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Author Topic: The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)  (Read 1834 times)

Offline bigbaldben

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The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)
« on: June 04, 2015, 10:39:43 PM »
Captain Tabitha Xitar was waiting in the lobby in full dress uniform.  She had a plan, of course.  She was going to shake Prime Minister Octavius Silvercrone’s hand and say something poignant  about how honored she was that she was being recognized for her hard work, and how much she owed to her team.  Prime Minister, however, did not look like he was going to stop to chat.  He smiled, grabbed Xitar’s hand and looked directly into her eyes but kept moving.

The Captain did a little jump step and fell in line alongside Silvercrone.  “Prime Minister,  it is a pleasure to meet you…”

“And you, Captain,” said Silvercrone looking straight ahead and now walking even more quickly than before.  Xitar couldn’t keep up, and she fell behind into the throng of advisors and government agents.  She was jostled, then actually shoved aside by one of the aides.  She lost her balance, and fell into a fake potted plant.   The battle-hardened Ughlug tried to scramble to her feet, but her shoes slid on the slick floor and she fell again, losing her hat in the process.  She paused to collect herself and noticed that the previously loud lobby had gotten very, very quiet.  She looked up and saw, to her horror, the entire entourage, including Prime Minister Silvercrone, had stopped in their tracks and were all looking at her.  Staring.

She felt herself turn red, and as she got up, the crowd seemed to move in closer.   Looks of scorn and contempt were on every face.  And then they multiplied.  They were more and more people coming to look.  The walls of the building began to sway, then evaporated , and the group of people became a multitude as far as the eye could see.  They were openly hostile now and began shouting at her.  She couldn’t quite grasp what they were berating her about, but it didn’t matter.  They were closing in on all sides.  She felt her hand go to her holster when she heard her squad-mate to her right.  “Kill ‘em Z.  Kill ‘em all.”  It only seemed to spur the crowd on.  She felt several pairs of firm hands on her, and could feel their hot breath on her face.  There was nowhere left to run and no way out.  She closed her eyes, drew her weapon and started firing.  At the sound of the first shot, she opened her eyes just in time to hit the alarm and fall exhausted back into her bed.


General Brentow was losing, and he had no opponent.  He was briefing the Prime Minister and his advisors on the successes of his troops in taking down the Ascendancy once and for all.

The Prime Minister was on edge.  The General could sense it, and was using all his tricks of presentation, pacing and soothing to get Silvercrone in a better mood for the ending.  Brentow knew his request for more money, men and time would be a downer, to say the least.  If Silvercrone was already at rock bottom, it would be difficult to bring him back to reasonable at that point.

“General!” said Silvercrone, interrupting from the head of the table.  “Can we get to the meat please?  Have we eliminated the root?”

Brentow hesistated.  He despised being asked direct questions by those in command.  Mainly because it was a technique that he used on his own men so they would not waste time searching for an acceptable answer.  Which is exactly what Brentow tried to do.

“Sir, the situation is fluid, but as I’ve pointed out we have been making substantial progress…”

“No.  The answer is no, then,” said Silvercrone.  The General tried to protest but Silvercrone held out his hand, palm up.  “No more.  You have been on the job for six months.  You’ve been given everything you’ve asked for – troops, money, intelligence support, cooperation from Mordant.  Yet every time you come back here and tell me that the job is done, less than a week later we have another Ascendancy-claimed incident and back out you go, with more money, more troop, more intelligence support…”

“Yes sir, but we have located what we believe is the last stronghold…”

Silvercrone leapt from his chair.  “You have believed that each time you’ve come here!!  Each time it is the ‘last stronghold!’”  He pounded the table for emphasis, then straightened himself to get his composure.  “You are dismissed, General, thank you.”

“Sir, what are your orders for …”


The General bristled but tipped his cap and walked out of the room slowly and calmly, his aides scrambling to gather all the papers and materials to follow him out.

Once they were gone,  Silvercrone poured himself a scotch and sat down.  His security advisor, Carter Kofflen was sure to sit quietly and passively to Silvercrone’s right.  Domestic Advisor D’lia Terkuller sat across from Kofflen, and she tipped him off to Silvercrone’s behavior in cabinet-level meetings and Rhand Drenton, to her left, had given Kofflen some tips on how to handle it.  Kofflen wondered if B’linda Venatria, the new Foreign Ambassador, had been given the same courtesy.  If so, she was ignoring the advice because she was squirming, wide-eyed and clearly uncomfortable.

