Along the shoreline of Boston harbor, a notable crowd had gathered looking out to sea. By now, Mudada had heard about the battle taking place outside the harbor; A naval battle between four countries was rocking the ocean some twenty miles out to sea. The highways into Boston had been relatively free of traffic coming in, but the outbound lane was bumper to bumper across the state. Despite state attempts to avoid a panic, people were clearly frightened; they had seen this before. The North American War of '71 had decimated the area, and now it looked like it was going to be repeated.
Mudada made his way through the crowd gathered on the shoreline, another cigarette hanging from his lips. The occasional sound of artillery fire rang from the horizon, reverberating through the crowd as a reminder of their worst memories and instilling a growing sense of fear and shock. Mudada himself, little more then a spectator to these events, wanted to see the grand fleet itself, which by then had passed beyond the point of perceptibility on the horizon. He approached a coin operated binocular viewer, one of several that lined the historic shore, hoping to catch a glimpse of the events that had stole the cities comfort.
Through the viewer, he could catch a faint glimpse; glints of light dancing on the very edge of the horizon, like distant stars resting on edge of the ocean. A flash of orange light erupted from one of these glints, followed by a lesser orange flash from another. A hit. Twenty seconds later the sound of this action reached the shore.
Mudada could have spent more time site seeing, but he hadn't went to Boston so he could watch a war. He could have done that at home. After a brisk walk along the shoreline under the festive sound of cannon fire, Mudada eventually found a payphone. He grabbed the phone and pressed a single number.
"Operator, patch me through to the state department."
The phone began started to ring, giving Mudada enough time to put his cigarette out in the coin return. Then someone picked up, giving him a generic call center line. Mudada replied...
"This is Chuma Mudada, I am with the Ethiopian... government. I would like to schedule a meeting with someone from the state department".
The line went silent, indicating that the caller had been put on hold. A minute later, the voice of a different operator was heard, and the caller had been successfully forwarded to someone who could help him. " Bureau of African affairs. How may I help you? "
(( I apologize for the shortness of this post. I also have no idea how the state department operates ( something I have to look up ), so ignore if anything sounds stupid and/or makes no sense. ))
((I'm reaaaaaly busy today guys, and I might be tomorrow as well. So I'm squeezing in this one little post, just for Hug :3 ))
United Socialist States of America.
Busy, Busy Busy... It was very busy in the White House. While the Pentagon was far more busy dealing with the mobilization of available assets for the newly started war. It was... busy. Phones were ringing and people were rushing in an organized matter to their destinations.
Then, a another phone rang. It was ignored as there were more important calls to be made, but after about 45 seconds. It was answered, by none other then the Secretary of State.
"Hm, yes? Hello? Please tell me this is some kind of good news. We're tied up here and we don't have time for non-important calls." He said tiredly into the phone. The man hasn't slept for a while, he blatantly refused to.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The world is a cold, unforgiving, maple-syrupy place for a Canadian
"Sirs," a sergeant said with a thick Russian accent, "Han Jang is on the phone."
"About time." Lou Shai Dek grumbled, raising a shot of vodka to his lips. He growled as the tasteless liquid ran down his lips.
Obviously catching the commander's agitation the sergeant the sergeant added: "He was tied up on bureaucratic business in Beijing. He didn't say any more before being put on the desk."
"Well, link him to here!" Dmitri demanded picking the phone up on the desk in-front of him, "We've burned up enough time already."
"As much as I like getting out of my office," Gou whispered in Dek's ears, "This Russian climate is getting annoying."
"Well at least we were treated enough to inspect their forces." Lou said under his breath.
"What do you think?"
"It'll be interesting." he said, "I've gave pre-orders to Jiang to begin to mobilize. Most of the heavy equipment should be prepared."
"As is the fifth armor." Gou added, "Although they're in route from Chita."
"G-" Lou Shai Dek began before being cut off.
"Han Jang, sir!" Dimitri boomed with exaggerated joy, "I imagine you've read the brief."
The two Chinese generals in the room turned their attention to Dimitri. Waiting.
