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Days, Hours and Moments. Life in Sylvania.

The Federation

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RevolverZeek
"His right eye is a complete loss, there is a 50/50 chance that we may be able to restore vision in his left eye with this next surgery. We are confident that his other wounds to his right arm and abdomen no longer pose a threat to his life.

Keira Breckenridge's day had started like any other, she awoke to the sound of her husband taking a shower, the steam flowing out of the slightly open bathroom door, the white light illuminating a small sliver of the still dark bedroom. She laid in bed with her eyes closed listening to the sound of the water and the slight hum of a tune they had listened to on the radio the night before. She remembered drifting back into a half sleep state only to be brought out again by a soft push on her shoulder and a kiss good morning. She remembered both her and her husband rousing their four children, remembered complaining again about their cramped Charleroi townhouse, a lamentation of leaving their large, two story arts and crafts back in Twin Echo. Mornings were always her favorite time of the day, it was when they were all together before they were all ripped away from each other, her husband to the capitol, her children to school and her to attend to her various private tutoring appointments for the children of Charleroi's elite.

"M'am, I know you have had a very stressful few days, but I just want you to understand where we are with Mr. Breckenridge." Keira came out of it, her eyes finally snapping to the doctor's face in realization that he was there in front of her. "I understand, can I see him now?"

"Of course, but he may not be coherent from all the drugs."

She entered the preparatory room where he awaited his next surgery, the sight of him wasn't as grizzly as she thought it might be, his wounded eyes were covered with a fresh bandage and the hospital bed blanket covered him up to his neck. She grabbed his hand as it hung out from the sheets, his grip was weak but he could tell it was her just by the feel of her hand, a hand he had held many times before.

"Keira."

Tears streamed down her face, she was sick of crying, she had cried for the last two days, but she couldn't stop herself. The emotions were too great. Fear, anger, love, hatred, she felt them all in that instance as she looked upon her husband's pathetic state. Time passed with lightning speed as she sat there, wordless, holding his hand in between hers. Suddenly the medical team was back, ready to wheel him away for another round of surgeries.

"I love you... be strong... it's not over yet." He slurred through a moment of lucidity. She responded in kind, unaware of his double meaning.
 

The Federation

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RevolverZeek
One Day after grenade attack. 22:13

CP! CP! This is STARS Charlie Team, we are surrounded at the McBonifacius Burger on the corner of 5th and Ann street. We need extraction! Out!" The radio clicked as Team Captain Baker un-keyed the microphone.

"Negative Charlie Team, militia are shooting at police and news choppers, heli extraction is a no go at this time." Over and out.

"Dammit! Sorry guys we aren't getting out of here by chopper, at least not yet." The other members of the team groaned. There were tired, having been harassed, had rocks thrown at them, piss and even shit. The McBonifacius Burger restaurant was empty, the doors had been left unlocked after the workers had fled the area. The streets outside where quiet, the occasional shout, firecracker or gunshot could be heard.

Captain Baker slung his on his shoulder and sat on the counter near the register. "Take it easy guys, we still have 30 blocks to go before we get to CMPF HQ.

Specialist Nyland slammed his fist into a table in anger. "Fuck this, HQ puts us out there to screen the police retreat and then they fucking abandon us? They abandoned the city too. Cowards!"

Specialist Brooks also took the opportunity to complain about the situation. "We should be out there looking for Breckenridge's attacker! I have half a mind to throw my lot in with the "illegal" militia and fuck up these commie bastards burning our hometown up!

Brooks' comment elicited agreement from the group, it was no secret the police were more right wing, they had all served in their hometown militia back before the militia's were disbanded.

Captain Baker agreed himself, but he didn't make it apparent. "That's enough Brooks. We all know what the deal is. No need for any more inciteful comments.

The sounds of rioters grew outside, they could here them busting out car windows on their way toward the intersection that restaurant was located. Captain Baker ordered his men to hide, the rules of engagement would not allow them to engage the rioters unless they had guns and were shooting at them. A crowd of twenty men and women carry red banners, wearing surplus tactical gear and ski masks covering their faces came into the intersection. They became incensed at the presence of the McBonifacius Burger, to them it was a monument to capitalism and low wage slavery. They threw rocks to break the windows and a few of the male rioters entered with bats and crowbars.

It was apparent to Captain Baker that they would be discovered so he ordered his team of six into defensive positions interspersed between the booths and the counter. The rioters were surprised at the sudden appearance of heavily armed police and ran from the building. Outside the crowd grew larger as the rioters were made aware of the police presence, Charlie Team was outnumbered and surrounded. One of the rioters threw a molotov at the store, setting the outside of the building on fire, it burned harmlessly at the concrete facade. Others threw rocks, Nyland fired a warning shot over the head of the rioters, but this only served to encourage more rock throwing. The men with bats and crowbar came back, the rock throwing stopped as they entered.

"Fascist cowards! Fight us with your hands like real men." One of the men with a crowbar yelled.

"Lower your weapon and retreat from the premises or we will fire on you!" Captain Baker yelled back. Just then a rock hit Specialist Brooks in the face, he flinched and his M2006 fired a wild burst into one of the armed rioters he had his sights on. A 10mm hollow point shell connected with the rioter's head blowing the back of his head out splattering an onlooking female rioter with her friend's brain. The shrieking of onlooking female silenced everyone in the area as it quickly dawned on them what had happened.

