Fokker Aeroplanbau

[Fokker Aeroplanbau]

The Imperial Federal Government, today, unveiled a new plan aimed at helping and encouraging development within the territory it currently controls; "love conquers all" indeed! Hopefully, with this, any last few dissenters will now be assured of our noble government's plan to make this country strong and proud-anything against that is clearly treason of the highest order! For not only is One Billion dollars being spent on bridges alone, this money comes straight from the rich, the wealthy bankers, not people like you and me. People who need, who want, who deserve these bridges. Not those fat cats who have done nothing but make profit and produce goods; they don't deserve, they don't need their wealth! Which means, in short-that food rationing will not go up, but instead everyone will be granted another two pounds of butter, another dozen selection of fruit and another pound of bacon each month. All provided too you by the honest, transparent, Imperial Federal Government.

This is Chris Long, good night and good bye!

With that, the lights dimming on the stage while flipping to high voltage in the control booths, Mr. Long took the scattering of applause from the assorted audience.

Nodding his head, all macho like, in the direction of the government censorship crew-with the attached Special Directive Unit there for 'their own protection'- he stretched his tired jaw with his hands while his agent, and best friend, Matthew Freedly ambled on over with his trademarked grin. Literally, trademarked; he won twenty million over it in a fairly lucrative case settled out of court with another media morgul. A member of the newsroom's Special Directive Unit looked over in their direction, fraternity between co-workers was fine outside, but right now they were on the government's time; either they worked hard here, or they worked hard digging ditches. Finding mines with a toothbrush wasn't entirely out of the question either; Chris Long's main competition, he just recently learned, has bitten a bullet somewhere behind enemy lines; in several places.

"That was some good news."

"Fairly good, dinner as usual?"

"Nah, got to meet wifey right outside."

"Ah, see yah."

"Cheers" And with that Chris Long walked out onto the street to catch a glimpse of that day's newspaper headlines.

"Government Forces Defend Vital Highway Link To The Last"

"Massive Advances On North Spark Sighs Of Relief In Baton Rouge"

"Rationing In Rubber Increased, Food Rationing All But Repealed"

"Fat chance, he murmurerd at the last one."

Walking to the car, where his wife stood holding open the door to their unassuming automobile (a Fokker Auto-77), the night sound's greeted his ears; mortars, sirens and the casual car bomb shook the capital every ten minutes or so. That was usual. The night sky was always illuminated with some sort of tired offensive, waged by a tired country, struggling to keep together its fragile integrity. Fighting, as of late, was vicious because-no one admitted this-everyone was running out. Running out of steam, running out of energy, running out of blood, running out of life; "running out of freedom." He whispered. As their tires cruised past the rubble formerly known as people's lives his wife-to keep the dark grip of fear at bay-commented on the day's happenings. The stock market had reached a new low, oil prices were low but still high in the often besieged city, bread was becoming much cheaper with the abolition of price controls on that commodity but government regulation had pushed up the price of tea. Replying or looking over at the right times, Chris' mind was still elsewhere-it was in the fires that lined the road, the piles of rubble. Not with the price of tea.

His wife was a politically arranged thing, and he didn't really like her - so he felt no problem in ignoring her on the drive home. Past the shattered and shuttered storefronts, past the graffetti, past the crime and the povery until they reached the suburbs. Where things were better, but only just.

Edited March 29, 2009 by Fokker Aeroplanbau

[Shadowsage]

OOC: Where is this nation?

[JEDCJT]

OOC: Where is this nation?

OOC: I wonder that too...

[Fokker Aeroplanbau]

OOC: Louisiana. Latest update.

[Sargun II]

OOC: Louisiana. Latest update.

OOC: $%&@IN RIGHT THIS !@#$%* HERE IS GANGSTA

[Fokker Aeroplanbau]

OOC: $%&@IN RIGHT THIS !@#$%* HERE IS GANGSTA

Word.

[mykep]

Chris reached for his keys as his ears went numb to the sound of his wife's babbling. He twisted the key and turned the door knob. Yet, something out of his scheduled life was out of order. The lights were off and his wife was quick to point it out.

"I don't remember the light being off..."

With a click of the light, and a scream of the wife, Chris ran to the kitchen where a women with a silencer pointed at his wife, wondered what was the meaning of this visit.