"Yes I have," Han Jang said back in Beijing. The report was open on his desk with the telephone set to his ear, "This request isn't very extreme. So I think I can allocate the carrier.
"Give me a few days before I send it, I'll need to shuffle some ships from the South China Sea to the Bohai defense area where the Shun Youyu-shi will be sailing from. Based on the brief you'll be starting in a few day's time"
"That's the plan." Dimitri said
"Good. I'll order the Bohai to escort the Shun to its location and act as a guard. The cruisers NC-200 and 201 will be accompanying her also. I'll write up the orders later today and get them to Hou to sign. You'll have them passing Russia in a few day's time. I hope the ice is broken."
"It is comrade," Dimitri grinned, "you'll have no issues."
((You guys kinda moved into attack mode with Canada being right near the US forces, that being said neither of you have made any mention of my forces. Which at this time are anchored and doing nothing....))
Valanor Dimitrov stood, ready to address the people of the Russian states. He was standing before a podium, which had a microphone attached to it. Currently, this was being broadcast live all across the Komi region, perhaps even beyond that. Why not? This place for five years had been hellish, and all of that was about to end with a simple speech.
And so Dimitrov spoke:
"To all of the Russian states that have for so long awaited this moment, today is the day to rejoice! For five painstaking years, we have been suffering in this anarchy. But that ends today!" This got him a roar of applause from all those listening. He waited for it to end, then continued, "Your lives have lately been filled with the military: soldiers gave out food, soldiers regulated the streets. But now, we will no longer need soldiers to give out food, for we shall have shops open! And we shall not need them to patrol the streets, for we will have the police for that!"
The applause was like thunder. He paused, then said, "Now the peace that is to come will not be one to fool you; it is a fragile peace that shall exist in the Komi region. And there are many across the world that oppose communism altogether, which is the system that shall hold this nation together. But we must be strong, and remain ever vigilant! If we do this, then I am confident that Russia shall rise and become a glorious nation!"
The crowd was practically screaming in delight.
"My friends, the day you have all waited for has arrived! This day marks the unification of these chaotic states and the return of Russia!"
And returned it had. True, the nation of Russia was only just holding itself together, but it was a whole nonetheless. It did face challenges, such as the anti-communist ideas of the West and the rising influence of authoritarian-communist China, which already had an alliance with the Eastern half of the Russian states, but, in time, they could overcome these problems.
Something Saint Petersburg-Novgorod did not have the time nor resources to deal with. The city jail in Saint Petersburg itself was already filled with the run of the mill street scum. And the Imperial Correctional Facilities that housed many of the "political dangerous" officers and members of Radek's Saint Petersburg commune had been destroyed in the early moments of the Revolution. There were little places to house them.
Several hours after taking Arkhangelsk the victory had been reported to command. Of Alik's three-thousand men he had lost five-hundred. And the cavalry tasked to him lost double, slashing their own numbers to two thousand. It was an unexpected factor that hidden in the city the enemy had managed to operate and mobilized an armored car that engaged them as the bulk of Alik's men were beginning to cross the bridge.
But the car had been one of several last spasms made by the enemy in their stand. A grenade planted under it had broken the car, engulfing it in flames as the force of the explosion tore the gas-tank in two engulfing the cab inside in a blazing inferno. The second had occurred over the rest of the day as the red banner of Novgorod chased the hand-of-god that was Vologodia through the streets. In the late-evening they had come to a finish on the bridge leading north out of town. The rear guard setting up positions that cut up the charge of the cavalry while their comrades fled to the sea. The captain that led the cavalry regiment being slain in the action.
By the time morning came, they had stacked up bodies numbering their own casualties. But forward sharp-shooters claimed that the retreating force was sparse and thin, implying that whatever garrison in the town was starved of a defense. In his report to Saint Petersburg Alik suggested that the bulk of the forces had gone south to reinforce the border outposts. If true, the loss of the city would have alerted this men and they would soon be returning.
