"I still remember those early days. Those days where everyone was still mourning. People still knew what they had lost, they knew the people they had lost, the memories. Desperation made us this way. It forged us from steel and set us on this path. We do this for the ones who we lost." The men and women of the Koltsevaya Coalition are celebrating the defeat of the bandit stronghold in Buninskaya Alleya. The Rangers responsible for the destruction of the bandits returned early this morning, among them Ranger Commander Nicolai Mikhailov. In recent days people have noticing an increase in Nosalises around many stations, this is believed to be caused by a new break into the Metro from the surface. When asked about the recent increase in hostiles the Ranger Commander replied "A squad of Rangers have already been deployed to search for the opening and close it if necessary or fortify it as a new entrance." In other news, many stations have begun taking territory toward the center of the metro and Rangers have been deployed to ensure no violent clashes occur between station forces. No significant changes in the population of the Koltsevaya Coalition or other major happenings.

Kaiser Nikolaus Jäger looked upon the frozen expanse of his nation's water source. Looking behind him, a swarm of green chanted "Death to the Fourth Reich! The Confederations will remain supreme!"

Tod dem Vierten Reich. Die Konföderationen wird höchste bleiben!

Yet on the east of the lake, red was the banner of choice. The Führer Jakob Schmidt rallied his men. Lake Constance was nearly the last source of fresh water in all of Groß Deutschland. With the seal of the Confederations, Jäger boldly gave the order: "Attack the insurgent scum! They are no more than dogs claiming to be Germany!"

Angriff der Aufständischen Abschaum! Sie sind nicht mehr als Hunde, die behaupten, von Deutschland zu sein!

A great battle followed. The sounds of rifles filled the air, and the air forces went ahead into dogfights. Divided directly down the middle, no side seemed to gain ground. No trenches could be dug, just slaughter on the ice that would drown them. It was only 30 seconds before the first troop of the Rheinland died. As blood spilled on the ice, the two leaders attempted to make each other out through observation technology. Just when Rheinland was gaining meaningful ground, the Fourth Reich called in an airstrike. The line was exposed, and a sea of crimson marched toward Jäger. It was time for the weapon he had been waiting to unveil. As soon as he gave the signal, 5 elite pilots ran toward the red. All infantry was ordered to immediately retreat. Half of the Fourth Reich army, 500,000 in total, marched within 5 miles of Jäger's camp. He stayed, as a trick, and waved a white flag. They marched faster, but they were too late. A chopper had picked him up, and by now the pilots had laid their trap. All of lake Constance suddenly turned to water for the first time since the apocalypse. Even in the summer, it was frozen over. A few square kilometers went up in flame, but then dispersed just as quickly as they had been laid. Jäger snickered at the sight of the commander's vessel carrying the Führer away.