"Who..."

The woman continously looked at the wife, but started talking to Chris.

"My name is Amanda Chavez, and I have come to make a visit to the pleasant state of Louisiana. The International Communist Party has decided to help the people of this state by changing the state itself. We are going to change things around here, and you are going to help, Chris.

Bewildered, Chris made a motion to speak, but was quickly interupted again as Amanda stood up and made her way to the screen door that lead outside, yet still facing Chris with the pistol pointed at his wife.

"You're a good man Chris, and tomorrow you will make a statement to the state telling them they must rally behind this cause. Everyday, thousands of people see your face and listen to your words. They dont deserve the lies and censorship you are forced to feed them. They deserve the truth. Tomorrow, you will deliver that truth and spark a revolution. Louisiana will change because of you, the nation will change because of you. "

With that, the woman dissappeared into the darkness, leaving only an envelope alongside the desk. As his wife bickered about how thier security isnt good enough, he read the note inside the envelope:

Attached is what we have given you to say if you wish to change all that is happening in your country. Your friend, Freedly, is working with us and that is why we are talking rather than you and him over dinner. This is your chance to make a difference... Good Luck.

[Sargun II]

"My name is Amanda Chavez, and I have come to make a visit to the pleasant state of Louisiana. The International Communist Party has decided to help the people of this state by changing the state itself. We are going to change things around here, and you are going to help, Chris."

As Amanda Chavez left Chris' home, Enrrique Chavez stepped in.

"Chris, you cannot listen to that woman." His own silenced pistol was pointed behind him, although he looked straight at Chris. "The communists will bring nothing but ruin to Louisiana! You're being watched by so many parties they probably know what I'm saying before I'm saying it. All you need to know is that Xenu has your back. No, not who you're thinking about - Xenu is his codename." Enrrique smiled. "He's toppled entire governments in a single night. He's arguably the most powerful entity the world has right now, and he's interested in you succeeding."

"Choose wisely."

He ripped set down a small card on the table, then left.

[JEDCJT]

-SNIP- Xenu is his codename." Enrrique smiled. "He's toppled entire governments in a single night." -SNIP-

OOC: Oh, oh, how very true.

Everyone, remy Kelikark? Yup, Xenu did it. =3

Edited March 30, 2009 by JEDCJT

[Fokker Aeroplanbau]

Chris Long zoned out his wife's incessant moanings about security and politics and this and that. With the two requests safely tucked away, he took the time to open up his video link with his so called "security."

"Anything unusual captain?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Everyone reporting in?"

"Sir? Is anything wrong?"

"No, answer my question; who isn't reporting in?"

"Walkway number three."

"Thank you."

Adjusting some knobs, he winced as his wife moved closer - still complaining about how politics and security and this and that were getting in the way of their marriage. He waved her away with a request for a sandwich. He slapped her on the bum to get her moving faster, she was still whining about this and that while waddling off to get him his sandwich.

"Walkway Number Three," Long demanded.

A video camera flicked over from the captain of security, Georg Nolte, to Walkway Number Three. Who was slowly pulling up his pants as he walked out of a side closet - awkwardly caught.

"For getting sucked, you're $%&@ed. Don't show up tomorrow." Long cut off the connection before he could give him some excuse.

A grimace was his only reply to the sandwich his wife had gotten a maid to make him, political marriages were the worst. Especially when they got him involved in this kind of nonsense, how the hell would he be able to do get in front of the country and say anything? Could he just go through the motions, day in and day out? "Of course not," he decided. Now while this may suprise many people, Chris Long was a completely hopeless romantic. Many thought he was a casual, joking, self-centered narccist; while that was merely a facade upon which he hid his true feelings. Feelings for each, and every, poor person which his car ran over day in and day out.

The next day was largely the same, he woke up after pressing the snooze alarm a few times. The Board of National Morning Routine had made sure that all Fokker Clock/Radio's snooze buttons could only be pressed 3 times in under 12 hours. Made napping, and sleeping in, very hard to do. As he stumbled out of his comforters, plush things from some foreign country or another, he waved hello to his wife's closed bedroom door. She wouldn't get up until noon, at the earliest; a real night owl.

