanted Arstotzka to know what it was like to lose.  The despair.  The relief as annihilation is barely forestalled.  I wanted - I wanted to show how great Forenia can be when the two sides work together.  You remember Bjorn's duel with Hardrada?  How Hayat hunted down Mehmed?  They overthrew their oppressors!  They won, and at great cost - not fighting each other, but fighting the traitors who hoped to ruin the bright future Forenia had ahead of it!

"All of that - all of it! Will be lost if we do not fight for Forenia.  Moskurg will be exterminated, and Arstotzka will be little more than a Cannalan puppet - a fate worse than death!"  The crowd murmured in agreement.

"If you will not fight for Forenia, if you will not fight for each other, then fight for him - " Raafat jabbed a finger at the statue behind him.  "Fight for the unknown soldier who died defending Forenia.  Fight for the Arstotzkans and Moskurgers who fought for all of you.  If for no other reason, fight because - because - because fuck Cannala!"

"FUCK CANNALA!"  The politicians, all armed to the teeth, shouted their agreement.

"Fuck Cannala!"

"FUCK CANNALA!"

"Fuck Cannala!"

"FUCK CANNALA!"

Raafat could feel the podium vibrating as the crowd worked themselves into a frenzy.  A boom echoed, and for a moment he thought the PAROI member had gotten the rockets working again, but the sound was all wrong.  It was too distant.  The bottom fell out of his stomach as he saw a cloud of smoke rise out of the city in the distance.  The plot was already under way.  He'd been too late.

The crowd of Senators turned and an angry growl built up as they saw what he'd seen only seconds ago.  Even if they took the cars and bikes the Senators had arrived in, it would take far too long to reach the city.  If the rebels and Cannalan benefactors were even remotely competent, they would have captured the Armory by the time they got there. 

But what if they didn't drive?

"Hey," Raafat turned to the PAROI member nearby who was still fussing with his wires.  "Isn't there an air base near here? Uh, 'Al-Safi Air Base'?"

The young rocket enthusiast looked up at Raafat long enough to nod.  "Yeah, it's just a couple miles south of here.  Why?"

Raafat narrowed his eyes.

"Because I think it's time we got parliament in session."

Spoiler: Chapter 3: Old Friends (click to show/hide)

"Jibreel! Jibreel, come look, we having guests.  Entire Forenian government has come to sayings hello!" Lance Corporal Nikita Kuznetsov didn't bother to stand up out of his chair as Raafat and the mass of politicians piled out of cars and off bikes.  The base was lightly staffed, with most of the Forenian military still in the field.  Jibreel, Kuznetsov's Moskurg paratrooper comrade, poked his head out of the hanger and lifted his eyebrows. 

"Nikita, you did not tell me we would be having company.  I would have shaved.  I look shameful."  Jibreel lifted his HKMKII over his shoulders and went to stand next to Kuznetsov.

"You always looking shameful.  You needing to grow proper beard, like Arstotzkan."

"No, no, no, beard hairs get caught in bolt.  Is no good for fighting."

Raafat didn't wait for them to finish talking.  He explained the situation quickly, and by the way Jibreel and Kuznetsov's faces hardened he could tell they were not pleased by the news.

"Cannalan soldiers in capitol," Jibreel said quietly, his fingers tightening around his giant gun.  Kuznetsov, for once, said nothing.

"We need to commandeer a few planes and parachutes.  I need to get the Senators back into the city as soon as possible.  And...uh...maybe some....smaller guns.  I don't think most of these guys can drop in full Tiger Armor."  At that, the two paratroopers glanced at one another knowingly.

"We have just the right thing for these problems.  Come, come look.  Dropping with Horsekiller is heavy, and parachutes are weak.  We have worked on new parachutes.  Trustfall Mark 2 parachutes.  With handles so you can steerings it like car."  The two led Raafat into the hanger, where a pile of backpacks and harnesses awaited.  "They are untested on human peoples, but workings well on goats and supply crates.  Maybes works on fat Senator too, possibly."

"This is...this is perfect!"  Raafat smiled at Jibreel and Kuznetsov in turn.  Back when he'd been working as a reporter - before he wrote the first Wands Race book - he'd interviewed the two of them at the Bleeding Gums pub.  Despite the initial rocky start, he'd become fast friends with the two.

"How soon can we get in the air?"

Kuznetsov scratched his chin and thought for a moment.  "Well...in the next ten minutes, if we had the pilots.  Looks like it'd take three Reckless Effects to get all these Senators into the air.  Jibreel and I can fly, but I don't know anyone else who can fly a clutch."

Raafat paused for a moment.  "A clutch?  Like...a car?  Because I...I mean, I know how to drive stick."

Jibreel smiled and Kuznetsov actually chuckled.

"Alright.  Let's gettings you on the runway."

Spoiler: Chapter 4: Fuck Cannala (click to show/hide)

The plane groaned alarmingly as it accelerated down the runway. 

"It won't take off.  It won't - Kuznetsov? Kuznetsov, come in, it won't take off - Kuznetsov?  Kuznetsov! It won't take off!  IT WON'T TAKE OFF - "

The Reckless Effect tilted back and the wheels lifted off the runway just as it ran out.  Raafat was pretty sure he heard the trees scrape the undercarriage as they wobbled into the sky.  The radio crackled to life.

"Haha, you are fine, friend!  Plane holdings many heavy things, including Sarukh.  It needings little extra time to take off is all."

"Then why didn't you say anything?!"

"Because if I was wrong, I would have seemed very foolish when you plow through forest.  But I was not and you did not, so we are doings fine!  For now just climb and get highers up so you don't accidentally make crater in hill."

Raafat obediently shifted the plane into third and tilted back on the stick, and the plane slowly gained altitude.  On his left and right he could see two more Reckless Effects, each moving as sluggishly as him.