The Night Before Things were all normal within the Union, things moved on people died and babies were born. Spirits were high seeing as once again The Ashland River Dragons had just beat the Fort Knox Goldiggers in their much smaller version of the super bowl, so people who didn't come from within the Capital were feeling ten feet tall. Throughout the streets of many settlements people celebrated. Hooting and howling, as well as getting drunk on homemade moonshine or the much more expensive "Kentucky Hooch" They were allowed to celebrate but their protectors sat upon the walls watching wishing that it was them their machine guns pointing out of the wall looking for threats outside of them unaware of the ones within. In one of the more popular bars in the capital a place where senators frequented due to the expensive array of alcohol and the loose women who inhabited it. A large bag chimed loudly and then there was a loud explosion that consumed half of the bar in a large fireball, the shockwave blew out windows and killed many who were in it's path, those further away from the blast were deafened momentarily. Almost instantly the military was in action, filling up buckets with water and throwing it on anything that caught fire. Making a line and passing up buckets, and that was the night things changed. The Next Day The weather was mild and the sun still rose on the streets before them were a gathered array of people, the ones in the first few rows were senators, and behind them were widows and orphans dressed in black. Travis Knight sat to the left of Claira the leader of the outriders and his boss, and on her right sat a general who was wearing the pure black dress uniform his father had made for officers. They sat on a stage overlooking the gathered crowd, waiting for his father to emerge from behind the curtain. When he did emerge it was to a entire band playing him off and everyone in the audience bowing down to him head to the ground, when he didn't do it Claira shot him a look and Travis quickly bowed down to his own father. "You may rise my people." His father said, speaking into the microphone that had been provided for him on a podium. Hesitantly they rose and Joseph Knight spoke again. "The Lords of Ruin are claiming this attack! They killed good men and women, they've caused us nothing but grief." He said, and paused looking to the crowd for subtle cues. "I say no more will we let them get away with this, no more will they plague us and cause us harm. We will kill them, and hang their bodies in the streets so we can show anyone like them that we will not take this anymore!" He shouted, his voice speaking with passion and fervor that even the most devout priest would be hard to match. "We go to war today! And we will kill any who oppose us!" He shouted, and there were claps and whoops among the crowd. "This will not stop until they lie broken at our feet." He said, and turned away from the podium people now clapping and hollering. The sound was deafening as Travis watched his father walk off the stage and into the horse drawn carriage he rode around in. Gently he rose and Claira met his eyes and nodded. It didn't take long for the officers to meet, they were sat around a large oaken table in a meeting room within Fort Knox itself, they had been talking about what they were going to do for over half a hour and they finally agreed on a plan of action. So they were just starting to file out of the room, soon enough it was just Travis and Claira sitting alone in the meeting room and she turned to him. "So you think you're actually fighting don't you?" She asked him, Travis tensed and looked to her. "I'm not fighting?" He asked. "And risk the life of the presidents only child? You think i enjoy the thought of dying. No instead me and you are going on a nice little road trip to Missouri. We got some things to trade off, perhaps we can get something good out of them. We are still looking for a old world flag after all." "I guess that sounds alright." "Hah it will be fun, riding the worms. Making camp under the stars, much better than being shot at constantly i assure you." Travis said nothing, instead he rose and walked out of the room without waiting to be dismissed. He was pissed, people had coddled him for all his life because he was the presidents son and now even his commander was doing it he should of been fighting but he would go along with this mission, perhaps something would happen to him anyways.

