08-16-2022, 10:38 PM
(Joint Post with Xiomera)
Undisclosed Location, Southern Auria
May 16th, 2022, 6:17 PM
"Nē voi san sarem."
Lieutenant Natalija Petrova leaned forward in her chair, gritting her teeth while she muttered the phrase "I won't tell you anything" in Eirian. Her hands and legs were tied to a metal chair, hindering any escape attempt she may have planned. Bruises lined her arms and face, indicating both her rough landing into an Aurian forest, and her terrible treatment at the hands of her captors.
She had evaded them as much as she could, in her wounded state. Her parachute had gotten caught in a tree branch, sending her feet-first into a tree trunk. The moment she had cut herself from the parachute, she knew that her ankle was at minimum sprained, if not broken. That, combined with the Xiomeran mercenaries sending out search parties after her fighter crashed, made her capture virtually inevitable. She was laser-focused at staring at the wall, attempting to ignore the uniformed man who accompanied her.
Apamatl chuckled softly. The CSSC Special Operations interrogator tapped the stylus of his tablet calmly as he looked at Petrova. "Sooner or later, you'll tell us whatever you know. It may not be much, but who knows? I won't know, until I exhaust all my resources." Apamatl leaned back in his chair. "I don't enjoy this, you know. But just like you, I have orders to obey, and a job to do. So, I suggest for your sake that you cooperate. It's far easier and less painful. It also would prevent any need for resorting to our pharmacological capacities to make you talk. The drugs are more effective than brute force, but they do sometimes have side effects."
The Eirian pilot looked at the floor, not even acknowledging what her interrogator had said. "Nē poivem runat Ankliš." Even someone who isn't fluent in Eirian could recognize the phrase. I don't speak English. Petrova's voice was coarse and muted as she stared at the ground, praying that her captor would understand and believe her lie. It's a long shot, but please, God, let him believe me.
Apamatl sighed. "Just like most Xiomerans, most Eirians speak at least a little English. But if you insist, I can get an Eirian speaker from our linguistic corps in here. At that point, I am sure you will understand what I have to say quite well." The interrogator deliberately pressed a finger against one of the bruises on Petrova's arm. "Some languages, such as that of pain, are universal."
The captive leaned her head back, curling her fingers and toes as pain shot through her entire arm. You sick bastard. She stared back up at Apamatl, her expression clearly illustrating how much she despised him. Even as tears streamed down her cheeks, she didn't say a word. I won't give you the satisfaction of a reply, you sadistic piece of shit.
"I see you got that message," Apamatl said, undeterred by the open hatred on Petrova's face. "I'm actually trying to make this easier on you, you know. But you're insistent on being stubborn. So, let's continue. What are the intended next air targets of Coalition forces?"
Like I'd tell you, you mercenary bastard. She kept his gaze for a few moments, just to keep him waiting, before slowly starting to hum a quiet melody, as if to drown her captor's questions out. She broke their stare and looked down at the floor while she recreated a soft melody, intending to annoy her captor as much as possible.
Apamatl sighed again. "You clearly think you can hold out against our worst. You haven't even seen the worst. Let me explain what is going to happen here. I am going to continue to ask you questions. If you are not forthcoming, the big guys with the truncheons will come back in to pay you another visit. Then I'll come back and try again, and that cycle will repeat itself. At some point I'll go off and have a nice dinner - CSSC rations are quite superb - and then I'll go to bed and have a good sleep while you sit here handcuffed to that chair all night. And then we'll start again - that is, if I don't get bored with this game and pump you full of enough interrogation drugs to have you telling me everything from your intended targets to your favorite color and things that happened to you in grade school." Apamatl shook his head. "Why go through all that to delay the inevitable?"
Petrova met the Xiomeran's gaze again, this time, her cold anger getting the better of her. "Because every minute you waste with me, that's one less person fighting us. All of the guards guarding me, all of the interrogators you work with here, those people are taken from the battlefield to waste time asking me questions. You're losing ground, it doesn't take a genius to see that. And if you want to spend precious time and manpower interrogating me..." She gave him a spiteful smile. "Be my guest."
"It's no waste of time or manpower. This is our job. We're assigned to do this. As for losing ground....I don't think you understand. Whether it's out there, or in here, this is a battle of endurance. And I am quite confident that our ability to endure this fight will outlast your little coalition's....just as our endurance in here will outlast yours. I've already gotten you to speak, after all, when you were so determined to give me the silent treatment." Apamatl chuckled again. "So. Let's try this again. What are the intended next targets of Coalition air forces?"
