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The Future War preparation
unspecified military base, East of Palatsinlinna
“Corporal Tarmo, can you hear me?” the feminine voice over the intercom entered the room, where a man in fatigues stood.
“Yes, Doctor Pajari.” Corporal Tarmo responded, looking to the window next to him.
“Good.” Pajari looked over her notes. “You’ve already been informed of the new Exoframe that AU-SPEC wishes to test, correct?”
“Of course.”
“Good, good.” Doctor Pajari began a program on her tablet, which scanned the room Tarmo was in. “In front of you is a box, which contains the AU-SPEC MK III experimental Exoframe.”
“That’s a lot of words but alright.”
“The Exoframe follows the same design as the previous MK II and MK I variants, which you should be familiar with. Beside that, is the standard issue Aatelisian military pack and vest. We want you to put on the outfit as quickly as possible, attempting to avoid mistakes along the way.”
“Understood.”
“The timer will begin as soon as you say ready. Are you ready?”
“Ready.”
“Begin.”
The test began, with Tarmo putting on the exoframe piece by piece, starting with the legs and slowly going up.
“How’s it going, Pajari?” another Doctor entered the room where Pajari sat behind the glass, looking in with her.
“Good, Vieno.” Pajari looked at the tablet tracking the information, taking glances up at Tarmo from time to time.
“I see testing has already begun.”
“Barely, sir.” Pajari replied.
“Well, still. Better to begin later than never. Especially with the government threatening to cut our funding daily.”
“You and I both know that the government won’t cut funding with the current atmosphere in the country. President Talaka will not attempt anything that could threaten his chances at reelection, and angering both the warhawks and personnel in the military… Well, that’s a lot of votes.”
“Indeed. Anyhow, what of the tests over the last week? I’ve heard some mixed opinions from our doctors and testers, both high and low.”
“Doctor Pajari, I’ve finished equipping the exosuit.”
“Ahem,” Pajari adjusted her glasses, turning on the intercom. “Very good, Tarmo. I’m sure you’ve already noticed the treadmill in front of you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been sort of dreading it.”
“Don’t worry about the rumors from your fellow squad members, just do what’s told and you’ll give us the information we need to help your men and all soldiers in the Aatelisian army in the future.”
“Ok…” Tarmo said, defeatedly.
“Beside the treadmill is a VR headset and a controller in the shape of the standard issue Aatelisian Rifle. You’re tasked with shooting targets as they appear with utmost accuracy. Each target goes down in one shot, and you must reload every 30 rounds. Alerts will appear telling you to begin running, walking, and stopping as targets come and go. You got that?”
“... I …” Tarmo scratched his brow. “I believe so, Doctor.”
“Good. Put on the headset and grab the gun, and say when ready.”
Tarmo took off his helmet, putting on the headset before then putting on his helmet, followed by picking up the gun. “Ready.”
“Then, begin.” Pajari activated the test from her tablet, with Tarmo beginning to shoot fake targets.”
“Well…?” Vieno looked over to Pajari with his arms crossed.
“From what most of the soldiers say, they feel like they’re ‘guinea pigs’ to our testing here, and to be quite frank, I agree with them.”
“How do they see themselves as being ‘guinea pigs!?’ they get paid for doing these tests!”
“Well sir, running, jumping and crawling in an exosuit with a VR headset on your face isn’t exactly comfortable to them.”
Vieno grimaced.“The Aatelisian government isn’t letting us field test our s!@# until we get the preliminaries done, and they wish for us to use the ‘utmost’ quality for this, when what we should be doing is giving it to soldiers on field exercises and telling them to roll with it! We should know how effective they are instantly if they start failing due to dirt or water or a mix of the two!”
“At least we can tweak on the fly with these prototypes, without having to wash them down.”
“Yeah, to scrap them down for parts or put them in a museum in twenty years with the finished model, I know.”
“You’re such a negative ass, Vieno. Just cause our project needs to go through fifty different tests, never means we’re done with our work. We’re scientists! We’re meant to tweak this crap till it either works or breaks. Now, go bug high command to bug the government into having our only working prototype break apart cause some greenhorn put fifty extra pounds on his rig!”
Vieno tried for a rebuttal, but couldn’t find it. “You’re lucky I’m not the one giving you orders, Pajari.”
“Yeah, right, of course. The exits right there. I shall continue my tests.”
“Right you will.” Vieno left, leaving Pajari to her work.
The Unions are on strike!
The intro to ABN played its familiar tune, before ending.