Asia China Xinjiang Region The Kunlun Mountains G219 Ran decided that he hated these mountains. Under normal circumstances, Ran was fine with mountains. He had even lived on a few. The surrounding slopes and ridges were entirely unlike any other king of mountain range Ran had ever heard of though. Where the ground didn't have the texture and color of dead, pockmarked flesh, it the color of dusken rust. The air was freezing, but also dry and stale. These mountains had more in common with the Lunar surface than with anything else, and having to be in them was so far proving to be a thoroughly shitty experience. They wouldn't have even been here if it hadn't been for the old-world roadmap they had found, showing a convenient route leading straight from Xinjiang to Tibet, the only road in all of China to do so, cutting a more or less straight path straight through the mountains. The only other route through the Qinghai region looped around and was more than four times longer. At the time cutting through the mountains on the G219 'highway' had seemed like a good idea, given the convoy's limited fuel. Looking back, Ran was of the opinion that they should have just forgotten about going to Tibet entirely. Calling the G219 a highway was a generous description for the single-lane, eroded, winding road. Steeply inclined, winding and turning so often Ran was convinced they weren't even heading South, and frequently the whole thing would simply vanish into dead rock or mud without a trace. Had it been up to Ran, the entire convoy would have turned around days ago. Nailtooth was adamant though - the convoy was to push on. The one grace was that the mountains, at least for the moment, seemed devoid of mutants - the scouts Nailtooth sent out every time the convoy stopped at a dead end to rediscover the trail never saw anything strange. A few hours ago, the road had vanished into bedrock again, sharply inclined and ridged. The road reemerged just a few dozen meters down, but then turned into a U and vanished again. Nailtooth had ordered the entire convoy down the ridges, which were too steep for any of the trucks to go back up - and so now they were all stuck until the scouts could find the road again. And so Ran leaned against the front of the idling truck at the head of the convoy, trying to steal what little warmth remained from the rapidly cooling engine as he stared at the great natura masterpiece that was Empty Night Sky over Barren Hills of Rocks. He readjusted the strap for his AK-74 uncomfortably as he tried to keep it steady on his back while folding both hands under his arms. Another factor contributing to his dislike of the mountains here, he had drawn the lot for guard duty the entire last week. He'd only had scant break shifts in the truck where they kept all the food, and every night he had slept in ragged blankets instead of one of the sleeping bags. He wasn't going to complain - Nailtooth didn't take any shit. The last people to complain had been stripped, tied up, and then rolled down a crevice. But if things didn't change soon, one way or another, Ran was seriously considering making a break for it with as much food as he could carry. If there was one thing he would miss, it would be the women they had picked up being kept in the rear van. Surviving for future conquests was more appealing still than being stuck in a rut, but nonetheless, for now he just waited. Last time he had looked at the map, they had been nearing some kind of station just before the convoy had run across the dead end. Perhaps things would start turning around soon. There was a distant series of cracks, and Ran felt three small objects thud into his chest. He slumped, fell, and died before he hit the ground. The entire convoy erupted into chaos as gunfire began to crisscross from both sides of the road, muzzle flashes blooming seemingly from thin air. A few of the convoy guards managed to unstrap their weapons and return fire, but in the darkness they couldn't see the forms of their attackers, blending in with the mud and the rocks almost perfectly. Even the flash from their gunfire didn't help, as it came and went in bursts and waves, improbably coordinated to deny the convoy any chance of drawing a bead on their attackers. In the end, only three of the raiders survived. Their assailants, numbering five in total, were dressed in roughshod fatigues and mismatched ballistic armor - but they all carried seemingly pristine TAR-21s, and they moved in completely silence, using only brief hand signals as they swept through the line of stalled trucks. All of them wore bands of dull, intertwined green and yellow cloth wrapped around their necks, but otherwise lacked any distinguishing marks. Once they had disarmed the three raiders that had surrendered, they executed them on the spot and spent the next ten minutes checking every body to make sure each of the intruders was truly dead. They left the various affects and items the corpses carried untouched. Next they searched all four of the trucks. They opened the heavy rear doors, briefly scanned the interiors, and then closed them. When the five came to the final truck and found the women inside, they finally paused in their otherwise relentless sweep. One of them spoke a number of short, curt phrases in numerous languages. Mandrarin, Hindi, and Mongolian - when the women only returned blank stares, the leader shrugged and closed the doors again, securing the lock that had held them shut. He pulled out a short-range radio and made his report. "Mazha Palace Actual, this is Haungdi Seven Lead, please ready to copy, over." "Roger Lead. Ready to receive, over." "Interception is successful, no casualties, twenty four confirmed takedowns. Bandit liquid assets include four trucks, bulk shipment, twenty gallons of gasoline, several provision crates, eleven sleeping bags, two space heaters, various small arms, ammunition, affects, and seven slaves. Over." "Roger Lead, copy is complete. Yali force will converge on the asset site via the Zenith pathway and will secure the recorded materials. Your orders are to recall to Mazha Palace Zulu immediately, over." "Wilco, out." The leader pocketed the radio and made a gesture to the other four militants. They all fell into single-file and tracked off the road, vanishing into the steppes. Kunlun Mountains Mazhada La The Mazhada lamasery, even in its glory days, had never been anything more than a small stone shack next to a stone bridge traversing the muddy end of a mountain rapid. Being so small, its few occupants had vacated shortly after the end of the world to seek refuge in one of the larger lamaseries. Now it was simply being used as a Squad resupply and rest stop. Haungdi Seven shuffled in one by one, silently picking out space on the floor to sit down and start stripping their rifles for maintenance. "The trucks had Russian markings." One of the militants said conversationally. "Didn't Fenghuang say there was a city of survivors up there?" "Was. Recent survey says somebody dusted them." The squad leader replied. "May even have been our departed friends. There aren't many other places they could have gotten the gas to run those trucks." "Either that or they ran through after the place was torn down. Personally, I say it was mutants. I keep hearing about twenty foot tall demons that breath lightning." "There has been trickle down regarding mutants somewhere far West. Apparently the closer you get to Central Europe, the bigger and meaner they get. Makes me glad the worst we have to deal with is other people." "Don't get complacent. The militants to the Southwest may be our primary concern, but there have been mutants migrating into Kunlun from every direction for years now. You don't hear about them often because the only places with food tend to be the valleys..." "Which we occupy." The leader finished. "But I am of a like mind. We can't be everywhere at once. There are plenty of crags and crannies where there could be whole nests of mutants. We could search for decades and never find them." The newest member of the squad, fresh out of basic training, finally spoke up. "Also, I think we're all forgetting what's important. Everyone knows we're the last bastion of civilization for thousands of miles in every direction. Eventually everyone will realize it's better to come to us and join rather than fight us. The Yellow Emperor will soon be posed to emerge from Jade Palace Zulu and start reviving the old world." All four of his comrades burst out laughing. "Hey!" He protested. "What's the joke? Everyone knows about that." "Kid, I don't know what you heard in the villages or in training, but there is no Yellow Emperor." The squad leader said, rolling their eyes with a half smile on their face. "There is a Jade Palace Zulu, but it's just a regular Lamasery. It's about fifty klicks from here. Our actual ops center is Qilin Base, in the Aksai Chin." "Wait, that's not what I heard. My last squad leader said Qilin Base was here in Xinjiang." One of the other militants said, frowning as they looked up from their rifle. "Both of you settle down, I've actually been to Qilin Base. It's wedged between Xinjiang and the Chin. It's where all the real action goes on. Most marauders and the worse mutants come from that direction, so that's where the bulk of our forces are mustered. I even saw a few artillery pieces when I was stationed there." "That sounds right. My mistake." The squad leader nodded. "But what about the Yellow Emperor? If he doesn't exist, who leads the Jade Palace?" The rookie asked. The squad leader shrugged. "Some local militia leader who probably managed to convince everyone to work together. Reason it worked here instead of everywhere else is because Kunlun was not burned by the great blaze." "You don't actually know?" The rookie asked incredulously. "No, I don't, but it doesn't matter. You were still at least half right. Eventually, people will realize the Jade Palace is the future, and come to us. And if half of them are as gullible as you, maybe the history books will even have their own Yellow Emperor." Perched lazily on a mound of rock several meters outside the shack, a Qilin lazily flicked its forked tongue at the shack, listening curiously to the barbling animal noises from within. After a few moments it snorted, a small arc of electrostatic energy streaking from its horns and across the surface of the boulder it was resting on. It then leapt forward off into the air and flew away.