"We will fly in loose formations.  When over city, you hit big button on cockpit." 

Raafat found the button he was talking about instantly.  It was big, red, covered in protective glass, and embossed with the words "DO NOT PUSH".

"Try to reach at least three thousand feets in altitude so Senators have time to open parachutes and slow down.  We reach Capitol in twenty minutes."

"Roger that," Raafat replied, sounding very awkward indeed.  In the cargo bay behind him was the last of the Senators, all wearing the new parachutes they'd built.  A few seemed a little green, but thankfully no one had puked yet.  As they'd had a bit extra space, they'd also packed a Sarukh rocket launcher into the cargo bay.  It seemed a bit like overkill, but with the original Trustfall they could safely drop it into the city for defense against the traitorous rebels.  With twenty minutes to kill and the hum of propellers drowning out any conversation, Raafat flew mostly in silence.

"I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a Moskurg," Raafat muttered under his breath, trying to match the voice he'd heard on the radio just that morning.

"What about side by side with a friend?" He replied back, to himself.

"Aye.  I could do that." 

Raafat thought for a moment.  "I should write that down."

"Al-Hayim! Quit talkings to yourself.  We are almost over city.  You see the button?"

"...yeah?"

"Push it...now!"

Without hesitation, Raafat flipped up the protective glass cover on the button and smashed it down.  Instantly, the back of the plane flew open and the Senators, their seats, and the Sarukh all go tumbling out of the plane all at once.

It was all over in the span of ten seconds.

"Let's hope new parachutes work, friend!  We've done all we can, back to base!"

Raafat stared at the open hatch in the back of the plane and thought for a long, silent moment.

For Forenia.

"I'm sorry, Kuznetsov, there's something I have to do."

Raafat steered the plane towards the ocean and unbuckled his seatbelt.  Without a pilot, it would eventually tilt and crash down into the water away from any buildings.  Raafat had told the entire Forenian government to go fight for their country - how could he do any less?  Parachute strapped to his back, he stumbled his way to the back of the plane, braced himself, and took a solid moment to think.

"I really hope I don't die.  People are going to be pissed if I don't finish Wands Race 2."

With that, he took a step back and leaped out of the plane, screaming as he pulled his parachute chord.

"FUUUCK CANNALAAAA!"

Spoiler: TLDR (click to show/hide)

1) Receive word of the plot.
2) Go to the Senators at the new monument.  Convince them to fight.
3) Go to the nearby airbase where I have friendly contacts, get three Reckless Effects. 
4) Load up Senators, paratroop them out over the Armory.  Also jump out and send plane crashing into the ocean.

Design: UF-PAR-45 Trustfall Mk2
A parachute for heavy infantry.  Steerable, and allows a soldier in full Tiger Armor to drop with a full load of equipment without injury.

[brightfractal]

N.E.M.O. - New Existance on Mars Organization
Greetings fellow Forenians I am a long time lurker of the arms race games as far back as the war of Turbados, I've decided to participate in this finale for the intercontinental war.

Thermionic Heat Excess Electromagnetic Radiator - THEER
THEER is a device that radiates heat in order to maximize efficiency of the Thermionic Reactor by generating temperature differences and radiating excess heat. The device is a panel that radiates heat via aluminum heat pipes. Heat pipes are self-contained unit using a working fluid that vaporizes and then condenses giving up heat in the process, this continues on in a cycle where it circulates between the cold and hot ends of the chamber. In layman's terms it uses the difference between hot and cold to transport heat via vaporization of fluid. The working fluid is water or an equivalent. The mass is approximately 5 kg/m2 with an emissivity of 0.85; usable temperature range is limited by the softening point of aluminum. Aluminum can easily be replaced making it effective, cheap, sturdy and mass efficient, perfect for the rigors of long term space travel. THEER is an upgrade to existing cooling systems.
ACTION:

Use a Boot submarine to smuggle nuclear material in the ensuing chaos for the fleet and join Kot in his quest to kill Andres and protect the N.E.M.O fleet. After the ensuing battle attempt to get on a N.E.M.O rocket if possible, if not regroup with the other Forenians and then steal a vehicle capable of escaping to the United States.

[Man of Paper]

Wrote this up and apparently went to sleep without posting...

Operation: TeleVisionary

Step 1: Produce BEES
Step 2: Distribute BEES
Step 3:
Step 4: PROFIT!

BEES is a box filled with various cathode-ray tubes, speakers, and various other components necessary to make the first widely available fully electronic color television! The project lead, one Dr. MoP, siphoned as many resources as he could towards his personal project, paying almost no attention to the war going on around him. He doesn't care about who wins or loses, just as long as he can get a BEES! in as many homes as possible (and moneys in his wallet). The television is meant to last a few years, has multiple channels cycled through via a dial, with a second dial controlling volume. Each BEES also comes with a pair of antenna in order to receive signals.

[Iris]

UFS-SSBN-45 "Wolfpack"

A proper nuclear sub, designed to show the world exactly what Forenia is capable of and final proof that Forenia can into navy. It's powered by a high-efficiency lead-bismuth cooled fast nuclear reactor, and all plans have been shared with NEMO to aid nuclear research. The submarine itself is about 100m long, in a standard teardrop shape with a six compartment design, with two waterproof Noose launch tubes and six torpedo tubes (four in the bow and two in the stern) carrying an entirely new torpedo - the UF-TPD-45 "Sea Fox". It's a very large torpedo by Forenian standards, holding a large warhead and a lot of fuel, and it has such novelties as wire-guidance. The submarine is also capable of dropping Whalesong mines. The hull is made primarily of titanium, allowing it to submerge to great depths. The Wolfpack is moved by a single shrouded propeller, which is capable of sizable speed but primarily optimized for stealth. It has a jury-rigged active sonar system, as well as an upscaled Boot sonar allowing more precise tracking. The crew complement is about fifty.