"Hmm. I could've sworn I heard the higher ups say that the next target was your mother's house. Apparently, it's a popular place among the officers, and it's caused a bit of a distraction. But hey, officer morale has never been higher!" Petrova's biting sarcasm was delivered with an angry grin. "Is that the answer you were looking for?"
In response, Apamatl stood up, took a black leather sap from his belt and whacked it against Petrova's other arm. "Childish insults will get you nowhere. Besides, my mother is back in Xiomera, well out of the reach of your little coalition. Seriously....your leaders couldn't find any better partners than Lauchenoiria and Milintica? It's like you want your planes to get shot down. Which we're more than happy to oblige." The interrogator gave Petrova a cool smile as he sat back down.
The Eirian grimaced as she was whipped, the stinging pain triggering her existing wounds. After biting her lip, she came up with a quick retort. "And yet, you're losing ground. We've got the air and naval advantages now. We've got steady supply lines. You're losing to Eiria, Lauchenoiria, and Milintica, and you can't even blame the weather this time. Oh, how the great Xiomeran armies have fallen."
Apamatl smirked. "You haven't seen all the cards we have to play yet. And when you do....let's just say you will be quite surprised. Your side, I mean. You, specifically, won't be seeing much." The interrogator stood back up. "I can see you need some more convincing to be cooperative." He made a gesture to the guard observing through a window in the door to the interrogation room. After a moment, two men walked in. One was a standard guard, complete with standard truncheon. The other was someone Petrova hadn't seen before. A person in a lab coat, with a small tray of various medical tools and vials. "After you've had some quality time with my friends here, we'll chat again. Something tells me that you'll be much more willing to cooperate then."
Petrova's spirited sarcasm faded, and she closed her eyes, picturing the faces of her fellow pilots and officers. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I did everything I could. She felt her hope waning as her captors made preparations, desperately hoping that her first interrogator was bluffing about the drugs. As she slumped down in her chair, only one thought kept crossing through her mind.
Please, let it be painless.
–
Hadkeca Township, Western Auria
May 22nd, 2022, 9:35 AM
The small village of Hadkeca was unassuming to any outside viewer. Quiet, tranquil, and hidden in the Karēce Hills, Hadkeca sat on the border of the Emilija Mountain Range that decorated Auria's western border. In this far out town, it would be easy to think that the chaos of the rest of Auria wouldn't apply here, that this slow, picturesque town would be protected from the terror and bloodshed of the eastern and southern regions.
But as it turns out, not even a town like Hadkeca could escape the war.
Nicolas Dupont nervously glanced down at the pistol holstered on his hip, leaning back on the cold brick wall. The seventeen year old was perpetually on edge, often scanning his surroundings in case one of his superiors could see him, despite him doing nothing wrong. His post was quite dull, watching over the rolling Karēce Hills for any sign of vehicles on the worn-down roads. He had held this post for a week, ever since General Michelin and his forces had rolled into town. They had made one thing clear to Hadkeca's able-bodied inhabitants: Enlist freely, or enlist while staring down a gun.
"Cadet" Dupont had wisely chosen the former, being ordered to dress in all-black and to stand at the very edge of town, making the youth the town's first line of defense and warnings. Perpetually nervous of this fact, and terrified to be considered disobedient by his superiors, he obeyed every command given to him, and constantly examined the distant roads, just in case of attackers. Is anyone really gonna attack us? We're as far from Lumiere as you can get!
The noise of moving feet and muffled voices echoed from behind him, causing him to stand up straight and peek out from the wall onto the street. A group of young conscripts, led by a few gruff officers, marched down the decaying road, weapons out and pointed downwards. The lead officer noticed Dupont first, slowing his pace and gesturing.
"Cadet! On me. You're the furthest scout, eh?"
Nicolas nodded, joints locked stiffly in place and eyes staring forward. "Yeah… Yes sir!"
The officer waved his hand, and Dupont relaxed, still standing with respectful posture. "Why don't you join the line, cadet? General Michelin has assigned us the privilege of extending our reach and scoping out nearby towns. There's not much need of a scout here anymore, so you'll be reporting to me. Now…" He pointed at the back of the group. "Form up! It's a long walk to the next town."