“Kofflen,” Silvercrone said.  “How much of what the General said can be verified?”

“All of it.  He has beaten down every door, turned over every rock in Mordant and killed or imprisoned anyone with a sniff of involvement with the Ascendancy.”

“What of Comdantri Nortellus?  And the tribes to the south?  Are we sure they are not harboring Ascendancy leadership?”

“Nothing to our west and nothing to our south except unbridled contempt for the Ascendancy.  Truth be told, both are in frenzies themselves lynching and shooting anyone even suspected of being associated with them.  It is open season, sir, and it is disturbing.”

“Fine, get MPsych to send agents to both places immediately and begin to restore order.”  Silvercrone grimaced in frustration.  “I don’t want us to get involved but we can’t very well have frothing masses on two borders, even if they are ‘on our side’ now.  When we get the Ascendancy cleaned up, they’ll have to turn that rage somewhere, and suddenly we might not be the good guys anymore.”

“Will do, sir.”

“And about that clean up – your info synchs up with the General?”


“That we’ve got a bead on their leadership.”

“Yes sir.  Multiple corroborating reports from all military branches and MPsych confirm what we’ve been hearing.  The last of the Ascendancy leadership is literally underground, below a small island off the coast of South Mordant.  They have approximately 250-300 troops.  The General has all branches ready to storm the island at your order.”

“No, I’m not ordering that.  Tell the General that I don’t want a single troop setting foot on that island or even looking in that direction.  Give no indication we’re even thinking about it.”

“Sir, there’s no doubt we would overrun them in minutes,” said Kofflen.

“We’ve seen it a hundred times now,” said D’lia.  “One or two get away and within six weeks we have the same size problem again.”

“We’re pretty sure they are shipping in mercenaries,” said Kofflen, “but where they are continually getting the money to do so is a mystery.”  The room became quiet as they all felt the enormity of the situation.  Venetria absent-mindedly tapped her nails on the table.

Silvercrone was the first to speak.  “I suggest we send in a STRAFER (Stealth Reconnaissance And Force Engagement Resolution) Team – two at the most – very quiet, very deadly and very efficient.  Their priority will be to eliminate the Ascendancy leaders and destroy the base.  But -” Silvercrone paused.  D’lia had seen that look on his face before and knew the gears inside were grinding.

“What if,” he continued, “we allowed one or two of them to ‘escape,’ then trail them to see how they go about rebuilding so quickly.”

Venetria stifled a laugh.

“Too risky,” said Venetria.  “You can’t be seriously considering this.  If they truly do escape, we’re right back where we started.”

“We can’t keep doing the same thing over and over and expect different results,” said Drenton.

“It’s worth a shot,” said D’lia.  “But if we’re going to do this, we have to do it right.  One or two STRAFER teams, intelligence on who the remaining leaders are, and an MPsych recommendation on the best candidates for escape.”

“That’s perfect,” said Kofflen.  “I’ll gather the intelligence but I expect the General will not like this plan, and may try to stall.”

“Fire him.  Or make him retire.  Or whatever it is you do when officers reach the end of their usefulness,” said Silvercrone.  “I’ll make the call to MPsych.  We good?”

“Actually, sir,” said Drenton, “B’linda has some interesting news that might fit in well with your plan.”

“Yes,” Venatria said, her shoulders pushed back and nose stuck far into the air, Kofflen noticed.  “The Allied States of Bustos have been inquiring about the eradication of the Ascendancy.”

“I’m sure,” said D’lia.  “They’ve got reason enough to want to do it themselves.”

“Precisely,” said Venatria.  “During my last conversation at the embassy, I was led to believe they are very interested in offering their services.  Given our newfound state of friendship, they are reluctant to reach out, for fear that it may be taken as an insult.”

“That our forces aren’t competent enough,” said Kofflen.

“Yes,” said Venatria.  “I was led to believe that should I make it known that we would welcome their help, they would place an official call to Mr. Kofflen.”

Kofflen raised his eyebrows.  “Well, Prime Minister, they have quite the spec-ops from what I saw during the Summit; they would be extremely effective for a situation like the one we are undertaking.”

“Do you think they would be a good fit?  Will these guys work well with the STRAFERs?” asked Silvercrone.

Kofflen shrugged, but Drenton leaned forward.  “Sir, I don’t know that for sure.  What I DO know is the AS hates the Ascendancy, and they would not offer if they did not truly believe they would be adding something to the fight.”