Action: Sink El Prez, then sit in Cannalan shipping lanes until they give up and cede the proper Forenian islands of Tereshkova, Saint Oros, and Titan.

[NAV]

Roaring Whispering Burning Armoured Tiger Tiger Tiger Tiger Tigers
I have been secretly raising and training Tigers. Literal fucking orange and black striped members of Panthera tigris. Raising and training them from birth to hunt and kill anyone who smells of rum.

Give each one a custom suit of Tiger Tiger Armour. Bulletproof manganese steel armour that can deflect anything short of an anti-materiel rifle round. Except with BETTER COVERAGE and THICKER PLATES and MORE SLOPING because tigers are just better and stronger than humans. I will also augment the Tiger's claws and fangs with sharpened steel.

Every suit of armour should have a modified Tiger's Roar radio and Tiger's Whisper jammer on its back. The radio will transmit the literal sounds of the tiger's roars to any radios in the area. The Tiger's whispers will jam any communications that don't come from a modified Tiger's Roar. I don't care about any AM/FM encryption whatever bullshit, just make it work.

Every Tiger will also have an automated Burning Tiger flare/chaff system mounted on their back. This will prevent anyone from using anti-aircraft missiles effectively against the tigers.

I will get an L-1 Tiger Truck with a giant cage on the back and fit as many of these war tigers in it as I can. I will drive to wherever in Forenia the most Cannalan's are, and I will set them loose.

[Chiefwaffles]

N.E.M.O. - New Existence on Mars OrganizationUF-ER-45 "Digboy"

The ER-45, an underground excavation vehicle, was originally an underground (heh) project intended to help Forenia push Cannala off of our rightful land. But the initial proposal got little support and was quickly co-opted by N.E.M.O. for their uses instead.

Powered by a relatively modest array of batteries with a long cable connection through the dug tunnel to another power source, it can burrow underground and under large pressure. It has a radio for communication where possible, and for other areas where radio fails communication is run through the same set of cables that power's run through.
It of course has a giant drill on the front designed to dig tunnels the size of the ER-45. In addition to the small cockpit, power, and other mentioned features, it contains a cargo space and internal small refinery where the gathered materials via digging can optionally be gathered into where they're refined into viable materials for use in construction of parts, buildings, and other objects elsewhere. It has a basic life support system and is environmentally sealed, but without a cable connection to a proper life support system it has a rather limited time before running out of air.
The refinery can be removed to expand the cargo space, and passengers can optionally sit inside the cargo space. The ER-45 is equipped with treads, and can deploy radio beacons to use in conjunction with an odometer for navigation and coordination of digging.

Several ER-45s are to be loaded onto NEMO cargo rockets and, and will dig out space underground on Mars for NEMO usage, and gather materials for whatever things need materials.


Rayiys Alfatayir, born to Moskurg in the first war and raised by Arstotzkan parents, sat tapping his fingers together anxiously in his shop. That is, he was sitting in the small hole in the wall in a Forenian city excitedly labeled "BOOKS". Sometimes it even had a visitor! How neat. Some people say it used to be a waffle shop, but those people are wrong. He sat in his shop, waiting for the handful of holiday visitors.
But instead of visitors, Alfatayir got an exciting broadcast about rebellion or something on a radio he'd lost previously in the chaos of his little shop. He swore that he'd find the accursed piece of communications equipment someday, but for now the amateur novelist knew it was time to act! The N.E.M.O. project that he got invited to (surely for his amazing talent in imagining the impossible) would be launching any time now. With his contribution stored in some of the rockets. The UF-ER-45 Digboy. Which was totally not based off of a reader contribution to a past novel. It was entirely original, thank you.

He wanted to monopolize the novel market on Mars without his arch-nemesis Raafat Al-Hayim. Even if said arch-nemesis doesn't seem to notice Rayiys' presence already. And if Rayiys were to accomplish this goal, he'd have to get on a rocket. The entrepreneur ran to the houses of people who sometimes ordered his books and gave them each a rousing pro-Forenian and anti-rebellion speech (so rousing, to record it here would be impossible). After getting something like 6 whole people along with their personal armaments, Rayiys began the next step of his plan.
A dilapidated garage in outskirts of the city. It was here that he stored his prototype Digboy. The only one not currently on a rocket about to launch for Mars.

Rayiys Alfatayir knew what he had to do. He'd tunnel into the ground before reaching the National Armory, then breach onto the surface to unload the crack squad of troopers within. Overall, it wouldn't be much, but the surprise of a vehicle suddenly emerging from the ground in a flanking position should be helpful? Maybe? Hopefully? Please?
After this, Rayiys would go back underground to get away safely before ditching the prototype for a more practical vehicle. Like a motorcycle. Obviously a motorcycle. He would then make his last-ditch effort to get on board one of the N.E.M.O. passenger rockets before launch.

Action: Use my own personal digboy to unload a small squadron of people in a flanking position to help the Forenians at the Armory. Then get to safety, ditch the digboy for a more sane vehicle, and desperately try to get onto a N.E.M.O. passenger rocket.

[andrea]

NEMO mission plan - introductory pamphlet

Dear citizen, if you are reading this you are on your way to join man's first endeavour among the stars themselves. At the same time, it is likely a time of chaosand danger, so we urge you and your family to stay calm, orderly and well armed. The part below describes our plan with all the details you will need to begin your new life.


Step 1) Gather your belongings and any family member you may wish to save. Then proceed to the northern dock of the capital, where you will find a guard post. By presenting this paper, you will be granted entry. Due to the dangers posed by guns in space, it is strictly forbidden to bring anything above 20 mm caliber. Leave anything in excess to that to the guards, who will use them to protect the docks and the launch.