“Good evening, Aatelisia. I’m Torsti Tähtinen, and this is ABN. Today, reports have come in that workers have begun a strike against the Kotka Shipping company, citing that long hours, low pay, and bad work conditions are the cause for the strike. Already, political strife has begun due to the strike, with deliveries seemingly halted throughout the nation with this one move.”
The video plays a small intro of ABN’s breaking news segment, before footage of workers outside of a Kotka storage building. Hundreds of workers were outside the building in the snow.
Torsti voiced over the footage. “Protests began in the early hours of the morning, when a hundred workers of the building were fired after Kotka saw no reason to keep them employed. This sparked many nearby Kotka workers to go on strike, seeing their own possible jobs being at risk, if the company can so brazenly fire workers.”
The video cut to a worker, wearing his uniform with a knitted cap on. His face is blurred out. “The actions of Kotka are deplorable! A hundred employees in a single day? They only wish to pocket more money for their stockholders! Where’s my safety net!?”
“Many of the workers' faces were blurred for anonymity.” Torsti stated. “Already, Political tensions over the event have begun to ripple out across the country. Vapausjuhlat, under President Talaka, have already begun pointing fingers at VTJ, who’ve pointed figures at them. The VTJ stated that the Government should’ve been ready to deal with such a crisis, whilst Vapausjuhlat argued that the VTJ blocked them from dealing with the issue. More strikes began at different warehouses over the course of the day.
Backer of the VTJ and so called media star, Ale Joni, has his own words to say on the issue.”
Footage goes to Ale Joni, who’s in a black sweater and standing outside of his home. “Honestly, I can not BELIEVE that President Talaka hasn’t broken this Strike up himself! These people, these workers for Kotka, have single handedly halted 68% of the deliveries across the country, yes, let me say that again, 68%! The economy was already rocked in the 30s, and another rock on such a scale with this strike, why, we could see a recession for a decade! Yet these deadbeats from the so-called ‘Party of Liberty’ would rather see the economy fail than cry over the issue of a few terrible workers! BREAK THE STRIKE, AATELISIA!”
The footage cut back to Torsti. “So far, the VTJ has agreed with Ale Joni’s belief, that the strikers should be dealt with before the economy gets hit by it. Työväenpuolue, a Socialist party hailing from a much darker time in Aatelisia’s history, have stated that Kotka should be punished, the strikers pardoned, and the unions reinforced. The government has begun a debate about the issue in the Senate; should Kotka be forced to pay reparations for their workers, and enforce the power of the unions, or should the strike be busted, in the name of the economy? Senator Annukka Laine, a firm Työväenpuolue spokeswoman, has this to say.”
The footage once more cuts, this time to Annukka. “It is quite obvious that Kotka needs to be dealt with in some form. But the question now is really about how this should affect all these megacorporations that have begun to poison Aatelisia to the bone? Either the minimum wage must be raised, or more power must be given to the unions. The people of Aatelisia must be protected before these companies!”
The footage cuts again, back to Torsti. “Already, the VTJ has called out the words of Annukka as ‘expensive’ and ‘cutting into profits’, however, no real statement has come from Talaka and the Liberty Party. Talaka however, has stated that he will make a statement about the strikes tomorrow. With the country looking at a possible drop in the economy across the board, action must be swift no matter what the government decides on. I’ve been Torsti Tähtinen, and this was ABN.”
AU-SPEC results
unspecified military base, East of Palatsinlinna
Doctor Pajari climbed up the stairs hastedly, before turning right down the hallway. There at the side of it was an office with glass, with a few pictures of AU-SPEC exoframes hanging from the wall with lights under and above them. The name “Dr. Vieno” hanged over the office door, which Pajari knocked on.
Vieno yelled “Come in!”
Pajari came inside. The office had two desks, with a large computer setup on one side of the office, and another holding a bunch of different files. placed the manila folder on Vieno’s desk. “Here’s the results of the tests.”
Vieno was surprised by Pajari’s entry into his office at this hour, he turned off his phone and opened it. “You make sure to compile all the results?”
“Yes.” Pajari folded her arms. “So far, what we’ve found is that the AU-SPEC MK III has increased mobility compared to the MK II, yet the reflexes of the testers was down by a whole ten percent compared to the MK II’s.”
“Ten percent!?”
Pajari nodded and adjusted her glasses. “Yep. I told you this suit would need to be tweaked.”
Vieno grabbed his chin. “You don’t suppose the Army would mind ten percent difference in reflexes?”
“Sir.” Pajari said, annoyed.
“Yeah?”
“It’s ten percent. That’s the difference between getting a hit, and missing. The army won’t accept their soldiers being unable to hit a barn, especially with the MK I and II already lowering the accuracy of our troops in the field.”