“Good point,” said Silvercrone.  “Venatria, send the word.  Kofflen, check it out and make the decision.  You’re on to give the green light for one STRAFER and a squad from the Allied States if you're comfortable with it.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2015, 12:50:28 PM by bigbaldben »

Offline Bustos

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Re: The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)
« Reply #1 on: June 08, 2015, 08:39:10 PM »
“This would be an excellent test on the effectiveness of the Ghost Program,” commented the Director of the Office of External Affairs.  She looked over at the Regent, who founded Section Nine that gave birth to the Ghost Program.  The Regent was standing, near the back corner of the Chairperson's office.  He was looking out to the city of Twenty-One through the ceiling to floor window that spanned the entire back wall of the office.  If he was listening, he did not show it.

“Only two successful subjects have come out of the program so far. We'd need to send a team,” replied the Chairperson sitting behind his desk.  The Republic of Megatridimensional Order had accepted their offer of assistance in hunting down the Ascendancy.  They had specifically asked for a Spec Op team for an upcoming operation.

“Well, sending two Ghosts, would be sending two teams.”  The Director beamed with pride.  “But, yes, in any case, sending 1 or 2 people would stand out as odd.  May I suggest we plant them into a Delta team, sir?  The team can think they are fresh Delta replacements.”  Both he and the Chairperson looked to the Director of of the Office of Defense.

The General, as her position was more commonly referred to, was a quiet person.  When she did speak, she was surprisingly soft spoken.  There was a slight pause in the discussion as she continued to look at the OEA Director.  It was a personal amusement of hers to make others feel uncomfortable.  “There is a small team,” she finally said and turned to the Chairperson.  “4 members, that could be expanded to 6,” maintaining a straight face.

“Then see to it and have them deployed as soon as possible.  And if that will be all Directors, I'll see the both of you at the Board meeting.”


“So you aren't going to charge the Megatridimensional Order for our services?” asked the Regent.  Still standing by the back window.

“No.  We'll absorb the costs,” replied the Chairperson as he walked over to the Regent with a small limp and a cane.

“Where's the profit in this?”

“This time, it's not about money.  There are several birds I am trying to kill with one stone.  First, we're sending a message to the Ascendancy that we have not forgotten their transgressions.  Otherwise, others might become bold enough to strike at us.

Second, I am very interested in how good our Ghosts are.

Third, and perhaps most important, the Megatridimensional Order is a good customer and one I wish to keep.  The Ascendancy is bad business.”

“I hope it does not bother you too much that I inquire on your thoughts,” said the Regent as he looked back out the window.  “Some day this will all be yours.  I just want to make sure you are ready.”

“This is all mine,” asserted the Duke.

The Regent let out a small chuckle.  A triggered memory.


“Your father said that once before.”  He smirked.
« Last Edit: June 09, 2015, 01:59:16 PM by Bustos »
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Offline bigbaldben

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Re: The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)
« Reply #2 on: June 15, 2015, 04:39:09 PM »
Xitar sat on her bed cleaning her rifle, her piercing blue eyes focused on the task.  Even in a tank and shorts, she was intimidating.  Her dirty blonde hair was pulled in a perpetual  pony-tail, completely tight but for a few stray strands of hair that were just short enough to escape.  Her second in command, First Lieutenant Iveth Patrine, was sitting on the bunk directly across from here, examining a document.  As she read, the look on her face turned increasingly incredulous, showing her age as deep wrinkles appeared.

"What the hell...?" she said.

"I know, Flipper." said Xitar. "Nobody said being STRAFERs would be easy."

"I don't want it to be easy, Z," said Flipper.  "But it would be nice if it made sense."

Xitar brought the rifle up to eye level and examined.  "It's risky, yeah, but it makes sense."

"But the risk is the part that doesn't make sense!" Flipper protested. "To intentionally let them get away... what if they REALLY get away?

Xitar smirked as she stood the gun up between her knees.  "Have a little more faith in our abilities."

"Tracking someone in the middle of nowhere - in a place they know better than us - a lot could go wrong. I have plenty of faith in our abilities, but circumstances are never favorable, and with this we are one circumstance away from the mission being a complete failure if we let them go."

Lieutenant Pike Novum and his Operator Flange Vixhorn returned to the barracks from the bar.  Swamp and Loamer, as they were known, were both mostly quiet, carried themselves professionally, and both knew 150 ways to kill a man.  Other than that, they didn't have much in common.  Swamp was tall, lean, relaxed and had a jaw chisled from stone.  His head was shaved, and the telltale marks of wearing an Order Guard uniform were visible on his head.  Loamer was a short, musclebound ox who's face was perpetually red.  Whether the complexion seemed more red because of his hair, or the hair seemed more red because of the complexion was hard to determine.