Step 2) At this point you might see several tall metallic buildings a few miles off the coast. Do not fret! they are your destination. A ferry will carry you toward the fleet and then you will be assisted in boarding together with an hundred and some other brave souls. Once aboard, a NEMO officer will start instructing you on the details of life on board and you may be assigned some minor duties for the good of the communty. Further vocational programs will be available during transfer

Step 3) Find your assigned pocket and strap inside. A comfortable pipe will be available to latch the provided buckles and belts. After everyone is boarded and systems are checked, or after a suitably inconvenient emergency occurs, the rocket will light its engines and lift off. The acceleration will be felt not unlike in an airplane an just as safely. You will hear some noise, of severe volume. However, in your pocket you will also find the provided notepad and pencil with which to communicate in case of hearing damage. You will hear 2 explosions happening during the ascents, after which the engine noise will suddenly stop. That is the rocket leaving its empty tanks and excessive engines behind. In case of a third such explosion, retreat in your pocket and wait for instruction by your local NEMO official or personal deity.

Step 4) After burning down most of the stored propellant, you will be en route to Mars. You will be on board of the fastest object ever built, but the solar system is also far bigger than any distance humans have yet explored. You will, in fact, take about 7 months to reach Mars. During the journey you will be provided rationed food and water, with limited cloth changes and the occasional personal cleaning. As the explorers of yore, discomfort is a necessary part of adventure. Still, thanks to our amazing life support system you may still eat fresh vegetable a few times during the journey, while at the same time enjoying actual air and mostly pure water. All this will require a little bit of extra work however: the reactor which provides power to the fleet is in a single rocket, while electricity is needed everywhere. Donning the NEMO standard issue survival suit, a team of engineers will run cables connecting the ships to allow transfer of power and communications. Large flexible tubing will also be attempted to allow transfer between ships without the survival suit.

Step 5) At this stage, you should see a large red disc quickly approaching. That is Mars. The power cables and rubber tubes will be removed and stored safely, then landing preparation will start. Once again, please stay in your pocket unless assigned to a critical task.  Things may be heated for a while, so keep your ice pack handy. The spaceship will enter the atmosphere and quickly lose its speed. A parachute will deploy to stabilize it in a vertical orientation, then the engines will fire a last time to land. Welcome to Mars!
If you wish to call home, The fleet's Babel radio has sufficient range to send the occasional message.

Step 6) Digboys will be lowered on the surface and begin tunneling, linked to the generator (plugs provided at the base of the starship). They will start digging habitats to transfer the population and equipment. The caves will be sealed and homes built thanks to the digboy in-built refinery.

Step 7) The rockets will be split in haf and turned into greenhouses over the next year, to provide food for the colony. Infastructure in the tunnels will be completed. Water and minerals from Digboys will provide all that is needed for industry, expansion of the EMS system, and fuel for the generator.

Step 8) with food, water, shelter and resources set up, the future is in your brave, strong hands!

Step 9) The designs for this operation were left in trusted NEMO affiliated hands on Earth. Keep Mars in good shape and clean your silverware! Visitors may be coming when the political climate allows.

[dgr11897]

N.E.M.O. - New Existence on Mars Organization
Assist NEMO rocket construction and launch. Possibly through design and use of exoskeletal mechanized enhancement devices, construction variant (Heavy load lifter power armor)

[stabbymcstabstab]

UF-RFT-1945 "Liquidizer"


The Liquidizer also known as Very Much a War Crime, is the most advance Flamethrower style device in existence, combining a napalm-style fuel mixed with large excessive amounts of finely crushed uranium dust, the Liquidizer fires from a very long barrel attached to fuel tanks. Which are in turn attached to a set of lead lined Tiger Armour, over top a chemically treated and fully sealed uniform and gas mask. The Liquidizer while seemingly a simple terror weapon, has been discovered to have the (un)fortunate side effect of liquidizing the organs, eyes, and skin of any poor soul who happens to be near the flames caused by it's firing.


For my plan I will assist Powder Miner and the other true Forenia Loyalists with their plans as much as I can, and if that fails America sounds like such a lovely place to escape too.

[auzewasright]

[insert code here] “Boomer”

The boomer is a jet powered and propelled hovertank. For weapons, it has 3 autocannons and 2 rocket launchers, as well as slots for whatever somebody else wants to use. It is built with Titanium and Vanadium steel. For armor, it uses ERA just for fun and is built to hopefully not explode with one shot from a BB gun. It has radio, a targeting computer, and the works as peripherals go. If there is time, it is built to handle running on Vodka and Alcohol in general as well as gasoline. Oddly enough, it’s temperate gauge is in Rankine, It’s weight is in kilograms, but the instruction manual is in the Deseret alphabet. In short, it is hard to tell whether it’s designers were too drunk or not drunk enough.

Action: use hovercraft to do a hit and run of the official and local army, work with ES & co to screw over Cannala. Before all this, try to see if any others want to help operate. If not, get at least two people ASAP before anything else.

[Sensei]

The Final Battle: Midnight, November 1st, 1945

The graveyards in Forenia are lit with candles and now, the city is lit with gunfire. The Forenian Parliament has become a rebel stronghold, and there are pockets of Arstotzkan rebellion appearing everywhere. Now the rebels move to capture the Capitol Armory, which will allow them to control the city. The Cannalans are joining the rebels in support of the coup, but at the same time, their own president is moving out to sea to avoid an assassination attempt. The engineers stand ready with prototype equipment, to make their mark on history or die trying. This is what everything in the war has built up to. You may now read each other's threads as well, there are links to people's designs in their original location.