New Hope - NORA capital building A Ceiling light kept flickering on & off audibly clicking each time as it struggled for life eventually with a loud clunk-like noise it managed to stay lit illuminating the corner of the office it covered. The president Ron Sterling now returning his attention from the light back to the ongoing meeting of the high council remaining in silence as Volker was finishing his explanation of the latest patrol changes for the northern parts of the republic in his dull but deep sounding voice "And that concludes my report sir! i would just like to add i have also submitted accommodation requests for some junior officers whose quick thinking & abilities have helped resolve several severe matters before they got out of control", With that Volker put down the stack of papers he had outlining his report on the desk. After a brief pause the president spoke up "Thank you Tobias i trust in your judgement on those matters also i will review those requests in due time, Now a pressing matter of business id like to know about before we proceed with anything else!, Mira whats the status with the oil pipeline issue i heard about this morning?". With that the mature dark beauty in the room turned calmly in her chair to face the president across the large office desk smiling confidently "A couple of hours ago it was resolved after the engineers found where the damage was they promptly set-about with the repairs and the pipeline & pump-stations have resumed full operation again, and i have crews out mopping up the oil spillage as we speak, however... this whole issue has caused quite a setback and the refineries are still being brought back into operation to process the crude oil into fuel in Midgar...". Another woman abruptly cut in with her slight but noticeable Russian accent however she promptly turned a bright shade of red in the process "My refineries in Kenai however are fully operational & ever since the pipeline has been restored they've been,.. processing... the... oil...", Her speech slowly dimmed down into mumbling as she noticed the intense glare she was getting from Mira Hawks only now realizing she'd cut her off mid-speech. everyone else besides them two began quietly snickering to themselves at the sight of this before the president cut in again ending the matter. "Very good! see that the repair crews are congratulated for their efforts, i know some of the workforce will still be distressed about the inactivity but there's not much we can do about that just get everything back up to scratch by this evening please", Mira simply nodded in response before reading over the excess paperwork she'd brought from her office not wanting to waste anytime in getting back to work. The kurst brothers barely had any presence in the meeting both simply saying "everything was fine & should continue to run smoothly" before they went back to their private discussion. Even the the visually out of place hulking tank Alexander Hund quietly sat in his chair claiming no pressing matters from the education board. The chief medical official Klein Reik took the opportunity to speak up again pressing the issue again that they need to either start scouting out unexplored areas to gather more medicine or start constructing dedicated labs to create their own for mass production which as normal would of turned into another argument between Mira, Reik, & the kurst twins if the Head of agriculture Innugati hadn't cut in "That is a real concern yes, but as always the republics food supply is of equal if not more concern!" Reik giving a sideways glance at Innugati for that comment as she continued. "what little surplus we had stored got distributed to twin tree & several of the Inuit villages that wont merge with the republic due to very poor crop yields, we really should be focusing our efforts into creating more viable food sources, If we continue as is the shortages are going to get a lot more frequent & severe if the recent estimates of the republics population growth are anything to go by, i Strongly think we should risk long distance broadcasts again in hopes of finding trading partners as a short term boon to this matter". The room went quiet for a bit before the president nodded "I'll consider it, and Reik i know every time i meet or pass you you bring it up trust me i know! but everything still a balancing act at the moment & we can only invest in certain projects decided on by urgency". Then Hoolens tried to jump in saying they should open their boarders to the mutant tribes for better trade but he is shot down & drowned out by the rest of the high council. the meeting continued for another hour before it was dismissed and a tired & weary looking president slumped in the head chair at the table only seconds passed before he noticed Natasha & Nonna were still hanging around. "Hey Nat you're people managed to get access to them yet?", Natasha Liethens shook her head "can't find or bypass the safety locks or activation codes but we're still trying, the security is like nothing any of us have seen thus far, although we made a weird discovery in that underground warehouse we found in old schematics strange vehicles but nowhere for the operators to sit in it i split the teams & let them take a crack at these vehicles instead". The president nodded "fine, just notify me on any significant updates". The president then faced Nonna who seemed an even deeper shade of red then before but before he could speak she'd exited the meeting room, Ron Sterling though confused at the reaction he got just stood up & began heading back to his own office deep in contemplation.