They ambled over to Xitar and Flipper and Swamp sat down on Xitar's footlocker while Loamer flopped on Patrine's bunk.

"Gentlemen," said Xitar, not taking her eyes off her gun.

"What's going on, Cap?" said Loamer.

"This," said Flipper as she slapped the papers down on Loamer's lap.  He picked it up and studied it, then handed it over to Swamp without saying a word.

"What do you think, Loamer?" asked Flipper.

"Seems pretty standard to me."  Swamp handed the documents back over to Flipper.  She looked at him questioningly and he nodded in the affirmative.  Flipper threw up her hands.

"This doesn't set off all sorts of alarm bells for you guys?  Letting two of the leaders get away on the off chance they might lead us someplace important?  Once we're done there, if these guys are normal, they'll probably want to just disappear.  And they've got the advantage of knowing the area!  What if they get away?"

"To where?" said Swamp.

"Yeah," said Loamer.  "they're hated everywhere, especially outside our borders."

"I wouldn't say everywhere," said Xitar.  "Folks in South Mordant might be more accepting since their own government has been bombing them for half a year."

"We haven't been bombing them," said Swamp.  "We've been bombing the Ascendancy."

"No, Cap's right," said Loamer.  "Doesn't make much difference who drops the bombs or who they were intended for when your house and family are hit by one."

"Alright, lades," said Xitar as she put down her rifle.  "Let's get some shut eye.  We leave for Iudicium at 0600."

"Is that where we're meeting the AS Squad?" asked Flipper.

"Yes," said Xitar.

"I still don't get why we need them," said Loamer. "Why can't we just bring in Bravo Company?  We've worked with them just fine before."

Xitar shrugged.  "Don't know, don't care.  We work with who we are ordered to work with."

"Yeah, but we don't have to like it," said Swamp.
« Last Edit: June 15, 2015, 07:33:49 PM by bigbaldben »

Offline Myroria

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Re: The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)
« Reply #3 on: June 24, 2015, 02:16:08 PM »
"I need to see the Foreign Minister," Sarandas said. The woman he was talking to, dressed like a secretary, sat behind a huge desk that seemed to dwarf her. She looked shocked for a minute and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"I ain't her scheduler, Mister...uh?"

"Sarandas Raraniseth." He was the type of man to assume everyone knew who he was, and to take the time to make sure everyone knew who he was. "The Royal Chamberlain. I need to see the Foreign Minister, and this is her office. So who are you?"

The woman ashed her cigarette in a tray on the desk.

"The stenographer."

"Where is her scheduler?"

"Why would I know?"

Sarandas frowned. "You're not much help." The woman scoffed.

"Is the Minister in there?"

"I think so. I don't know." the woman said.

"This seems like a casual way to run a country."

Sarandas reached for the door, but paused to knock. "Come in!" said a voice.

"Hello, Sarandas." the Foreign Minister said. She didn't bother to look up from her typewriter.

"Hello, Morvene. Did Her Majesty call?"

"We spoke briefly."

"I brought some files." Morvene finished the line she was typing and stood up.

"Let's sit at this table," she said, motioning to a table in the corner of the room with two chairs on either side of it. Morvene stood five-foot-five, but carried herself like she was five-foot-nine. Her hair, like most Myrorians', was dark and curly, but graying around the temples with age. It fell to her shoulders. She wore a long skirt, as she always did, below a blouse and blazer. When she sat she crossed her legs, mumbled a "gimme one" to Sarandas, and placed the file on her knee.

Sarandas sat opposite the Foreign Minister and opened his own copy of the file on the table in front of him.

"I know all about the Ascendency," Morvene said. "I was part of the team handling their representatives to Peté's court. This was back when they had a chance,"

"Well, Her Majesty takes a very different view towards them than her predecessor. She wants them gone."

"They're jeopardizing our treaty," Morvene replied.

"Yes," Sarandas said. He reached inside his jacket pocket for a cigarette, but remembered he quit. Immediately after he got a headache.

"I don't disagree," Morvene said. "They're definitely a problem."

"Her Majesty wants to send in Section Six. But we need the support of the Foreign Office on this."

Morvene flipped through more pages of notes, histories, and pictures.

"The Megatrine Republic is tight on security. Information. Section Six needs something to work with here before we send them in. A factbook. Something we can brief them with."