The Forenians

Zanzetkuken the Great has been building a weapon of vengeance against Cannala. He listened to the sounds of distant battle on the radio, and felt detached. To him, although the Forenian union was preferable, it didn't matter as much who won the civil war as much as it mattered that Cannala would stay out. To that end he would scorch the very Earth, and salt their fields. [5] Working in secret, he had cultivated multiple mutated strains of the original Red Rot, with varieties capable of affecting wheat, barley, rice, and other staple crops. [6] The plan had remained secret this whole time, and he had amassed enough supporters to send three submarines and three planes to Cannala, which were on their way now. Initially he had set out for Cannala under the guise of a "peacekeeping mission" and even had his planes refuelled at a Cannalan airstrip, but with the battle breaking out, the Cannalan border itself might be a problem. The planes had already turned around under threat of missile fire, but Zanzetkuken himself was aboard one of the subs. Continued at Zanzetkuken's Plan.

10ebbor10 has set his sights directly on the Cannalan fleet offshore. He had no trouble finding Forenian seamen eager to join in his project, the Megalodon. [3] A proper successor to the Boot, the Megalodon is a submarine built with Forenia's submarine experience and consultants which he had brought in from Germany, in exchange for a "Forenian Pardon" from the Nuremburg trials- a fake death certificate backed up by a story about a plane crash while traveling to Forenia, and a full set of identifying papers under a new name. Guided torpedoes originally called for had to be substituted for ones that were wire-guided for the first kilometer and a half. Still the submarine was more than twice the size of a Boot, more than twice as fast, could stay underwater for far longer and far deeper (if the calculated results of the design were accurate- it hadn't been tested) and had eight torpedo tubes. This wasn't a groundbreaking sub by German standards, but the Cannalan fleet lacked even basic sonar defenses. 10ebbor10 admired his work for a minute in the dock before the last of the crew got aboard, then followed them in himself. "Seal the hatches!" someone shouted. "Full speed ahead!" "Dive, dive!" "Walrus sighted, fire Tube Eight and steer the torpedo forty-five degrees!" He watched with satisfaction as the crew did his work for him. [3] The torpedo they fired struck a Walrus lander just short of the shore, leaving it beached in shallows where it couldn't deploy Bull tanks. Already off to a good start. And what's more, there was a whole fleet of subs behind him:
Happerry sets off right behind ebbor in his Big Boot. [4] While Happerry's submarine isn't a big advancement over the Boot in general performance, he has a far more advanced sonar system, which is accurate enough that with communication from allies to confirm a ship's identity, he can fire torpedoes at an enemy target from below periscope depth. He lags behind ebbor a little bit on the way out of the harbor, but catches up as ebbor slows down to target a Cannalan ship near the shore: Happerry is going straight for El Presidente's ship.
PirateJoe's UFS-SSN-45 "Zingel" [4] is the largest submarine ever constructed, at 120 meters in length. [1] Unfortunately, it's deprived of its original intended power source, a nuclear reactor, as competing submarine designer Iridium64 [6] got to the last of Forenia's leftover uranium first. It has been refitted with a respectable diesel-electric drive, allowing it to make decent speed. A single main propeller provides thrust and two smaller propellers can be run at independent speeds for maneuvering. It also has a large rudder, rear planes, and fore tower-planes. It's armed with improved Narwhal torpedoes, which have more range, larger warheads, and an experimental acoustic seeking system. He sits initially at periscope-and-snorkel depth. Continued at The Battle at Sea.

Iridium64 was last out of the harbor with his UFS-SSBN-45 "Wolfpack". It was similar to Piratejoe's but with a few special features: Iridium's version of improved torpedoes were the largest by far, and used wire guidance as well. It also sported waterproof Noose launchers as well, to defend the submarine against air threats, and a mine layer. Most of all, it had a nuclear reactor as its primary power source. It had taken a little extra time to set the reactor up before deploying for battle, but the results were immediately satisfying: the entire submarine hummed with electric power, and the undersea beast glided silently forward on its single propeller. [1] Iridium's joy at seeing his submarine in action was quickly cut short. There was a loud “boom” which echoed through the ship. He picked up the intercom speaker and tried to reach the reactor room, but got no response, and left the bridge to see for himself. A panicked crew member met him half way: "Captain! The cooling system has failed! A pipe is burst and there is coolant in the control room, we cannot remove the fuel!" Iridium replied, "Oh? We'll see just how bad it is!" He wasn't about to give up his reactor without a fight. Its construction had required him to work in secret since Forenia first acquired uranium from Vlanlados.
 He put on some heavy rubber waders, thick gloves, a lead apron and a gas mask before moving on to the reactor room. When he opened the door, he was blasted with steam, burning his arms which weren't heavily covered. The heat kept coming, and it was impossible to see inside, so he closed the door again. As much as it stung him, he had to make the decision: He ran back to the bridge and shouted "Surface! Immediately! We have to abandon ship!" The crew obediently flipped the switches which would empty the ballast tanks. [3] He did not come a moment too soon: the power went out moments after he set the sub on a course for the surface, leaving the crew in the dark. Not long thereafter the Wolfpack emerged lifelessly at the surface, its interior beginning to fill with smoke. The crew evacuated to the deck, eagerly looking for a way off the ship. It would not be long before the core would begin to melt down. Continued at The Battle at Sea.


Urist Mc Dwarf had a head start on the fleet, not in a Submarine, but a Salamander: his Poison Salamander [5] included tear gas canisters, and a flamethrower as the main weapon. So armed, he charged directly at the ship carrying El Presidente, perhaps hoping to catch him in an evacuation. He has deployed from a larger Forenian ship already at sea, placing him somewhat closer than the submarines leaving from the shore. Continued at The Battle at Sea.