Getting ready for work in one's car is never a smart thing, but it definitely is if you are being chauffeured by a superbly trained SDU driver - who was more than used to having his passengers doing the most eccentric things, cocaine off homosexual men's stomachs for instance, much less someone running late. Making sure that his shoes matched with his socks, a few rebellious coworkers were 'fighting the power' by showing their allegiance to the various banned political parties by the color of their mismatched attire. He was, as he joked at the news room's Christmas party, "too successful for politics."

Of course, now he wouldn't be that successful, not for long.

My people, I have regrettable news for you tonight.

The people who could change things would not, some were socialists and some merely respected him too much - they knew it was a interesting suicide but suicide nonetheless. Others he bribed, and the rest - just didn't want to take their heads out of the sand. They were emasculated by the authoritarian power he was fighting right now.

You have been duped, you have been duped hard, you have been duped long. There are few things I believe so honestly in, then in the fact the current government is nothing more than a bunch of incompetent fools. It is time for us to throw off these regulations and attain for ourselves-

With that, the lines were cut. This wasn't some Ayn Rand novel where Taggert rambled on for eons; this was real life. The Special Directive Unit was quick to act; executed one slow technician to get things moving and were more than happy to kill another. At that point, the rebellion was effectively crushed.

Chris Long was, within a few minutes, on his way to jail.

Edited March 30, 2009 by Fokker Aeroplanbau

[mykep]

With that, the nation wide audience effectively recieved the message. Internet posts, blogs, youtube, all focused on the matter at hand. With that matter at hand, came The International Communism Party.

They leaped at the opportunity to take the people by the hand and scream into thier ears how Communism puts the focus on the people, not the government. They fed the people the truths and everything they wanted to hear and desired out of htier government. The focus went from lies and slander to the full backing of a Communist State in Lousiana.

The ICP then painted Chris as thier saint. The one who brought them into the light. Scandals, Betrayal, Set ups, and lies ontop of lies began to unfold as documents were exposed and censorship lost itself. Even fake or mistakened or even construed stories were being reported in to all people.

Riots broke out and the International Party was quick to hand a gun or two to an extremist supporter here and there. The authoritarian government lost its authority over people. In one rally, the people gathered around Amanda keeping her from being arrested as she spoke the words:

"The time has come to rally for your freedom. This life of slavery and being fed lies are over. The people must take action and deliver a blow to this government. The power must be put in the hands of the people, and we must fight for it."

The people cheered, and some officers turned around and began facing the national gaurd. Amanda dismounted the stage and ran to the nearest alleyway where she found refuge at a supporters home. She asked if she could borrow a phone. When pointed in the right direction, she began to repose herself and gain her breathe. She dialed a number and asked for Mark.

"Hello?"

"Mark, it is time. Bring in the Red Fist."

She hung up and put her head down. She smiled and said to herself, "We can win this." The revolution was on.

Edited March 30, 2009 by mykep

[Fokker Aeroplanbau]

"Violence for a foreign cause, for a cause so at odds with our people means that there can only be one punishment; the punishment of the everlasting darkness. Those who are affiliated with the Communist Party, or even socialist feelings, will be efficiently lined up and shot. This is not a warning, this is not a threat, this is a promise. The valiant people of Fokker Aeroplanbau will not let themselves be subjugated by some foreign imperialist, especially if that imperialist promises nothing more than the equal sharing of misery. We will not let this injustice stand, our democratic institution will not fall at the whims of some weak influence by a handful of poor peasants, and some foreign capital. We, not they, will rise out of this bar fight victorious; they, not us, will rise about the conflict like a phoenix."

The young Arthur McCorkle, the speaker of the above speech, was gunned down right outside his house later that afternoon. A deranged crack addict, wearing nothing but a red flag.

Chris Long was still locked behind bars, he was happy to be a national hero, but that didn't change the fact that he was currently surrounded by a bunch of lean, mean, undoubtedly loyal and very conservative Special Directive Unit agents. To make matters worse, they had a resoundingly bad sense of humor, more grave humor than anything and definitely nothing approaching the polite titter jokes Chris was world famous for.

"Knock knock."

No response.

"Knock knock."

A rifle butt to the face was enough to keep the punchline postponed, indefinitely.