"You motherfuckers!" Another rioter charged Captain Baker, forcing him to dispatch the attacking individual with a quick burst into his chest.

"Weapons free!" Baker had enough, his higher ups be damned, he wouldn't let this crowd tear them all apart. Burst after two round burst sent three more rioters down and the crowd reeled back, everyone fearing they might feel the bite of the bullet next. The intersection quickly emptied. Captain Baker led his team into the intersection and oriented himself to the location of CMPF HQ.

"Alright, enough fucking resting. Let's get the fuck out of here before they come back."
 

The Federation

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President Snyder paced in the Presidential Office inside Cairnwood House, the executive mansion. The last few weeks had been tumultuous, bordering on what could have sparked a civil war in the country, at least according to a few news commentators. That was fake news in Snyder's mind and though she would never admit it, she enjoyed the last few days. All the blame would fall on the youth wing of the party, Snyder never got her hands dirty, working through loyal intermediaries that would direct the blame elsewhere. When the youth wing leadership arrived back from Natalia, they would all be arrested and convicted of crimes against the state. She would then show the Sylvanian people that she had been working tirelessly to bring the leaders of the riot to justice.

Her problems were not over with yet, Breckenridge had survived the attack and another move on him would only lead to further suspicion. His rally of the Federalists and other minor parties in a coalition against the Democratic Socialists had been unsuspected. She had no idea that the Engellpox crisis in that backwater shithole the West Engell Republic would lead such a quick weakening of Dem Soc power in Sylvania.

"Sixty years of careful planning and manipulation undone by frozen, inbred, cousin fuckers." She thought to herself.

Now the cousin fuckers to the south were planning on undoing all the inroads they had made in Beautancus. Sylvanian Democratic Socialism was on the backfoot. To add to her problems now her own Generals wer bad mouthing her on television and in print media. Snyder ceased her pacing and stared down the Director of Defense. A moment later, Major General William Tully was in front of her.

"Your crass comments have only served to undermine the public trust in my government, you had no right to speak the way you did. You violated several codes of ethics and your general behavior has made you unfit for the uniform you are wearing. I am removing you from command and the Director of Defense here has your retirement papers drawn up. You will not serve another day in the Continental Army for this offense, at least not as a commanding officer of any unit. The Department of the Continental Army will handle your out-processing. Dismissed.

William Tully smiled, "Well I guess I won't need to ask permission to speak freely then. You got something coming to you. One more fuck up in your string of colossal fuck ups and you are gonna find yourself at the end of the rope. Those militia boys could have rolled up here and had you spit roasted on that spiked fence out there if they really wanted to. The only thing that saved you from it was 5th ID. I reckon a lot of those boys in any branch of the military would have liked to see it happen."

"Get him out of here!" Snyder snapped. Two Federal Protection Squadron agents grabbed the now former general and escorted him out of Cairnwood.

"Get Ellington over here, we need to figure out a way to turn this around."
 

The Federation

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RevolverZeek
The Coonan-Wikström Arms Corporation existed in some form or another since 1705, one hundred and twenty three years before the independence of the Continental Republic from the Great Northern Empire and a member of the Coonan family had been there every step of the way. From the founding of the company as the J. Coonan and Sons Gunsmithy, to the formation of the Coonan Armory to support the arming of the newly formed Continental Army, to the purchase of the Wikström Arms Corporation in 1935 to become it's final iteration as the Coonan-Wikström Arms Corporation. The company had survived three different conflicts in the history of Sylvania, never failing to deliver the much needed weapons they made to whoever was buying, whether it was a rifle for civilian ownership all the way up to big defense contracts. That would change however on this day as William Coonan's secretary picked up the office phone.

Bill Coonan did not have a fancy office, his office just like his ancestor's was, near the plant floor where he could have easy access to the production lines of the massive facility that had grown from a small shop over the many years. The buzzing and stamping of presses of all sorts could be heard even in the office and over the phone as Bill walked over to answer the call.

Bill's secretary Nadine had put the caller on hold, "It's the DOD, Bill." Everyone in the front office was on a first name basis, the company was always family owned and so therefore employees were treated like much beloved family. It was an old fashioned way of doing business, but Bill wouldn't have it any other way.

A call from the DOD was not unexpected, but usually these calls were scheduled in advanced, Bill was a busy man and so where the people over at DOD. Bill closed the door to his office, picked up the phone and answered.

"Bill Coonan, speaking."

"Bill its Glenn Dahlberg." Glenn Dahlberg was director of defense and it was unusual that he would make the call himself instead of work through some intermediary.

"Uhh, Glenn, this is a bit strange, whats going on?" Bill answered, now puzzled about the nature of the call.

"That order for Furlanie, the three hundred thousand M1963's? I am putting a stop order on that. This comes all the way from the top. I can't say anymore than that."

"What the hell Glenn?" Bill said a bit angry, "I had approval for that sale! I suppose the next thing you are going to tell me is that I can't tell my client there is a stop order from on high."

"You got that right." Glenn's voice did not betray any emotion over the matter. "When I can tell you more about it, I will, otherwise you are going to have to just follow our orders on this one. I'll have a cover story made up for you, it'll be rock solid."

"Alright, you got it then." Bill said in a resigned tone. He hung up the phone and dialed down to the production line that was handling the Furlanie order. "Stop the line and get your boys up to the conference room, we gotta talk." An affirmative come back through the phone and Bill hung up. He wondered what the cover story would be as he made his way to the conference room.
 
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