Andres watched the Arstotzkan flag fly over the ministry! Ten long years he had waited to see it in a place of pride again. Not flying humbly from a stolen ship, only to be lowered in fear when another ship draws near, not sitting below the Vlanladosian flag, not sitting below the United Forenian flag, but reigning supreme over all! It was time for one last radio broadcast before setting out:

Forenia shall fall! Arstotzka shall rise once more! We conquered Forenia once and we can do so again! Join me, my fellow countrymen, and place our glorious nation back into ascendance! For peace! For prosperity! For Arstotzka!
Glory to Arstotzka!

With is loyalists behind him and the road to the Armory in front of him, he shouldered his weapon. [6] He was immensely proud of the AS-RG45. Those UF PAROI scum would be jealous. It was a large, heavy, rifle-like weapon, but instead of bullets, it fired 30mm micro-HEAT rockets. The fact that the rockets continued to accelerate after leaving the gun was the only way a mortal man could handle shooting a projectile that of that size and energy. It looked like a weapon built for a giant, its box magazine was bigger than some peoples' guns. It would be enough to make a mockery of what those Forenians had built while they spited Arstotzkan spirit. Now a group of Cannalan raiders had reached the ministry, it was time to lead them to victory, with any loyal Arstotzkans he could find on the way. Then, his radio spoke up with someone else's voice:

“Comrades of Arstotzka!

Aha! More to join the fight!

Today, the enemies, both old and new, are plotting the destruction of our country! I have credible information that there is a Cannalan plot to not only destroy the Continentalist regime, but also kill Arstotzkans, so that there would be no one opposing their oppression!

What? Lies!

We would be exchanging a treacherous regime for another regime! They are using a puppet who has not been in the country for years now, cowardly hiding while the true patriots have suffered at home! This cannot stand! You need to take up arms you have at home and go stop them from killing your fellow Arstotzkan in a trap they set up at Armoury, but most importantly, you need to make the madman Andres stop polluting the rightful Arstotzkan clay with his existence, and I shall lead you towards those goals! Goyrl to Arstotzka! Death to oppressors! Follow me to victory!”

So the rebellion is split then. He recognized that voice: even Kot, one of the greatest old Arstotzkans, had become a continentalist. ...no matter. If they stand in the way... they get the rockets. Not only did Andres' weapon shoot rockets, but the Cannalan APCs had rockets, and biggest of all, some of his men had been given radar target designators for Cannalan cruise missiles. That was a lot of rockets. Continued at The Battle for the Armory.

Powder Miner AKA Nader Jabal (Sensei recommends you read his original post!) prepared to find Andres, and kill him. He was already clad in his Rabid Tiger Armor Mk II, because he didn't trust anyone well enough to take his armor off except to sleep, in the safety of his own fortified, booby-trapped home. [1] It was cumbersome armor, only somewhat improved from its original 1935 form. He had attached a shotgun to one forearm, and an AS-AR34 with an extended magazine in the other, plus carrying a Horsekiller II on his back (more specifically, an "Al-Fahad Home and Safety Firearms Inc. Horsekiller Mk II Anti-Material/Pirate .60 Rifle"). He had originally planned to create two copies, for his fellow engineers, but the thought struck him- what if THEY betrayed him? No, he had to keep the Rabid Tiger Armor for himself. It was his edge, his advantage, anybody could backstab him and he needed it for himself alone. Before even leaving his home, he heard Kot's radio broadcast: a trap at the armory. Okay, going straight for Andres was foolish. Powder Miner, however, knew how to lay a better trap than anyone. New plan. He would strike the Arstotzkans from the rear. [1] He couldn't find any of his Forenian Independence Party men nearby- why was that? Oh yeah, they went to some celebration. Powder Miner wouldn't be seen there of course, too many prying eyes, too many guns, maybe even some Cannalans! He would simply have to hope on meeting up with some fellow engineers on the way. Continued at The Battle for the Armory.

Light Forger drove a sputtering Tiger Truck up the twisting roads outside the city, a huge veiled trailer in tow. Under that veil was his weapon. It was a good weapon. But, he was not going to use it. The truck trundled up to the gates of an airstrip situated well uphill from Forenia's capitol. Nervous guards behind sandbags leveled machine guns at him. "Hey! Buddies! Take it easy there." Gunfire and explosions echoed up into the hills from the city below. "My identification." He showed his papers identifying himself as a national weapons engineer. That could get you into most military compounds without further questions being asked, as well as some of the most exclusive clubs. The guard shouted: "Open the gate!" Light Forger brought his payload up next to a hangar. There were more guards here, and they were more serious. He stepped out of the truck, walked to the door, and flashed his ID. "Not so fast!" said a guard with dark sunglasses. "Tereshkova says she doesn't want to be disturbed." "Especially by you, again," added the other guard, a Moskurger whose Russian was poor. The first continued, "She said NOT to let anyone in unless-" "I have a new plane!" The guards looked at each other. They looked at the veiled trailer. "Fine. But just don't-" Light Forger ran through the door. "Tereshkova! Oh my god, oh my god OHMIGOD I'm SO happy to see you in person again!" "I- uh-" "...and, I'm SO SORRY about last time! I promise it won't happen again!" "Guards! Why'd you let him in here?" "He has a plane, miss." Light Forger saluted over-enthusiastically and led her outside, unhooked the veil from the trailer, and pulled it from the plane with a dramatic flourish. [5] The UFAF-ASF 'Invictus' was glorious to behold. It was a twin-engined fighter built of Titanium and Aluminum, coated in black radar-absorbing paint. Its silhouette is broken up by its sole, dedicated weapon: the "Infernace" gatling cannon, an electrically driving 20mm rotary gun with five barrels, sitting on a radar-controlled mount which rotates by up to 30 degrees. It was the last argument to prove once and for all that missiles will never surpass the capabilities of dogfighting with guns. Tereshkova phased out the sound of Light Forger's voice as he listed off every single feature and how he designed it. Simply soaked in its beauty.. "I'll fly it." "Oh, and I brought some cans of spray paint! There's this whole civil war thing going on and I wanted to choose whatever side YOU choose because you're just the best, so I didn't paint an emblem on it just yet!" Tereshkova thought about admonishing him for his lack of patriotism, but somehow, she couldn't bring herself to do it. "...give me the purple spray paint." She set about hastily painting Forenian emblems on the craft, and prepared for takeoff. As the jet sat on the runway, turbines humming, Light Forger ran up to her just before she got the canopy closed: "Wait! One last thing!" "YEAH?" Tereshkova shouted over the sound of the plane." "Can I have your autograph?" Tereshkova handed him a patch with a United Forenian star-and-swords in front of a pair wings. Written on it was "KATERINA TERESHKOVA - GENERAL - UNITED FORENIAN AIR FORCE". She had a pocket full of them. Light Forger stepped back and watched her take off.