“F%^&, damn it!” Vieno put his hand to his head. “This’ll delay the MK III being handed out for another six months at the least.”
“We’re looking at more than just that, Vieno.” Pajari leaned onto the table. “We’ll need to rework the whole rig if we’re to get the same bonus to maneuverability and get the accuracy back in line with the MK II.”
“I wish I made planes instead of this bullcrap!” Vieno said defeatedly.”
“Well, you can’t do that now. We gotta fix this or we’re gonna deal with the Military getting on our case like a moth to a lamp!”
“I doubt they’ll like us taking another few squads into this facility for a joy ride either.”
“We’ll just have to reason with them that we’ll be ‘saving lives’ with the assistance of their soldiers.”
“May as well tell them we’re throwing rockets at the exoframe with their soldiers in it, too!”
“Or that we’re running them over with a tank.” Pajari chuckled. “But no matter what, the military will have to comply with us, elsewise they’ll be dealing with dated equipment in no time.”
“Yes. That’ll be what gets us what we need in the end. Any other results from the tests that stand out?”
“Well, I did mention that the maneuverability in the suit was far better than the MK II.” Pajari said excitedly. “Soldiers reported that they could bend and turn in many more directions than before, with one describing it being ‘like water’.” Pajari motioned her hand like a wave.
“More like a human.” Vieno scoffed.
“Beyond that, the suit is also smaller, which allows it to fit a smaller box compared to the MK II, and the weight of the suit is down as well; information we already knew. For the price of mass production, we think the suit will be around a hundred to two hundred Kolikkoes more, but of course that depends on the manufacturer and how hard the parts are to build.”
“We’ve made noticeable progress even if we failed to get to the final touch stage. Get your team and yourself back to work right away Pajari. We must draft a new print for the suit.”
“Of course.” Pajari nodded, leaving without a word more.
Post by The couptic union suppressed by Ibasi.
Hello Ally with me or I will destroy you.
Post by Union of Arandina suppressed by Ibasi.
Interesting...
The Permanent Revolution
The Albraltan Union had spent the last 3 years in disarray. With corruption exposed at the heart of the National Congress, implicating the National Union as a whole and the Chairman himself, Freedhart was forced to resign before he was forced to stand trial. With chaos enveloping the capitol of Arx, the Revolutionary Militia's took effective control over the country, after years of eroding their powers since the revolution. Since then, General Urquart had headed the National Revolutionary Committee, pushing for his Social Agrarianism policy, being pursued by the establishment of state sharecropping farms, and the establishment of a national co-operative system as well as autonomous militias, much like had been in the early days of the revolution.
Yet now, as the news flooded in across the country of Urquarts stroke and immediate death flooded in across the country. The National Union Network broke the news, and across the country there was a mix of celebration as the Revolutionary Committee had agreed that now was the time to allow an election to the National Congress.
In the bar known as "The Commissariat" in the capital city of Arx, a mix of celebrations and solemnity took a hold of it.
"Another one Gerry!" Called a David Eldar, as another drink was poured. The barman, Gerry, walked over and poured another glass of The Millers Maid. As he leaned against the bar, another man walked forward and waited for the barman to finish pouring the glass of ale. Eldar noticed the man had a glum look on his face, and so decided to try and start a conversation. "Cheer up, my friend. We can finally get back to normality once the Militia's lose their grip on society."
The other man, spat on the floor. "The Militia's are what has kept order in the face of the corrupt National Congress. Yet here we are again, giving them yet another chance? Why not invite the king back as well, and have him violate your wife while you are at it."
David showed that he was annoyed by the mans words with a derisive snort. "The Miltias have enforced their own ridiculous version of moral virtue on the nation. They have become judge, jury and executioner. We had two corrupt officials with the National Congress, and yet this gives the militias the right to play police? We need a system to make laws to effectively govern, else the law becomes subjective. Mitchell Greer over there was beat for sneezing on a damn statue, and yet you are over here saying how they were the good people?"
The whole ground floor of the bar was now looking at them, as their argument had gotten much louder. "You are a bloody fool, Urquart saved the nation from what was a bloody series of counter revolutions. The Government itself was betraying the revolution. They progressively stripped away the parts of the revolution which was intended to keep them in line! My Great Grandfather fought in the War of Resistance for 8 years, and if he saw how easily we have caved to the Government's ever enhancing power, he would be spinning in his grave. Page one of the Revolutionary Handbook says, and I quote 'Learn from Arthur Mays good example, Never forget your origins, and stand strong with good spirit. Never be afraid to make a revolution!"