Morvene nodded as she read the files. She moistened her lips before speaking.

"I can get people on this, but we're looking at decades of secrecy and isolation. All the information I do have is years old. And this isn't Letonna or Ozia; you could line their pockets all day and get nothing out of it. We'll need some time."

"Well," Sarandas began. "Time is a concern here. Intelligence thinks the Bustians might be involved on the Megatrine side. Her Majesty is, of course, concerned about a monopoly over the Megatrine. Economic or otherwise."

Morvene sighed. "I'll get a team on it. Give us four days, and check back in."

Sarandas smirked like a used car salesman and stood up. "It's always a pleasure working with you, Morvene."

Morvene stood up as well. She shook his hand, but only smiled out of politeness. "You too, Sarandas."
"I assure you -- I will be quite content to be a mere mortal again, dedicated to my own amusements."

Offline Bustos

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Re: The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)
« Reply #4 on: September 04, 2015, 03:36:16 PM »
“So when's the briefing,” asked the Sergeant of Delta Recon Team Ten, who stood up in the small quarters assigned to the team.

“Captain told me we're getting all the information once we enter port,” replied the Delta Lieutenant as he remained laying down in the top bunk, trying to get some sack time.

“And what about the fresh meat we have coming in?”

“And what of them,” inquired the L.T keeping his eyes closed.

The sarge leaned in on the lieutenant's bunk, “It's always been the four of us.  Now we got two greenies coming along with us.”

“They aren't fresh meat or greenies.  They're Delta.  That's good enough for me and most definitely good enough for you.  Now let me get some sleep Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”


The two newest members of Delta Recon Team Ten arrived on a Blackhawk that just landed on the helipad of the ASS Rearick, a Wasp-class ship that had an escort of two frigates.  They grabbed their duffel bags and hopped out, and were greeted by the Master Chief.

“Welcome aboard the Rearick,” yelled the MC to be heard over the Blackhawk.  “I'm Master Chief Morton, I'll show you to your quarters to stow your gear.”


The new 6 man Delta Recon Team met for the first time in the galley of the ship for supper.  The original 4 man team, comprised of the LT, Master Sergeant, Sergeant, and the Corporal.  Now two new Sergeants, First Class, joined the team.

The inquiring Sergeant had often expressed his displeasure of the having two new members on the team.  It wasn't the fact he didn't know them as much as, “If it ain't broke, then don't fix it.”  He felt the additional 2 men was the brass' way of saying they weren't good enough for this mission on their own.  Fuck that shit.  But he knew to keep that to himself when meeting and working with the FNGs (Fucking New Guys).

“Holy shit man!” the Sergeant said with surprise as the original 4 entered the galley.  The LT closed his eyes and dropped his head for a second.  He had warned the Sergeant about his personal feelings of the new members.  To the shock of his LT and teammates, the Sergeant had ran over and hugged one the FNGs.

“Haven't seen you since graduation man!  What happened to you?  I heard you got sent into a black program or something.”  The Sergeant still holding the FNG, who he went through Delta training with and his best friend since Hades Twelve, the boot camp of the Allied States military.  He let him go and noticed his rank, “Looks like you got promoted a few times as well.”

The FNG after being let go, smiled back.  “Yeah, it was just an advanced sniper course, really.  Seen some action here and there.”  He knew he couldn't tell his best friend that he, or his other new teammate, had gone through the Ghost program.  “This guy is my good luck charm and my spotter,” pointing to the man sitting down at the table besides him.  The Spotter just nodded as he continued to eat his meal.

“Don't mind him, he doesn't talk much.  But he'll always have your back.”  The Sniper looked over to the rest of the team, who were watching, with amusement, the irony of the situation.  “Come on, get some grub and join us.  Maybe you guys can tell us what's this mission is all about.”
« Last Edit: September 04, 2015, 03:46:14 PM by Bustos »
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Offline bigbaldben

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Re: The End Of The Ascendancy (1984)
« Reply #5 on: September 15, 2015, 06:35:29 PM »
Kofflen wasn't much for easing in to a conversation.  He took a seat in front of the Prime Minister's desk and waited until Silvercrone motioned for him to speak.

"Two issues on the South Mordant Op. First, MPsych wants to embed two Order Guards with the STRAFER Team.  Second, Myroria is asking a lot of questions and offering assistance of their own."

"Goddammit" said Silvercrone.

"Which one, sir?"