Lumiere, Eastern Auria
June 1st, 2022, 12:03 PM
Sarah Berenstein, in a neat suit, stood in front of several TV cameras, keeping her expression determined and refined. Her appearance was carefully constructed to match the regality that Auria's previous leaders have conveyed. After all, every television in eastern Auria was displaying her speech. Especially with discontent on the rise throughout the country, it was critical for Berenstein to give an impression of composure and stability.
A camera operator used his fingers to count down, pointing at Berenstein to signify that the cameras are now live. With a small nod, she began to speak. "Good afternoon, my fellow Aurians. I understand that the recent times have been very stressful, and that many of you are likely feeling very uneasy about the state of our great nation. And you'd be right to be concerned. We are under great pressure from both foreign aggressors and internal dissidents. Auria has never faced such stressors."
"But, Auria has also never been in this condition. Under the fragile, stagnant governments of the past, our nation would've never survived the pressures we face today." Berenstein's tone was firm, yet encouraging, meant to inspire pride in listeners. "Yet, here we stand, stronger than ever! We have been forged in the fire of adversity, and we will not bend to those who wish to impose their will on us. As we speak, our troops are holding the line against nations much larger than Auria ever has been. These nations seek to undermine our newfound strength, to knock us back down to the shell of a nation we once were."
"And these nations aren't working alone. It has come to my attention that a rogue group of individuals are claiming that our late King Andrew Cordonnier is still alive, and that they are following his wishes. Not only are these claims completely false, they are blatantly disrespectful to Andrew's memory. Our most recent intelligence also indicates that this violent group is also behind the brutal assassination of Prime Minister Jonathan Gerand, a very close friend of mine." Her voice softened a bit as she mentioned the former Minister of Intelligence. "I will use every single resource at my disposal to make sure that these criminals are brought to justice, for the safety of our citizens."
"While we mourn the deaths of two great leaders, we also must turn our attention to the future, or else we risk losing our great nation in our grief. We must act in unison, standing against both internal and external threats with the same unwavering strength. The days of crowns and broken bureaucracies are over. It's time for effective, direct governance that truly works for the Aurian people. Let us work together to make that dream government a reality. I, Sarah Berenstein, promise to exceed your expectations for a Prime Minister. Together, we will take our glorious nation into the future, against any foe."
She gave the cameras one last confident nod. "Thank you all for your time. Long live Auria!"
Undisclosed Location, Southern Auria
May 16th, 2022, 6:17 PM
"Nē voi san sarem."
Lieutenant Natalija Petrova leaned forward in her chair, gritting her teeth while she muttered the phrase "I won't tell you anything" in Eirian. Her hands and legs were tied to a metal chair, hindering any escape attempt she may have planned. Bruises lined her arms and face, indicating both her rough landing into an Aurian forest, and her terrible treatment at the hands of her captors.
She had evaded them as much as she could, in her wounded state. Her parachute had gotten caught in a tree branch, sending her feet-first into a tree trunk. The moment she had cut herself from the parachute, she knew that her ankle was at minimum sprained, if not broken. That, combined with the Xiomeran mercenaries sending out search parties after her fighter crashed, made her capture virtually inevitable. She was laser-focused at staring at the wall, attempting to ignore the uniformed man who accompanied her.
Apamatl chuckled softly. The CSSC Special Operations interrogator tapped the stylus of his tablet calmly as he looked at Petrova. "Sooner or later, you'll tell us whatever you know. It may not be much, but who knows? I won't know, until I exhaust all my resources." Apamatl leaned back in his chair. "I don't enjoy this, you know. But just like you, I have orders to obey, and a job to do. So, I suggest for your sake that you cooperate. It's far easier and less painful. It also would prevent any need for resorting to our pharmacological capacities to make you talk. The drugs are more effective than brute force, but they do sometimes have side effects."
The Eirian pilot looked at the floor, not even acknowledging what her interrogator had said. "Nē poivem runat Ankliš." Even someone who isn't fluent in Eirian could recognize the phrase. I don't speak English. Petrova's voice was coarse and muted as she stared at the ground, praying that her captor would understand and believe her lie. It's a long shot, but please, God, let him believe me.
Apamatl sighed. "Just like most Xiomerans, most Eirians speak at least a little English. But if you insist, I can get an Eirian speaker from our linguistic corps in here. At that point, I am sure you will understand what I have to say quite well." The interrogator deliberately pressed a finger against one of the bruises on Petrova's arm. "Some languages, such as that of pain, are universal."
