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To VMC Survivors W/ Black Arm Bands - (Open Frequency)

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*William heaves a sigh, and winces as Dr. WIlson pries another chunk of shrapnel from his side.  He depresses the PTT with a grunt*

To the survivors of the VMC firefight, we want to contact everyone that’s still breathing, specifically the gentlemen wearing the Orel uniforms and black armbands: Contact us on 69.9 and we will arrange for safe passage of all remaining leadership for a meeting, in an effort to de-escalate relations between us.  Contact us on this frequency as soon as possible, to arrange a face-to-face.

*He briefly releases the PTT as Dr. Wilson tweezers out another chunk of metal.*

This entire interaction was a grievous error. We had, (what we believed), reliable intelligence that several individuals matching your exact description were hunting the Regulators, (our allies).

We wish to cease any hostilities with one another, and work on building peaceful relations.

We should be cooperating, not killing each other.
*William groans as the morphine finally kicks in, and his vision goes a bit fuzzy.*

We desire to make things right, and want to provide medical care to any who were wounded.  We have many skilled doctors and surgeons on our staff.

*He sighs*

Once again, Storm Front, the Regulators, and the Northern Order aspire to resolve this situation without bloodshed.  There are those out there who have attempted to...impersonate you.  They are the ones responsible for this travesty; they’re the only guilty party in all this.  When we met you at the military complex, we believed that you were lying to us about your affiliation and intentions.

*William rubs the bridge of his nose, stemming the tears which threaten on the heels of the unnecessary pain caused.*

We were mistaken, and for the bloodshed we are eternally sorry.

*He wipes his nose as Dr. Wilson begins wrapping bandages around his torso.*

From this incident, we should dry our tears, heal our wounded, and together, we’ll build a new foundation of liberty and justice.

*William releases the PTT, sighing, waiting with bated breath for a response.*


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-Finnr clicks on the radio-

Intresting information, thank you for passing it on.

It's easy when people hand me the intel rather then me having to work for it.

Thanks for the cooperation.

-Finnr clicks off the radio-

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*Bob nods to William, keying up his own radio, as Dr. Wilson begins cutting away his shredded shirt to prise chunks of metal from his flesh*

I'd like to echo what Will is saying, here.  This shit was a clusterfuck.  We were going on bad intel that was passed to us on a "reliable" source.  Said source is no longer classified as "reliable."

He'll be dealt with.

*He releases the PTT, wincing as Dr. Wilson pulls another chunk of grenade shrapnel from his rib cage.*

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*Jakub, struggling to even hold down the PTT* 

"Where is your invitation to the innocent fucking Civilians you decided to try and gun down eh?"

*He lets out a deep, painful sigh*

"You have fucked up, yet you don't even know who you fucked...and you don't even offer them an invitation to your meeting?"

*He would laugh, but would fall into a coughing fit after it*

"You need to get a real good fucking grip on what your doing out there..You have  a lot of relations to...'de'-escalate..."

*he releases the PTT and struggles into a sleeping bag in the warmth of the compound with his friends nearby*

Edited by ToeZ

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*Bob sighs as he hears the innocent man chime in.*

I recognize that voice.  You have no idea how glad I am to hear that you're still alive.  Brother, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Storm front is offering reparations.  You have no idea how bad I feel about this shit.  Contact me on 69.9, brother.  I understand your anger.  If you need medical help, let me know, and I can have doctors to you asap.

*He rubs his nose, and lights up a cigarette, releasing the PTT.*

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Stradic fiddles with his radio when he stumbles onto an unknown voice. He listens in as he pushes down on the transmit button...

" I suppose it's good to hear that you want to resolve this with words rather than bullets. Thing is, how exactly can you vouch that what you are saying is true and none of this is some sort of trap for these gents? 

This honestly doesn't concern me but its a question you should think of answering otherwise the other party might be inclined to show up as by the sound of things your last meeting ended up in a bloodbath. "

He let's go of the transmit button as he carries on with the task at hand.

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*Bob is roused out of his dreams by Stradic's transmission.  He groggily pushes the PTT.*

Voice sounds familiar... *He mumbles.*

*He shakes his head rapidly, returning himself to a level of consciousness where he can think clearly.*

Sounds...Australian, right?

Listen, it really doesn't concern you, but that's ok.  The only way we can fix this situation is by extending some amount of trust.  To talk shit out.  This is a seriously fucked-up situation.  Blood was shed for no reason, or at least for stupid, fucked-up, mis-understood reasons.  We're trying to fix this.

*Bob sighs, eyeing the morphine drip in his arm, hoping he heals soon enough to get back out there with his family.  He releases the PTT, and eyes Kirov and Jack.*

We need to fix this, guys.  Get on your radios and get the word out about who and what we really are.

*He sighs and depresses the PTT, realizing two others spoke on the channel*

To the uninvolved man and the other...nonentity.  I don't know who the fuck you are, nor do I care.  Um...you're welcome...for the information, I suppose.  It's not exactly uber top secret shit that we're allied with certain people.  Sounds to me like you're trying to be all James Bond-ish.  Have fun with that.  Contact me if you want serious conversation.

*He releases the PTT and passes out from the pain.*

Edited by Loscham

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Edited by alonshaked3

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-Finnr sighs he hears the voice of Ivan Alexeyevich and decides to do the man and his soldiers a favour. he clicks on the radio-

Иван, вы не должны доверять этим людям. Я слышал, Северный орден. У меня было несколько человек, я столкнулся, что сказал мне, что эти люди жалкие разбойники, которые создают для людей в качестве "трейдеров", и эти регуляторы, они должны менты, которые следуют старые законы. И они следуют за бандитами? Вся эта вещь попахивает проблемы для вас и ваших мужчин. Я слышал многое о вас и ваших людей до сих пор. Делать с этой информацией, что вы хотите. Мы встретимся в один прекрасный день, и я надеюсь, что вы не должны проливать собственную кровь или что из ваших людей.

-Finnr clicks off the radio-

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*Bob clears his throat, coughs roughly again, and takes a sip of water before depressing the PTT.*

To the man who spoke only in Russian, I have a guy who understands that.  He told me what you said, or at least the gist of it.  I don't appreciate what you said.  If my people wanted to harm these folks, we wouldn't be going with diplomacy.

*He shrugs his shoulders, and scratches an itch on his nose.*

Mr. Alexeyevich, since I haven't introduced myself properly, I am Bob Wilkinson, one of the Triumvirs of Storm Front, which was a major party to the...incident the other day. I'm glad there'll be no more blood between us.  Honestly, we should probably be cooperating.  I consider the matter of the incident to be resolved, since that's what it sounds like you're getting at.  If you ever want to work together in the future, feel free to contact either Mr. Kirov Mironovich, our public relations head, or any of the Storm Front Triumvirate.

*He releases the PTT, sighing, and gingerly stands, his side still paining him.

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