His own patrols reported to him the road their men had mined was recently disturbed. Lying among the wreckage lay freezing wounded. The wheels of barely-fueled trucks and horse-drawn carriages had passed along the trip-wires of their C-4, cratering the road and collapsing the high-snow bank in the vicinity. The scouts had the mercy to kill them on sight, parting them from their physical existence.
But with all said, he still needed to deal with the prisoners. His standing orders were to kill them. But in town was just too much for him.
"Take them east Lieutenant Colonel," Alik grumbled looking out over the bound bodies in the central square. He and the officers that survived had taken shelter in a small hotel. The windows provided them plenty of light while they conducted their meeting in the dark, "It's empty for miles and miles. There'll be no interference. Hang them, shoot them, drown them. But get it done and get it done right."
The young officer nodded solemnly, "I'm not comfortable with this..." he moaned, "Couldn't your men do this, here?"
Alik reared on him, "I will not!" he yelled, "I think we tore this up enough to warrant this city and the people the pleasures of witnessing execution."
He recalled gravely the public executions he had witnessed at a lower rank in Saint Petersburg's center. Largely perceived spies or Czarists to lazy or brave to leave the city.
"Our orders are to kill them." Alik continued snarling, "I will see to it this is accomplished. Bind them in a line and pull them by your horses if you need to. But by sun-down I'd like them disposed of."
The officer hesitated. He lingered there in the spot he had taken since this had started. "Your commanding officer is dead Lieutenant." Alik continued, "Until official commemorations arrive from command promoting you to fill his... saddle you'll need to take orders from me. For now. Clear?"
The young officer nodded quietly, chewing on his lower lip. "Good, now go. Boris will see to it that you finish this. You have spare horses, do you not?"
"Yes." he whimpered in return.
Alik rolled his eyes, "For ****ing god's sake lieutenant you just left battle! How could you be so concerned over being tasked with the duty of killing more of these bastards! You should be proud of yourself for putting this beast out of its misery!"
"I've never been tasked to kill men in cold blood before..." Alike hissed, "For ****'s sake I'm going to argue this to whoever comes with your new medal and notice papers. Lieutenant Colonel Boris can make a batter officer than you. And he can barely ride."
A large man in the corner of the room gave a hearty life. No doubt Boris. "Come on," he said in a low gruff voice, "Let's go clean house."
The lieutenant allowed himself to be escorted from the room by the other officer.
"Now then," Alik continued, "With that situation resolved what of Severodvinsk."
"Saint Petersburg radioed they want you to sit still." a second officer replied, "The city's under siege now essentially, but Radek and his circle doesn't want us to budge until they can spare some men. I know you're not going to comply."
"To a word I will." Alik added with a curious nod, "I'll remain here. But I want raiding and recon parties out there to check the city out and see what kind of defenses they possess. The rest of us will sit tight here. While we wait, trap the other roads leading in. We don't want any surprises like we found caught this morning."
Outside, Boris and the cavalry Lieutenant were out and rallying the men up to assemble the prisoners. "If Radek says God is dead, then I truly hope the Devil takes mercy on them." Alike commented, "And on all of us when we're through."
Leader Drake strolled down the streets of London, going to visit his brother, Admiral Richard. The city was clean and orderly, much different than what it had been ten or even five years before. Rats were still a problem, but chemicals dumped daily into the sewers kept them at bay. Drake was proud of what he had done, saving Britain from the precipice and using shrewd bargaining getting her out of the massive debt he had aquired.Finally Drake, accompanied by his guards and advisors, reacher the British Navy Headquarters.
Inside of the Headquarters Richard was already waiting, and welcomed his brother. Richard took Drake out to the massive London drydocks, where the newest ships, the Britannia classes, huge ships with turrets bristling off the side. Drake had seen the plans for them, but he was more interested in the even larger ships, the Unsinkable class. These ships, named Victoria and Elizabeth, both were the size of the Titanic, with massive guns on the front, and smaller guns sticking out of the sides on all five of the decks. Each ship would need thousands of men to arm it, but these ships were greater in firepower than even the Spanish and American ships at the moment dueling off the coast of New England were.
Drake left the docks feeling satisfied, his plan for rebuilding British glory already progressing.