Nikolaus Jäger looked upon the city with his binoculars. He could see the Füher Jakob Schmit looking from the ruins of a skyscraper. He blasted the Vietan Reich war cry on every audio equipment they had available.

Wir werden alten Ställe oder auf den Untergebenen!
[We will reign supreme over the lesser!]

This was no longer a battle of resources–this was a battle of honor.

Someone looking upon Jäger may say he did not possess honor. Looking at his tactics, he granted showed little of combat honor. Indeed, Jäger's honor was complex. He saw no honor in mercy, nor any in diverting his troops to meaningless, open-field violence when it was unnecessary. His code of honor stated, however, that Munich belonged to him, and furthermore, that the Füher's head shall be impaled on it's peak. He was born and raised in Munich. He fled to Mainz after the Fascist Rising, but he never forgot his roots. Schmidt had taken Munich, now Jäger's code demanded that all come to balance. That is how he saw the world: Balance. Now, it was time for fate to add the heights of triumph to the side of the Konföderationen. Not that he believed such things of course, but it was the correct visual metaphor. Regardless of all of this high-minded talk, he had a more practical plan, one involving a fight very imbalanced compared to his philosophies.

Gehen!

An ambush team met at small clearing in the outskirts. A patrol would come soon, hopefully with the Generaloberst with them. There were a few escaped mutants in this part of south Germany, and since they had nothing better to do, they decided to display a show of brute force, led by the Generaloberst. Nothing a few well placed bombs could not handle. Jäger watched from his carefully camouflaged perch, waiting and watching. He waited until the Generaloberst was safely between two bombs, then gave his mark.

Half of the patrol was caught by the bombs, and the rest surrendered. The surrendered would be executed in the public square tomorrow at 5:00 PM, provided they were less than Kommodore. The Generaloberst nonetheless required special orders to make positive she was taken alive. The Konföderationen had been lucky, quite a few officers in the patrol. They were bound in ropes and chains, then duct-taped over the mouth as they marched to the interrogation chambers. As was standard protocol, the last officer to the chamber was shot in front of the Generaloberst as a display of total power. She was frightened. Phase 2 of Jäger's plan would soon go into effect.