ConscriptFive (Sensei recommends you read his original post!) has spent a while funneling money away by embezzling from prototype projects. He's built himself a ticket out of Forenia: The UFAF-MTA-45 Shepard Airliner, a Reckless Effect fitted with various luxury features. [3] Notably, the bed made from "luxurious Trustfall parachute silk" is stiff, scratchy, and uncomfortable, but the more important part: a crate of gold bars, stashed away in the plane's cargo, is real. It's painted in orange and black stripes, which mark it as a hospital plane, hopefully a better defense mechanism than any guns or flares. His plan was originally to gather some willing women from the civilian shelter and party the whole flight out of Forenia, but instead he found dozens of scared children, and decided at the last minute to have them fly out of the country instead. Staying in Forenia with only an antique Five-Shooter, he hopes for the best.

Kashyyk has equipped himself with his UF-MGL45 "Jackrabbit", a revolver-type grenade launcher which holds six 40mm shells. [2] He didn't have a lot of time to put the finishing touches on before battle, but he hoped the straightforward design would still work well.. He left his house to find his friends, Nader "Powder" Miner and Taricus. Nader was supposed to be here by now, and with a set of armor to share. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumbling: there was an enormous tank rolling down the street, and a man out the top hatch was waving at him.
Tarik 'Taricus' Karim (Sensei recommends you read his original post!) rolled up in front on Kashyyk's house in his UF-MBT-45 Demolisher tank. "Missed me?" he shouted down to Kashyyk. From another hatch emerged Ryoichi Haru Sato, an expatriate Juraki engineer and good friend of his, who slapped the top of the tank and declared with a thick accent, "Look what we built!" [5] The tank was massive; its 120mm cannon was practically an artillery piece and it roared with twin engines necessary to propel its obscenely thick composite armor and ERA plating. Kashyyk climbed aboard. [2] Behind him were a couple trucks, all he could rally on short notice of his old National Forenian Peoples' Party buddies. "Come on, let's go find Powder Miner!" Continued at The Battle for the Armory.

Olith McHuman, using uranium refinement techniques developed by Forenians working on another project, had perfected what the Forenian radar system was originally meant to be: a true Death Ray, like in the science fiction books! [6] The RDN-45 Actual Death Ray is two masses of uranium in a box with a window, equipped with a lever to push them together and spray atomic particles at anybody standing on the wrong end. Olith himself was somewhat protected by a lead-lined Tiger Armor suit. Not only will it probably Marie-Curie anybody in front of it, it also made the doorknob too hot to touch when he tried it out. Onward, for Arstotzka, and for Science! Olith had already met up with Andres, and joined in the revolutionary party. Continued at The Battle for the Armory.

Raafat "Evicted Saint" Al-Hayim (Sensei recommends you read the original post!) sat in the pilot seat of a Reckless Effect transport plane. Even as the plane was taking off, he took a moment to write in his notebook. The Great Raafat Al-Hayim didn't become Forenia's most famous author without taking inspiration from everything he did in his life, and this was a pretty exciting experience. Well, sabotaging "Chief Waffles", Forenia's other up-and-coming writer, by suggesting he include "stealth tanks" (what a stupid idea!) in his book about covert warfare also helped Raafat become Forenia's most famous author. But, the notes were good too. Raafat barely pulled the plane above the trees, and he was pretty sure he heard them scraping the undercarriage of the plane as they went by... is what he wrote in his notebook. "Hey Nikita?" "Yah?" "You ever hear of an overloaded plane hitting the trees on takeoff? Or like, scraping the tops?" "No way! We building airstrips on high ground for good reason! Like the one we took off of, was up of a big hill, you could lose altitude after takeoff and still not hitting any trees. This was one of Tereshkova's ideas, we build like that whenever it possible." Nikita looked at the instruments and carefully guided the plane to his desired heading and altitude from the co-pilot seat. A minute or so passed in silence while Raafat continued to write, before Nikita spoke up again in his flawed Arabic. "Now listenings. You can land this?" "Hell no! I can't even drive a stick. Without those hydra-matics I'd be stranded to be honest. You know, my father always said that horses were good enough..." "Listen! If you not flying, you fighting, so stop your pen-writing and get a parachute like everyone else!" Raafat picked up a parachute in his hands and looked at it: his own creation, the Trustfall Mk II. [4] "Right, I'm pretty confident it's good enough to carry basically anything and steer while falling too, but... I'd still rather not use it? Like, just in case?" "Coward! I will tell twenty people to trust life to this parachuting in one moment, and it's not good enough for you?" "Well, you see-" Raafat did not get to complete his sentence, because Nikita opened the escape hatch and threw him out by the collar of his shirt. Raafat hadn't actually had time to strap on his parachute, so he clung to it for dear life. Now in freefall, he watched a bunch of armed, somewhat intoxicated ministers drop out of the Reckless Effect's cargo door while the plane grew further and further away. He had a moment to think, and he thought to himself: "Shit." Continued at The Battle for the Armory.