The captive leaned her head back, curling her fingers and toes as pain shot through her entire arm. You sick bastard. She stared back up at Apamatl, her expression clearly illustrating how much she despised him. Even as tears streamed down her cheeks, she didn't say a word. I won't give you the satisfaction of a reply, you sadistic piece of shit.
"I see you got that message," Apamatl said, undeterred by the open hatred on Petrova's face. "I'm actually trying to make this easier on you, you know. But you're insistent on being stubborn. So, let's continue. What are the intended next air targets of Coalition forces?"
Like I'd tell you, you mercenary bastard. She kept his gaze for a few moments, just to keep him waiting, before slowly starting to hum a quiet melody, as if to drown her captor's questions out. She broke their stare and looked down at the floor while she recreated a soft melody, intending to annoy her captor as much as possible.
Apamatl sighed again. "You clearly think you can hold out against our worst. You haven't even seen the worst. Let me explain what is going to happen here. I am going to continue to ask you questions. If you are not forthcoming, the big guys with the truncheons will come back in to pay you another visit. Then I'll come back and try again, and that cycle will repeat itself. At some point I'll go off and have a nice dinner - CSSC rations are quite superb - and then I'll go to bed and have a good sleep while you sit here handcuffed to that chair all night. And then we'll start again - that is, if I don't get bored with this game and pump you full of enough interrogation drugs to have you telling me everything from your intended targets to your favorite color and things that happened to you in grade school." Apamatl shook his head. "Why go through all that to delay the inevitable?"
Petrova met the Xiomeran's gaze again, this time, her cold anger getting the better of her. "Because every minute you waste with me, that's one less person fighting us. All of the guards guarding me, all of the interrogators you work with here, those people are taken from the battlefield to waste time asking me questions. You're losing ground, it doesn't take a genius to see that. And if you want to spend precious time and manpower interrogating me..." She gave him a spiteful smile. "Be my guest."
"It's no waste of time or manpower. This is our job. We're assigned to do this. As for losing ground....I don't think you understand. Whether it's out there, or in here, this is a battle of endurance. And I am quite confident that our ability to endure this fight will outlast your little coalition's....just as our endurance in here will outlast yours. I've already gotten you to speak, after all, when you were so determined to give me the silent treatment." Apamatl chuckled again. "So. Let's try this again. What are the intended next targets of Coalition air forces?"
"Hmm. I could've sworn I heard the higher ups say that the next target was your mother's house. Apparently, it's a popular place among the officers, and it's caused a bit of a distraction. But hey, officer morale has never been higher!" Petrova's biting sarcasm was delivered with an angry grin. "Is that the answer you were looking for?"
In response, Apamatl stood up, took a black leather sap from his belt and whacked it against Petrova's other arm. "Childish insults will get you nowhere. Besides, my mother is back in Xiomera, well out of the reach of your little coalition. Seriously....your leaders couldn't find any better partners than Lauchenoiria and Milintica? It's like you want your planes to get shot down. Which we're more than happy to oblige." The interrogator gave Petrova a cool smile as he sat back down.
The Eirian grimaced as she was whipped, the stinging pain triggering her existing wounds. After biting her lip, she came up with a quick retort. "And yet, you're losing ground. We've got the air and naval advantages now. We've got steady supply lines. You're losing to Eiria, Lauchenoiria, and Milintica, and you can't even blame the weather this time. Oh, how the great Xiomeran armies have fallen."
Apamatl smirked. "You haven't seen all the cards we have to play yet. And when you do....let's just say you will be quite surprised. Your side, I mean. You, specifically, won't be seeing much." The interrogator stood back up. "I can see you need some more convincing to be cooperative." He made a gesture to the guard observing through a window in the door to the interrogation room. After a moment, two men walked in. One was a standard guard, complete with standard truncheon. The other was someone Petrova hadn't seen before. A person in a lab coat, with a small tray of various medical tools and vials. "After you've had some quality time with my friends here, we'll chat again. Something tells me that you'll be much more willing to cooperate then."
Petrova's spirited sarcasm faded, and she closed her eyes, picturing the faces of her fellow pilots and officers. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I did everything I could. She felt her hope waning as her captors made preparations, desperately hoping that her first interrogator was bluffing about the drugs. As she slumped down in her chair, only one thought kept crossing through her mind.
Please, let it be painless.