Moscow, Russia, Kievskaya Communications Center

At 19:20 hours a man who was cleaning the Kievskaya Communications Center noticed the main terminal in the room light up with a message from afar. A system popup had opened itself on the desktop, displaying stark, program text against a dull and featureless black backdrop.

>Hello?_
>Is anybody there?_

The connection light on the terminal's wireless router was flickering a dull green.

The janitor was shocked and immediately went to the Station Commander and told him about the strange message. The commander rushed to see what the janitor was talking about and sure enough, there on the screen was a message calling out. The commander sat down in front of the terminal and typed back cautiously.

>We are here._
>Who is this?_

Several minutes passed with no response. The network bar on the bottom of the screen was showing a weak signal - probably because they were underground. Any message coming in or going out would probably take a while to be parsed. Finally though, the commander received a reply.

>I Am Traction_
>Who are you?_

The commander though confused continued on in the conversation.

>I am the leader of the Kievskaya Station, Vladimir Alkaev.
>Why have you contacted us?_

The response, again, took several minutes to arrive.

>Station? We know you are somewhere in or around Moscow. Whatever is left of it._
>We are contacting you because you are the first - only - viable connection point we have discovered._
>You say you are a leader?_

The commander smirked at this and replied calmly.

>Moscow, yes. In? Around? No. Under._
>I lead one of the stations that form the Koltsevaya Coalition._
>Now it is your turn, who do you represent?_
-------------------------------
>Underground? Explains terrible connection speed._
>I represent a group far away from yours. Not in Russia. Excuse me if I do not tell you where. We must be cautious._
>You say your station is part of a coalition. We were hoping there would be other remnants of civilization._
>What industrial capabilities do you have?_
-------------------------------
>Industial capabilities?_
>Why would a group far away be interested in our industrial capabilities?_
-------------------------------
>We think that our groups can help each other._
>We are far away, but we know a route, mostly intact, between us._
>We are in need of specific, specialized electronic components._
>These would not be anything made commercially in the old world. What we need was made on an individual basis._
>If you have the industrial capabilities to make what we need, we may be able to do something for you in exchange._
-------------------------------
>We have plenty of scrap electronics and some of our engineers could potentially make what you need._
>But what do we get in exchange?_
-------------------------------
>This will require some context._
>How do you think I am connecting to you right now?_
-------------------------------
>I am no engineer, I simply know how to use this terminal._
-------------------------------
>Your terminal has a wireless network router._
>That router can receive wireless radio signals from other networks._
>But, you are underground, in the middle of hell, with no other functioning networks we could have used to send our own messages._
>In the old world, their civilizations used satellites - up in high orbit - to project and bounce around signals between networks to form the internet._
>Most of those satellites are gone. Their orbits decayed, or else they ran out of fuel, broke down. The internet no longer exists._
>A few satellites still remain though. A few that use solar power for their propulsion systems. _
>Automated subroutines have kept them in a stable orbit even while everyone was busy dying below._
>Right now, we are using one of those satellites to bounce our transmitter signal over to your signal transceiver._
>Even though we have been able to hack and assume control of it, the satellite's software and systems are not sufficiently robust for our purposes._
>We possess the facilities needed to launch satellites as attached payloads of missiles._
>We want to launch a NavCom sattelite into high orbit for our own purposes, but lack several necessary components._
>If you can send us the needed components, we can provide you with realtime, tactical imagery of the Earth's surface. Around Moscow. Or anywhere else._
>Also, it will boost our terrible connection signal._
-------------------------------
The commander was lost at the first wireless and decided to call in his head communications officer to try and explain what was being said. The engineer quickly summarized that Traction was offering access to an eye in the sky for the parts he would need to set up that eye in the sky. The commander stroked his short stubbly beard and decided to call the other station commanders together for a council meeting. He ordered the engineer to tell Traction that the offer was being processed and it would take some time for a decision to be reached.