((Don't kill me for the moonshine engines, they are most reliable in Russian territories where every village has got at least one brewer :biggrin.gif:))
((Oh, and fertilizers were mentioned by Admnistrator, not me. It was his assumption.))
The engineers that didn't have much work finally rejoiced. They have got an order: Make machines capable on running on the new moonshine engines. That seemed like a drunkard's plan, and in fact it was, but it was working. Engineers could do nothing except work. And they did their job well.
The first model of civilian automobile, along with light tank were ready. The automobile isn't much interesting, unlike other machines working on oil, it costed 50% more than standart, just because of engine. But the cost of fuel is very low and soon the costs would be payed off.
The light tank was much more interesting. It was simple in construction, granting it relatively fast construction speed and low prices, it possessed very simple armor, sufficent enough to protect it from bullets, moonshine motor and power generator connected to it. The tank had a heavy machine gun mounted on the rotateable platform with tight shooter's hole to be able to see and safe from bullets. Because of some heavy demands, the fuel section of tank was inside and moonshine in it could be obtained in rather easy way. The tank had got two places: for motorist and shooter located close to each other. And of course, the camouflage was perfect for Russian forests.
The project was a success. The first tanks were going to be built soon, but Vasily needs to send the message about the success. And wait for test results
He walked towards the post office and demanded the postman to make a tellegram, with Ukraine president as a reciever. As postman nodded and sat down behind telegraph, Vasily started dictating: "Машины готовы тчк Первый танк готов к испытаниям тчк" Postman asked for the fee for his work and Vasily put the required amount of money on the table and left, waiting for results.
(Nichu - Could you maybe, I dunno, give us some stats as to why they're unsinkable? At least Nova has the benefit of having a ship that be references IRL.
Night - Well if there's a real thing could you point me to it? Seems rather silly I think. And a bit sudden to start putting it in vehicles. This project has almost been about as abrupt as Torch's victory in Delhi. Probably worth carrying it out a bit more before you declare it operational.)
South of Nanning
Deep in the forest no prying eyes would be present to observe the meeting going down. A dirt trail snaked through the trees. An old abandoned two-track over-grown with weeds. At this point, it wasn't much of the road. The forest was already beginning to reclaim it. Dapples of sun-light played across the roof as the driver sped his way down the track. The radio played music, providing a unfitting sound-track (composed mostly of songs about the ocean). Smirking the driver mused that the DJ's picked the most fitting songs for him. He laughed at his own sarcasm.
The track ended abruptly and the car suddenly jolted up right. "Woah, hey!" the driver exclaimed with an excited grin. Why should he care if this beast got broken? It wasn't technically his. And it wasn't technically stolen.
The car rocked in the forest terrain. For a mid-size Sedan it was built like a rock. It sort of amused him.
He arrived at his destination a minute or two after breaking off of that old two track. A few years off stood a few men dressed in formal-casual clothes: formal shirts and dress pants largely. They sat about smoking cigarettes chatting idly to themselves. The driver was under the impression they were waiting for him.
He stepped out of his car. "Comrades!" he cheered, raising his hands in the air.
"What the **** took you so long?" one of them quipped, eliciting humored laughter from everyone else.
"Well it's such a beautiful spring day I thought I'd stop and take a nap." the man said grinning widely. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and strolled forward.
"Quaylin!" a man called out, "Quaylin Shinkan!"
Having been identified Quaylin turned his gaze to the man who called him out. Walking towards him with his arms spred out in warm welcome was a familiar figure. Quaylin's face beamed with joy as he saw the man striding towards him.
"Kan Sinchuan," he roared, smiling bright, "What the ****. I haven't seen you since we got back from Cuba."
Kan laughed madly, "Hell yeah." he sighed with nostalgia, "And for that they graced me with desk work."
"Well I see no desks here." Quaylin remarked, "Unless these trees are going to be your desk."
"Well with any luck they'll be my toothpicks." he sighed.
"When you two are done talking about the past do you mind?" someone said with considerably agitation, "You brought what you were ordered to. Right?"
"Of course I did." Quaylin said, changing gears and walking back to the trunk of his car, "I got in the trunk."