–
Hadkeca Township, Western Auria
May 22nd, 2022, 9:35 AM
The small village of Hadkeca was unassuming to any outside viewer. Quiet, tranquil, and hidden in the Karēce Hills, Hadkeca sat on the border of the Emilija Mountain Range that decorated Auria's western border. In this far out town, it would be easy to think that the chaos of the rest of Auria wouldn't apply here, that this slow, picturesque town would be protected from the terror and bloodshed of the eastern and southern regions.
But as it turns out, not even a town like Hadkeca could escape the war.
Nicolas Dupont nervously glanced down at the pistol holstered on his hip, leaning back on the cold brick wall. The seventeen year old was perpetually on edge, often scanning his surroundings in case one of his superiors could see him, despite him doing nothing wrong. His post was quite dull, watching over the rolling Karēce Hills for any sign of vehicles on the worn-down roads. He had held this post for a week, ever since General Michelin and his forces had rolled into town. They had made one thing clear to Hadkeca's able-bodied inhabitants: Enlist freely, or enlist while staring down a gun.
"Cadet" Dupont had wisely chosen the former, being ordered to dress in all-black and to stand at the very edge of town, making the youth the town's first line of defense and warnings. Perpetually nervous of this fact, and terrified to be considered disobedient by his superiors, he obeyed every command given to him, and constantly examined the distant roads, just in case of attackers. Is anyone really gonna attack us? We're as far from Lumiere as you can get!
The noise of moving feet and muffled voices echoed from behind him, causing him to stand up straight and peek out from the wall onto the street. A group of young conscripts, led by a few gruff officers, marched down the decaying road, weapons out and pointed downwards. The lead officer noticed Dupont first, slowing his pace and gesturing.
"Cadet! On me. You're the furthest scout, eh?"
Nicolas nodded, joints locked stiffly in place and eyes staring forward. "Yeah… Yes sir!"
The officer waved his hand, and Dupont relaxed, still standing with respectful posture. "Why don't you join the line, cadet? General Michelin has assigned us the privilege of extending our reach and scoping out nearby towns. There's not much need of a scout here anymore, so you'll be reporting to me. Now…" He pointed at the back of the group. "Form up! It's a long walk to the next town."
Lumiere, Eastern Auria
June 1st, 2022, 12:03 PM
Sarah Berenstein, in a neat suit, stood in front of several TV cameras, keeping her expression determined and refined. Her appearance was carefully constructed to match the regality that Auria's previous leaders have conveyed. After all, every television in eastern Auria was displaying her speech. Especially with discontent on the rise throughout the country, it was critical for Berenstein to give an impression of composure and stability.
A camera operator used his fingers to count down, pointing at Berenstein to signify that the cameras are now live. With a small nod, she began to speak. "Good afternoon, my fellow Aurians. I understand that the recent times have been very stressful, and that many of you are likely feeling very uneasy about the state of our great nation. And you'd be right to be concerned. We are under great pressure from both foreign aggressors and internal dissidents. Auria has never faced such stressors."
"But, Auria has also never been in this condition. Under the fragile, stagnant governments of the past, our nation would've never survived the pressures we face today." Berenstein's tone was firm, yet encouraging, meant to inspire pride in listeners. "Yet, here we stand, stronger than ever! We have been forged in the fire of adversity, and we will not bend to those who wish to impose their will on us. As we speak, our troops are holding the line against nations much larger than Auria ever has been. These nations seek to undermine our newfound strength, to knock us back down to the shell of a nation we once were."
"And these nations aren't working alone. It has come to my attention that a rogue group of individuals are claiming that our late King Andrew Cordonnier is still alive, and that they are following his wishes. Not only are these claims completely false, they are blatantly disrespectful to Andrew's memory. Our most recent intelligence also indicates that this violent group is also behind the brutal assassination of Prime Minister Jonathan Gerand, a very close friend of mine." Her voice softened a bit as she mentioned the former Minister of Intelligence. "I will use every single resource at my disposal to make sure that these criminals are brought to justice, for the safety of our citizens."
"While we mourn the deaths of two great leaders, we also must turn our attention to the future, or else we risk losing our great nation in our grief. We must act in unison, standing against both internal and external threats with the same unwavering strength. The days of crowns and broken bureaucracies are over. It's time for effective, direct governance that truly works for the Aurian people. Let us work together to make that dream government a reality. I, Sarah Berenstein, promise to exceed your expectations for a Prime Minister. Together, we will take our glorious nation into the future, against any foe."
She gave the cameras one last confident nod. "Thank you all for your time. Long live Auria!"
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