>Whatever._
>I will contact this terminal again in intervals of 24 hours._
>Make sure it, and the wireless router, is kept on and working._
***YellowQilin has disconnected from the network.***

Congress Building, Chihuahua City
The room was filled with the light murmurs of conversation. It was near time for the day's session to end and there was a lull in the proceedings. Overall, it had been a productive day. They had reached an agreement regarding raising taxes on incoming trade. It was one of the last issues left keeping a budget from being passed. As a result, almost everyone was left in a good mood. At last, a man rose from his seat and walked to the front of the room. He was one of the representatives from Oderña, a town which was receiving a good chunk of the extra tax money generated. He would be the final one addressing the group as a whole today. He stood behind the podium on the platform and, once the group had quieted, began to speak. "Today we have come to consensus on the issue of taxing incoming trade. I would like to thank my fellow congressmen for accepting and enthusiastically supporting this tax increase. The taxes collected will be very beneficial in improving the lives of citizens all throughout Nuevo Chihuahua. I believe that with these extra funds we'll be able to..."

Gabriel Méndez was not paying full attention to what the man was saying. On days like this, the last speaker usually just summarized the day's accomplishments. Today was no different. He had already seen what happened. He was quite active in the discussion over the last few days. In fact he was one of the congressmen to propose the change. Nothing he heard was anything new to him. Méndez took a quick glance to his side. A few rays of lazy sunlight were entering the room through the windows to the left. To his right, a wall filled with old portraits of past Mexican leaders. Men, and a few women, were seated all around him in chairs similar to his, arranged in a semi-circle around the podium. He was seated in the back slightly to the right of the podium. As the speech droned endlessly on, his thoughts began to wander, only paying half attention to the words he heard. His mind was filled with thoughts of his wife and children back home. He rarely saw them due to the nature of his work. He checked the clock on the wall. Quarter to six. They were ending earlier than usual. I'll be home for dinner tonight, he thought to himself with a smile.

The speaker was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The room fell silent as every head turned to stare at the panting young man in the doorway. He was clutching a folder filled with papers in his hands. A barely audible "Message for Congress" escaped his lips as he strode up to the podium. He handed the speaker the report, then collapsed in a chair to catch his breath. The congressman's eyes bulged as he read, not once leaving the paper. After he finished, he took a deep breath and faced the group. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he said solemnly, "I am afraid that I have to announce some tragic news. You should all know of the incident with army outpost Renaldo. We lost contact with it two days ago. At first, we believed this was due to a technical problem. However, the scouting party sent to investigate discovered the remnants of a battle. The outpost was attacked and its armoury was ransacked. No survivors were found but there are still 12 missing. Search parties have been sent to explore the surrounding area. May we catch the sons-of-bitches that did this." Gasps could be heard around the audience as the severity of his words sunk it.

It was going to be a long night.

After the interrogation, Jäger strolled to his aircraft. It was a true beauty, one of the last high invented before the apocalypse: a solar energy plane. Originally built for passenger use, it had been modified to accommodate various guns and bombs. It was painted green, with the Rheinland insignia on both sides. He proceeded to his Class I cabin, along with a few generals. The rest of his bodyguards and cabinet were toward the back in order of importance. Another, similar, plane sat beside him on the runway remnants. Both were carrying the strike team sent to catch the Füher in Brussels, where he was planning an occupation. Brussels as ruled by a few scattered tribes, plagued by starvation. They would easily surrender to whoever came first.

It was not a very long flight, and they landed right next to the city entrance in the rubble that would welcome the Füher. The Generaloberst they had interrogated told Jäger that he would be arriving only with a few trusted bodyguards, as Brussels was being occupied by a strike team coming from the south. Apparently, the Füher always entered on the opposite side of his strike team, as to avoid capture in the scenario of defeat. Good thing we found out.. 120 armed assassins waited on various positions along the entry rout, hidden very carefully. They saw the motorcade.

It was Kommandant Anne Hansburg that fired the shot. Windows shattered, and chaos was in the eyes of all. The bodyguards were quickly captured, interrogated, then executed or detained as appropriate. The Füher's corpse was dragged onto a cooling department in the plane. Jäger had purchased a special piece of old-world tech for the occasion: A preservation tank. So all could see his corpse, positioned for eternity in a damnable grave along the streets of Berlin. Berlin… Open. Waiting to be seized. Althea would be necessary is a patrol around brussels: Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. Then, a surprise attack. Nothing could be sweeter...