06-20-2014, 08:54 PM
"The last of the evacuees are off the ground in Mecca, Ascendancy."
A member of his staff, Carson, a European of British descent, swiped a screen from his hand-held to yet an additional pop up among the many already in view. Nikolai nodded and took over examining the information.
As concentrated as he was on the state of Custody hostages in Mecca, his attention was yet divided around similar, albeit smaller scale, operations ongoing in the rest of the Dominance. To the right scrolled continuous updates from the heads of EoA Consulates each of whom were stirred in the night to begin formulating a plan for damage control. In a very small corner ticked the Tokyo Stock Exchange, Tōshō, the only aggregate of importance to be open at the time. So far, only minor disturbances fluctuated. The DIV market would hold until the CCD's reaction was clear. So much as a flinch from the Ascendancy and entire corporations, worlds away from Mecca, would buckle from the loss of confidence. The address was everything, but nothing was going to be conveyed to anyone until the EoA gave him a more long-term plan beyond the cursory order to send them to hell. Air support would be moving in soon. The Custody navy wasn't in the habit of patrolling their own borders. So much information to assimilate at once, and he was growing tired.
He minimized the screen Carson had provided. The news meant he could take Commander Vellas and Doctor Weston, among others, out of his mind for the time being. It hadn't been a mistake to send them, he reminded himself. Vellas crafted a beautiful Intelligence Plan for the Battlefield that impressed more than one of his generals. Even if it weren't used, and it cost half a billion dollars to get them out, Nikolai learned much about the commander. His potential was unprecedented; and Nikolai preferred to keep a sharp eye on young talent.
The deployment of Custody forces to the perimeters of DV cities would be swift and limited only by the duration of time required to travel from area bases, or in the case of naval support, make their presence in the Red Sea known, a presence that had been there all along, hidden in the waters. The port city of Jeddah was home to a naval base typically focused on excursions around the African continent, but was now turning their ships back toward home. Mecca would soon realize just how far Jeddah's shadow stretched inland when battleships and submarines were aimed their way.
With the clearance of loyal civilians and dignitaries newly arrived for the cancelled Conference, the city could be picked clean of resistance. With the dawn, the insurgents would realize their exhaustion, low supplies, and drained bloodlust, but they would not be given a chance to rest. The code of war, treaties accepted by all modern societies, were continually disregarded by Hasan's men. Human rights, civilian suffering, and military necessity were civil terms tossed to the wind. Nikolai would never consider this disturbance a war, such was beneath both him and the Custody. Whatever it was, he was going to make sure it ended as soon as possible, but he'd be dealing with the aftermath for years. Come dawn, the Custody was going to swat aside this ripple from the night.
He rubbed his eyes.
The clearing of a throat pulled his gaze up. Viktor, his Deputy-Consul Chief of Staff was looked pale. "Ascendancy, there's something you should know."
Worry pulsed deep in Nik's veins. "What is it, Viktor?"
The shut the boardroom doors behind him. Nik recognized the look on the man's face and pressed a button that muted all communication with the exterior. They were effectively alone.
Yet another screen swiped to the air. It replaced the one he'd just minimized, but Nikolai pivoted to study it none the less.
The exhausted face of a young man filled it. Nikolai barely recognized the airport behind him though he'd been watching it deteriorate for hours. In the corner of the screen was overlaid the young officer's name and rank. Captain Istivak, Nikolai read, and glanced back at Viktor.
At a touch, the video played. Viktor prefaced it. "This is one of the men tasked to find Commander Vellas. What he witnessed, well..,"
and Viktor gestured that Nikolai watch for himself.
So he did.
Flame and destruction reflected in the blacks of his eyes. All of it backed by the silhouette of one figure. Nikolai welcomed the familiarity of the scene.
It seemed he would come to realize just how much there was to learn about Commander Vellas. "Bring him to me, tomorrow. I want to meet him myself."
A member of his staff, Carson, a European of British descent, swiped a screen from his hand-held to yet an additional pop up among the many already in view. Nikolai nodded and took over examining the information.
As concentrated as he was on the state of Custody hostages in Mecca, his attention was yet divided around similar, albeit smaller scale, operations ongoing in the rest of the Dominance. To the right scrolled continuous updates from the heads of EoA Consulates each of whom were stirred in the night to begin formulating a plan for damage control. In a very small corner ticked the Tokyo Stock Exchange, Tōshō, the only aggregate of importance to be open at the time. So far, only minor disturbances fluctuated. The DIV market would hold until the CCD's reaction was clear. So much as a flinch from the Ascendancy and entire corporations, worlds away from Mecca, would buckle from the loss of confidence. The address was everything, but nothing was going to be conveyed to anyone until the EoA gave him a more long-term plan beyond the cursory order to send them to hell. Air support would be moving in soon. The Custody navy wasn't in the habit of patrolling their own borders. So much information to assimilate at once, and he was growing tired.
He minimized the screen Carson had provided. The news meant he could take Commander Vellas and Doctor Weston, among others, out of his mind for the time being. It hadn't been a mistake to send them, he reminded himself. Vellas crafted a beautiful Intelligence Plan for the Battlefield that impressed more than one of his generals. Even if it weren't used, and it cost half a billion dollars to get them out, Nikolai learned much about the commander. His potential was unprecedented; and Nikolai preferred to keep a sharp eye on young talent.
The deployment of Custody forces to the perimeters of DV cities would be swift and limited only by the duration of time required to travel from area bases, or in the case of naval support, make their presence in the Red Sea known, a presence that had been there all along, hidden in the waters. The port city of Jeddah was home to a naval base typically focused on excursions around the African continent, but was now turning their ships back toward home. Mecca would soon realize just how far Jeddah's shadow stretched inland when battleships and submarines were aimed their way.
With the clearance of loyal civilians and dignitaries newly arrived for the cancelled Conference, the city could be picked clean of resistance. With the dawn, the insurgents would realize their exhaustion, low supplies, and drained bloodlust, but they would not be given a chance to rest. The code of war, treaties accepted by all modern societies, were continually disregarded by Hasan's men. Human rights, civilian suffering, and military necessity were civil terms tossed to the wind. Nikolai would never consider this disturbance a war, such was beneath both him and the Custody. Whatever it was, he was going to make sure it ended as soon as possible, but he'd be dealing with the aftermath for years. Come dawn, the Custody was going to swat aside this ripple from the night.
He rubbed his eyes.
The clearing of a throat pulled his gaze up. Viktor, his Deputy-Consul Chief of Staff was looked pale. "Ascendancy, there's something you should know."
Worry pulsed deep in Nik's veins. "What is it, Viktor?"
The shut the boardroom doors behind him. Nik recognized the look on the man's face and pressed a button that muted all communication with the exterior. They were effectively alone.
Yet another screen swiped to the air. It replaced the one he'd just minimized, but Nikolai pivoted to study it none the less.
The exhausted face of a young man filled it. Nikolai barely recognized the airport behind him though he'd been watching it deteriorate for hours. In the corner of the screen was overlaid the young officer's name and rank. Captain Istivak, Nikolai read, and glanced back at Viktor.
At a touch, the video played. Viktor prefaced it. "This is one of the men tasked to find Commander Vellas. What he witnessed, well..,"
and Viktor gestured that Nikolai watch for himself.
So he did.
Flame and destruction reflected in the blacks of his eyes. All of it backed by the silhouette of one figure. Nikolai welcomed the familiarity of the scene.
It seemed he would come to realize just how much there was to learn about Commander Vellas. "Bring him to me, tomorrow. I want to meet him myself."