"Both of them."  Silvercrone lit up a cigarette and ran his hand through his dark hair.  "Start with MPsych.  Under what pretense?"

"It's the MPsych, sir.  There is no pretense. They aren't even feigning a reason why.  They're MPsych and they control the military and if you don't like it..."  Kofflen hesitated.

"Fuck you?" said Silvercrone.

"Yes, fuck you, sir."

"And obviously they don't care if infighting dooms the mission," Silvercrone said, as much to himself as to Kofflen.  "I'll call Carver, but his hands will be tied, I'm sure. Check back with me tomorrow, but otherwise prepare to acquiesce."

"And Myroria?"

"Where the hell is Venetria on this?"

"She brought it to my attention, sir.  Apparently Myroria is concerned that Bustos will use this opportunity to monopolize trade, or at least gain 'most favored status.'"

"They must think we're complete morons on economy," grumbled Silvercrone.

Kofflen shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  "Well..."

Silvercrone raised his hand and cut him off.  "Ok, fine, they're right about that, given our track record... wait!"  Silvercrone jumped forward in his seat like he was going to pounce across the desk, and Kofflen fought the instinct to protect himself.

"Wait....how in the great name of Taiji did Myroria know about this op?"

"I don't know sir."

"How can we be so great at intelligence gathering and so poor about protecting it?"

Silvercrone asked with such conviction that Kofflen almost felt obliged to answer, but held his tongue.

"Sir, they want to send a Section Six squad to join the op."

Silvercrone stretched out his right arm and put his head down on his desk with a miserable groan.  Kofflen was already getting tired of this version of Silvercrone - a far cry from the one he thought he knew before his advancement into the inner circle.

"Ok," said Silvercrone, sitting up and smoothing his suit.  "So we've got the Ascendancy trapped, and a plan that will need maximum efficiency, communication and trust.  To carry out that plan, we have to hope that four STRAFERs and two Order Guard don't kill each other, a Bustos squad and Myroria squad with intentions unknown, and who could quite possibly end up killing each other, but probably only after sabotaging the operation and killing whatever of our guys aren't already dead."  Silvercrone laughed, and not in a way that made Kofflen secure in the sanity of the PM.

"What could possibly go wrong?"  Silvercrone took a long draw on his cigarette.

"Who is running the op?"

"General Cassius."

"Pull him off.  I want the Razor leading this op."

Kofflen, normally unflappable, almost fell out of his chair. "General Wycroft?  Sir, you can't be ser-?"

"As a heart attack.  He is either psychotic enough to make this work, or it will be such a disaster that we can lay it all on him.  Make it happen."

Kofflen sat there with his mouth open until Silvercrone snapped his fingers.

"Hey!  Do it."

"Yes sir," said Kofflen, and staggered out of the office.


{Documents obtained during 1983 liberation of the New Terronians.}

General Kik "Razor" Wycroft
Target Assessment and Recommendation
New Terronian Republic, September 1983

Career: Megatrine Order Guard (1970-1972), MPsych Strategic Commander (1972-1973), Megatrine Army General (1973-1981), Megatrine Special Ops (1981-)

Summary: According to the Order's public relations, Wycroft is one of nations most decorated heroes and a shining example of the defense of "Order, Balance, Freedom" motto even at great personal cost, losing his wife and son to a terrorist attack on the same day he took the terrorist organization down.  While there is some truth there, it is far from undisputed that the death his wife and son was at the hands of terrorists, and that his relationship with his family was anything more than name only at that point.  Only four soldiers in history have attempted a transition from the Order Guard to the military, and of those four, only Wycroft succeeded.

He is a brilliant strategist who seemingly places little value on the lives of those under his command.  Responsible for twenty eight operations since 1981, precisely twenty eight ended with multiple Megatrine casualties, compared with an average of 0.4 deaths per operation among all other Generals.  However, he is the only General with over twenty operations, and the only General under which all operations have been unqualified successes.

While the Order has publicly lauded Wycroft, internally they don't know what to do with him.  Most of those who have taken a hard line on Wycroft have either resigned and disappeared or, in a couple of notorious cases, simply disappeared.  Silvercrone has done a decent job keeping him in check.

Target Assessment: High Value

Target Recommendation:  Termination of target is recommended with reservation.  While the loss of his strategic brilliance would be a blow to the Order, there is ample evidence to suggest that the Order continues to spend valuable resources on keeping him in check.  There is also his public image, which, however untrue, may turn him into a martyr should he be terminated, and turn sentiment along the Megatrine border against us.