NAV had spent his time raising tigers. Nothing to do with a Tiger's Roar or Tiger's Whisper radio, or Tiger Armor or Tiger Trucks or Tiger Tanks- literal fucking orange and black striped members of Panthera Tigris. No, not the Moskurg night club by the same name: actual tigers. [3] They are reasonably well trained, although plans to arm the tigers with Tiger Tiger Armor haven't worked. When any armor is actually attached to them, they usually arch their backs, begin yowling uncontrollably, and walk around backwards bumping into things, becoming increasingly combative as time goes on - sometimes you just have to wait until they collapse of exhaustion before you can remove the armor, and Nav has the scars to prove it. He had, however, successfully trained them to hunt and kill anyone or anything which smells of rum. Perhaps the old tales of tigers naturally knowing who was an enemy of Moskurg were true. [2] He drove the truck into the warzone preparing to release his tigers, but didn't get very close before accidentally driving the vehicle into a crater and getting stuck. Oh well, time to release the tigers. NAV unlocked all the cages and, limping, fled the battlefield. The tigers bounded off in seemingly random directions. Hopefully that works out well.

Kot (Sensei recommends reading his original post!) hadn't built a prototype weapon. No - he had dedicated his time to the NEMO project, and had instead chosen a few weapons from his museum of a home. He rode out now on an ancient motorcycle with rockets attached, wearing a dashing old-style parade uniform and outdated armor, armed only with an AS-SP30 pistol and an AS-RPG28A. Kot, the single most outspoken Arstotzkan Nationalist living in Forenia, was not a part of the rebellion. Nothing could forgive Andres for selling out the rebellion to Cannala. [6] Already his radio broadcast was having an effect:

“Comrades of Arstotzka! Today, the enemies, both old and new, are plotting the destruction of our country! I have credible information that there is a Cannalan plot to not only destroy the Continentalist regime, but also kill Arstotzkans, so that there would be no one opposing their oppression! We would be exchanging a treacherous regime for another regime! They are using a puppet who has not been in the country for years now, cowardly hiding while the true patriots have suffered at home! This cannot stand! You need to take up arms you have at home and go stop them from killing your fellow Arstotzkan in a trap they set up at Armoury, but most importantly, you need to make the madman Andres stop polluting the rightful Arstotzkan clay with his existence, and I shall lead you towards those goals! Goyrl to Arstotzka! Death to oppressors! Follow me to victory!”

People listened. Citizens of Forenia, Citizens of Arstotzka, many of them didn't care what they were: they all agreed Cannalans were the enemy, and they could see Andres and his party fighting alongside them. Kot rode through the city, taking a snaking path towards the sounds of gunfire to hopefully drive past as many of the Arstotzkan rebel groups that were breaking out as possible. The little flags on his hat waved gloriously behind him. He drove past a group of people in red uniforms. "Death to the Cannalans! Death to the traitors!" The next group he drove past cheered him on. "Death to the Cannalans, death to the traitors!" This time it was not Kot speaking but a chorus of men, perhaps a hundred or more. When he stopped to look behind him, he was shocked by just how many people had begun to follow him, taking the direct path to the armory while he had snaked through the city gathering people. The street was crowded, there were some AS-T34's and even a couple Bjorns. It appears the Kot family has quite the knack for gaining support. The fighting was just a few streets down, now. Continued at The Battle for the Armory.

stabbymcstabstab was putting the finishing touches on his UF-RFT-1945 "Liquidizer" when he heard the sound of bombs falling. His workshop was a safe distance away from the design bureau itself, and from the city proper. Considering the level of danger involved in normal Forenian engineering, it had taken a very insidious idea indeed to warrant being sequestered away: in an old shed, far away from anything else flammable, Stabby poured uranium powder into a fresh batch of napalm. The Liquidizer was a uranium-infused flamethrower, mounted to a set of lead-lined tiger armor to, hopefully, protect its user from ambient radiation. A large compressor whirred as it forced the maximum payload possible into two highly pressurized tanks attached to the back of the armor. Stabby strapped himself in, kicked down the door to the rusty shed which held his equipment, and fired a test burst, which dropped liquid flames almost thirty meters ahead of him. [1] As he closed the valve, the hose from the storage tank leaked and spurted a jet of radioactive napalm up and into the light fixtures. This promptly ignited, and the Liquidizer as well as all the equipment used in its creation ignited as well. This included reserve chemical tanks for mixing napalm. The entire facility went up in a fireball which could be seen for miles around. Later, stabbymcstabstab's death was recorded as being caused by a large Cannalan bomb.

auzewasright has a truly preposterous contraption, the UF-HT-45 'Boomer', an armored hovercraft. [6] The vehicle is powered by two jet engines, one of which serves the sole purpose of keeping the hover skirt inflated (and reversing the hovercraft with an extra outlet) while the other thrusts and maneuvers. It is clad in Light titanium-steel armor, but despite this, and its hover platform, it's as heavy as a medium tank. Much that weight is its armaments: it's armed with three Velociraptor autocannons, one front-facing and one on each side, with about a 100 degrees of rotation each, and then topped off with a turret mounting a pair of Sarukh rocket tubes. It has a wide base and is crowded inside with the various weapon positions and space taken up by the jet ducts. There's even (partial) ERA coverage, and a "targeting computer" which is just a static heads up display with range markings. It's overloaded by any measurement as a hovercraft, presenting a large target and, of course, not capable of traversing rubble. Yet, it moves. Auze moves to join the most concentrated fighting, hoping to pick off an enemy leader. Continued at The Battle for the Armory.