"At least he didn't get pulled over." someone said. Quaylin paid him no heed.
"He still hasn't gotten over being a speed freak?" Kan asked considerably humored by this topic, "I guess the air-force training really gave him the speed bug. I remember he was the one that crashed that truck through the air-base fence."
"This sounds amusing." someone said, Quaylin was at the trunk and messing with his keys to get it open. Looking up he decided to lag a bit to give the story time.
"Oh yeah. Han and the rest of us were moving in on Jose Martini. We had picked up a few Americans too that crash-landed there so we were carrying them too. We needed a good-sized car so Quaylin picks out this random truck he sees in the ditch, all riddled with bullet holes.
"Little did we know one of the Americans with us knows how to 'hot wire' them. I convinced him to get the damn thing started. And you know what? He did! No keys or anything. Han yells at Quaylin that since he picked it he'll be the lucky ******* to drive it and get shot at.
"We pulled out of the ditch..."
Quaylin got the trunk open and produced a small black-box. Maybe the size of a guitar case. He hoisted it out of the car and looks back up at the gathering. A humored smile on his round face. Strolling over he listens into the rest.
"... We pulled out of the ditch then. Most of us loaded up in the pack and our guns ready. The plan was to ram right through the ****ing gate early that morning when the patrols are thin. It's probably four hundred hours local time so the base is all dark. There's not a sound at all.
"Not until Quaylin puts that gas down through the floor and launches that thing like a bullet."
"Meanwhile this ***** is screaming in the other seat." Quaylin adds, "I rammed it right through the chain link and launched us into the base. I may have caught the attention of some of those ******* guards because they started shooting." looking at the man who wasn't too amused before at the idle banter and catching his impatience Quaylin wrapped it up quickly, "And well, we got to a hanger and I about wrecked the thing sliding around. The two Americans were unfortunate and were killed either mid-drive or shortly after getting to the hanger we were targeting.
"In the end, we all bailed and with half the base now mobilizing to confront us we boarded our jets and took over. And that comrades, was how history was made."
Quaylin handed the case over to the impatient agent. "Well considering you got here I see you weren't pretending that your car wasn't a Sukhoi."
With the box in new hands the previously annoyed agent let himself by the center of attention. "Who wants to do some forestry?" he asked, "Kan? Since you have a toothpick obsession."
This remark was met with approving and friendly laughter.
"Sure, why not." he said.
"Great. Well I challenge you comrade to cut me down a tree."
"A tree? With what?"
"A ****ing herring of course." the agent responded with a flat cruel deliverance that had to be faked.
"No way I can cut down a tree with a fish."
"No fish," the agent said throwing the lid back on the case, "a new toy."
He produced a small large-barreled contraption from the inside. Flipping the gun he let the barrel detach with a loud snap. "Just had it finished several months ago." he said with a proud smirk, "Designed the loading mechanism myself. This is its first field test."
"Wouldn't we need to do this in a firing range?" another agent asked.
"**** that, we're the New People’s China’s Intelligence Agency. Or the IB."
There was a nod of approval from the questioning man.
"Now if you would all part yourselves a bit. Kan, take your new toy."
Kan stood up apprehensively. He walked to the side of the gun's co-designer. He dropped it in his arms and he panicked as it nearly fell from his arms. It was heavier than it looked.
"It's already loaded." the designer said, strolling to a safe distance. "Just shoot the tree ahead of you and then get out of the way if you want to live."
"Didn't this blow up once?" Kan said raising it to his belt.
"Once, while safe-testing the fire mechanism. Now just shoot will you?"
Kan rolled his eyes. Then shouldered the weapon. There was a light cough, reminding him to raise the sights. With a quick pass of the hand he flipped up the long platform that served as the weapon's sighting mechanism. He'd need to ask how it worked later.
Aiming for the tree, he took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly he leveled the weapon and squeezed the trigger. The Herring gave off a loud report that rattled him as much as it did the wild-life. Accompanying the ripping explosion of the tree and report wild birds took panicked flight. The tree swayed, no longer supported by its lower trunk. Rippling cracks and groans echoed in the silence of the forest and the weighty tower sagged and collapsed.