The government posts throughout the land were slowly overrun by the senseless, or feeling, masses. It didn't matter how many rounds were pumped into the crowd, into the rolling mass of red. While rivers of blood were spent trying to topple the government, there were ever more bullets. Making sure to keep a solid PR campaign; it knew had badly some civil wars went if there were any horrible pictures taken at the wrong time.

Unlike other governments with communist rebellions, they knew that the moral high ground shouldn't be given to the rebels. Yet, they killed civilians anyhow - just mowed them right down. Protest in the street? Mowed them down. Protest in the trees? Mowed them down. Protest in the grass? Mowed the grass. Then executed all the protestors. While most people think that people will triumph over all, if there are motivated people with guns, and motivated people without guns, there will honestly be only one victory. For one side.

They needed some heavy weapons.

[mykep]

Declaration of War

on the Fokker Aeroplanbau

The government of the New Northern Empire fully supports the people who have been abused by their government. Lies have forced them into a corner and now the citizens are being killed for promoting thier views. It is time to act, and as a supporting unit of the International Communist Party, we shall act against the government.

-Chairman Gage

*Classified*

Two battleships, One Carrier with 22 planes, Also Supply Ships and Landing Ships are bringing 35,000 troops with 1,000 T90s tanks. Along with 4 KA-52 Alligator Attack Helicopters and Supplies to launch several SS-1 Scud-17 Missiles.

*Classified to IoA*

In an act of desperation, the people of Fokker Aeroplanbau have been attacked by hte government. We ask permission to pass through your waters so that we may help our ICP brothers and the people of Fokker Aeroplanbau in thier attempt to rid such a terrible government.

They have resulted to violent means so we are taking action.

Edited March 31, 2009 by mykep

[Shadowsage]

*Classified*

Granted, under the condition that the area does not become a colony after victory. So long as this is met, we will supply your force from our own stores. In addition, we can subordinate one Carrier from the Home Fleet to your command; the Imperial Revenant stocks 35 Fighters and a like amount of Ground Attack Helicopters, in addition to provisions for soldiers.

[mykep]

*Classified*

Granted, under the condition that the area does not become a colony after victory. So long as this is met, we will supply your force from our own stores. In addition, we can subordinate one Carrier from the Home Fleet to your command; the Imperial Revenant stocks 35 Fighters and a like amount of Ground Attack Helicopters, in addition to provisions for soldiers.

**Classified**

America is not our place, we are simply trying to help an existing nation in its troubled time. We also thank you for the support and will use your forced limitedly so that casualties will not be a high cost for your army and navy to bear.

With permission granted, the fleet headed westward into the Caribbean and joned with the IoA support.

[Shadowsage]

*Classified*

Casualties are not a problem in the Imperium; seeing as it has been quite some time since the devastation of the Rainforest War (South American). If the Carriers being brought to the Caribbean are large enough, we may be able to make good any losses you suffer with aircraft from our own inventory. Additionally, the Home Fleet possesses a large capacity for Long-Range Bombardment. Should you require mission support, each Battleship of the Imperial Armada carries Four IRBM missiles capable of being equipped with a variety of Munitions.

[mykep]

**Classified**

Roger. We may ask for missile surpression during the actual invasion. Other than that, I believe we have enough to rid the people of the government. We are meeting up with forces and militia on the ground, so the battles shouldnt be anything other than a military exercise.

**

OOC: Waiting on Fokker to provide a defense report or the numbers I'll be fighting.

[Shadowsage]

*Classified Internal Report*

The Imperial Revenant steamed off its' station escorted by a pair of Frigates from the Home-Defense-Fleet. Its' cargo included several antique Armored Combat Suits retrofitted for the new Bolter Weapons being field-tested. It was hoped that the Fokker Aeroplanbau situation would give the system its' trial-by-fire. Hopefully, the Northern Empire Commander would see the usefulness of High-Velocity .45 caliber Depleted Uranium bullets fired from a standard infantryman.

Aboard the massive Carrier, point-defense arrays and early-detection radar systems warmed up in preparation for intercepting any incoming threats with a hail of metal and fire. On the flight-deck, crew members dragged Night Haunters into position before loading arrays of high-speed missiles into the internal compartments vital to maintaining stealth.

The Imperial Contribution to the effort was ready and waiting for the Northern Empire's ships.