Kan dodged to the right as it collapsed just off to the left of where he had been sitting.
"Gentlemen." its designer said, "The Herring. Planned to be in the hands of the National Police and agents in the IB by autumn this year.
"Later this month, I'm showing this puppy to Sing and Hu Handoi."
The whole ordeal had been confusing, and irritated for both parties, but eventually the Turks figured out they were not running a business and had passports, yet they seemed suspicious. but they had gotten out anyways and were currently sailing home, hoping to start a new seafood resturaunt in Sevastopol.
About five hundred soldiers stood in the cold evening air, they were prepared with their rations and ammo. With their Mosin Nagant rifles and Ak-47's slung around their back as well a pistol in a holster on their hip. They wore a dark mottled, green and brown camouflage uniform with varying shades. They and their commander Bohdan as he was known. They had been given the order to march out north towards Danilov and so they began their march, leaving town heading stealthily into the wilderness.
The army had been given orders to go into Vologoda and so these men set out going through the woods near the road to Danilov and eventually link up with Bohdan's group, this one consisting of about one thousand men all equiped and supplied, they continued marching, with Bohdan's group only a couple of miles ahead, with order to eventually link up.
The group of one thousand men began marching not toward Danilov, but Lyubim. So, they went forth and marched through the wilderness towards Lyubim, a small town in Vologoda, with the goal of capture. It would take a while to get there but it'd be worth it.
A group of five hundred men began marching heading towards Lyubim at a semi brisk pace, to eventually meet up with the army heading out from Kostroma and planning to eventually take the town, while two other armies west began heading for Danilov. All of the soldiers felt this small offensive would be successful, and besides, who wants to live under a dictator? This isn't just a war, but a liberation.
"I am a representative of the Ethiopian government, and was looking to schedule a meeting" repeated Mudada, taking a match out of his matchbook.
"I have access to resources that..." Mudada paused, lighting a cigarette and continuing the conversation through clenched teeth. "...your nation might be interested in. It isn't information I feel compelled to indulge over the phone, however, so I would prefer to continue this discussion in person with one of your agents."
Eight miles outside of Mbandaka, Congo
The arrival of the gold to Hassan's camp was heralded by war whoops and hollering as the men poured out of the camp and surrounded the incoming rovers as if they were carrying a limitless load of sex and booze. Colonel Jomo hopped from the rover in front of the convoy, crowd surfing several yards before being let down in front of Ras Hassan, who had stood outside of the crowd, grinning ear to ear. Hassan slapped Jomo on the back, "This is how generals are made, Jomo!"
"Kwanza was responsible, I just brought the goods home" replied Jomo.
"Don't be so modest Jomo, great men are just those braggarts who claim responsibility for great acts. What is a general but a man who makes a career out of the bravery of others?" retorted Hassan. "Now go, you should eat and rest. Enjoy your victory."
Hassan made his way back to his tent, leaving his men to celebrate the victory on their own. He had business. Inside his tent, he met with another man; a civilian in rough clothing, who seemed as he had neither showered nor shaved in days.
"Monsieur Zaire" greeted Hassan, "I presume you are here on behalf of the good Doctor?"
"Mhm" replied Zaire, his voice gravelly from years of smoking, "Sisi sends his regards and wants you to know he is confident he will get a return from your investment".
"Good" replied Hassan, reaching for a small box on a makeshift shelf, "I would not react so kindly if I were to be scammed. I have friends in Kinshasha too, and they have guns. Cigar?
"I think so" weakly smiled Zaire, reaching for the offered item. "Don't worry, i've never known the doctor to scam anyone other then his patients." stated Zaire, taking a puff of the cigar, "I'll make sure to send you regards though."
"It is there for you then. I can only guarantee your safety up to Lukolela. If you get caught past there, it will be your head." warned Hassan, dragging on his own cigar.
"Leave the worrying about that up to me." replied Zaire...
..."But remember, this kind of thing does take time. Be patient."
(( Arnie, you could at least start the meeting in Canada. ))
Contacting the USSA (NER)
The NER representative, not knowing who was on the other end of the line, continued normally. " Yes, hello; This is Thomas Hughes calling on behalf of the president of New England Republic regarding some concerns he's having about " he paused, not knowing how to say the next part without sounding too ridiculous, ".. the naval battle just off our coasts.. I believe president Holland would like to speak personally. It is quite urgent. "
Boston Massachusetts (NER), state department
The African affairs operator considered the man's request for a moment. There was a naval battle just off the shores, was this even the right time for this? After a moment of consideration, the operator made up his mind, deciding to look more into it considering that New England's needs for resources of any kind were quite clear. Though concerned about the man's unwillingness to speak of them through the phone, he agreed to have an agent meet with him. After several moments of generic information gathering, the meeting had been arranged.
" Yes, sir. You may pass by our offices here Boston, an agent will be waiting for you. "
(( Could have picked a specific place and time, but eh. I'll leave that up to you. ))
((Fixd about testings, and the races were made that used moonshine. That's not silly, that's the freedom of thought (note every free thought is good though) and some physics knowledge. Some guys in Russia made modifications to engines to succesfully use their agrimotors and combines to run them on moonshine.))
(( All I know is that Moonshiners used to race down streets like madmen to haul moonshine around the country, often getting themselves into police chases. Then they invented NASCAR. I've never heard of cars actually running on Moonshine, though ;O ))
((It's technically possible, so why not? Anyway, gotta do tests RIGHT NOW :biggrin.gif:. A bit hyped up because of my new avatar that I've drawn recently, so my post may be influenced by it))
Moscow Oblast, somewhere near Moshaysk
"Да заводись ты, долбаный алкоголик!" cried motorist after fourth attempt to launch the engine. The tank wasn't starting up friendly, boose isn't the best fuel for engines, even heavily adapted to it.
Finally, the engine made a strong roar and started up. The smell of alchogol was all over the tank, the motorist got out a notebook and wrote down while he is still sober: "Ненадежно заводится. Очень сильно чувствуются пары алкоголя."
Alexander was against drinking in any forms. He was the only sober man on the New Year parties, on Birthday parties, on every kind of party actually and some other events that caused people to drink heavily. This of course made Alexander to look strange in the group, but he was respected by many people who knew him. Alexander was honoured to burn the first moonshine liters: he was fully for that. The boose gets a good use.
The motor was humming not so gently. Ready for work. "' class='bbc'>Ну чего, дружок, я теперь уж точно единственный трезвенник в России. Даже танки - алкаши. Ладно, поехали" Alexander said and pulled one of handles. The motor stopped again, this time without being able to start up. Great. Someone oves him much for that. Alexander unhappily sighed and opened the door behind the tank. He waved to his comrades and shouted "Все ребят, умер мотор." Alexander knew when this happens. He went out and continued "' class='bbc'>Пошли домой. Инжам надо доработать эту малышку." Alexander went home, hoping for the next time. He made some marks in the notebook and told some of his friends to send some of them to the engineers.
Orders to the Shun Youyu-shi from the admiralty in Beijing
Your previous orders are overridden in the interests of a new mission. As the captain of the NPN Shun Youyu-shi you, Captain Wang Yaowu are to sail to the Arctic sea. Here you will conduct air-borne raids on the province of Komi, aiding the invasion of the state from East-Russia and disabling the state further to counter-act.
All the while, your primary objective is to sail to the White Sea and take the city of Severodvinsk while neutralizing the northern coast.
Intel suggests that the purging of those northern lands is easier achieved than said and will be no handicap to the task at hand.
You will be accompanied by the cruisers NC-200 and NC-201 who will provide anti-submarine support as well as further anti-air. The Bohai will be joining you to provide anti-ship and submarine support. In addition its air-craft support capabilities will lend recon support and light-bombing of secondary and tertiary targets.
Despite rank, Shen Shao has been ordered to take all orders from you. His support craft have been with-held for this mission and will be stationed in the Northern Patrol Zone until their flag-ship returns.