"This was not a revolution! This was a Coup d'état!" David shouted. "We need a centralised government again so we can have a professional army. The Miltias cannot protect us against the likes of Spiritualiza! We need to get back to the factories, making planes, guns and tanks so we can prepare ourselves. We are a target! Kennedy will be the one will lead us into a new secure world.
"Kennedy, of the vanguards?! He is a bloody old fool, preaching about policies nobody cares about anymore. This is an Abraltan Union, not some peasant backwater led by some talking rats in a field. I'll be dammed if the militias take a Vnaguardist government lying down."
"Oh yea?" David challenged him, shoving the man as everyone stood by and watched. The man David shoved was seething anger. "And what are you going to do about it."
The man simply looked at him. This simply angered David now, who proceeded to shove the man again. "Do something!" He ordered.
The man reached at his belt, brandished a revolver and it immediately fired, hitting David square in the chest. At this close of a range it was impossible to miss. The force of the shot, caused David to fly back and crash into table. The glasses smashed all over the floor as blood continued to flow out of his body. The man who shot him, simply grabbed his coat, and walked out of the bar.
Spiritualiza, The United Roman Reich, and Union of Arandina
Post by The couptic union suppressed by 
The United Roman Reich.
Surrender Now!!!
Post by Union of Arandina suppressed by Ibasi.
Arandians, arise!
The Union of Arandina has been founded, after several years of war, the Liberation front overthrew the monrchical regime of foregin dynasty of the Luitas.
After two years of provisional government, the country's first elections were called.
The Popular Socialist Party begind the most voted, with 63% of the votes, Antonjav Marq being the first president of the country.
Now the country must face the disaster left by the war and and prosper in this beautiful region.
Arandians, united!
Arandians, arise!
Post by The couptic union suppressed by The United Roman Reich.
I am building my armies as we speak if no one allies with me I will need to destroy whoever is in my path of victory!
Pilot’s Ridge: Part One
In south central Tabariye, firmly within the reaches of North Altera, the city of Mahmuzuyuk was an interesting one. Partially a tourist city, the metropolitan area itself did not offer anything more than a place for commercial businesses eager to take advantage of thoroughfare. Rather the countryside surrounding the city, which belonged to Mahmuzuyuk’s sanjak, was rated one of the most beautiful parks in the nation. The rising peaks of distant mountains and hills cascading into rolling valleys and forested dells was perfect for a night out, or for extending hiking. Hiking was one of the most common reasons outsiders listed coming to Mahmuzuyuk, and the city was sure to serve their needs with all sorts of stores and hotels and tourist plans meant to maximize profits and decrease human enjoyment at any cost.
Though parts of the regional sanjak was off-limits to the public, since it belonged to the government directly and was used for their own purposes, the great expanse was something easy to get lost in.
Trudging along one of the hiking trails ascending high over the forest canopy, Neshe Değirmenci and her friends, Isa and Lutfiye, headed out from the city’s outskirts and deeper into the wildlands. Neshe was the daughter of Samed Değirmenci, a member of parliament for the National Justice Party. Being an MP’s daughter was exhausting in its own right, and reeling from too much time in her father’s overbearing spotlight, she chose to take a private retreat down south to Mahmuzuyuk with her companions.
“Woah! Look at this view!” Isa yelled, holding a hand up over her brow to shield off the sun as she looked down into the valley, the city almost comical and insignificant, like an ant farm, at such a height as they were.
Lutfiye echoed her sentiments and Neshe, who was at the front of the three, stopped and turned to look back at them.
“I swear we’re never going to make it to the halfway point if we keep stopping to look at the view every ten minutes!”
The two looked at her, Lutfiye shaking her head. “You gotta’ learn to take your time, Neshe!” She said with an exhausted grin, “We’ve got all day to finish the trail.”
“I know.” She conceded, pausing for a moment to adjust the strap on her pith helmet. Dressed for casual hiking, Neshe wore a long-sleeved shirt to keep the sun off of her skin, and her sun helmet was wide-brimmed and shadowed her head.
Taking off again, the three women began their trek up the narrow path. There were no safety lines or anything of the story, Neshe could not help but notice. Glancing off to the side she saw the steepness of the ridge; making an educated guess, she figured a person might fall maybe twenty or thirty some feet before striking against the base of the ridge. A fall like that on rough ground could easily be fatal, and that was if the person had good luck and didn’t keep rolling further down the hillside.
Neshe straightened her gait and felt her hiking shoes dig into the gravel as she forced the thoughts out of her head. Instead, she looked ahead and saw the bright blue horizon that the trail cut a small path through. Only a few trees stood on the ridge at this area, but she remembered from the map that eventually the trail opened up and stretched out; there, she knew, they would pass through a small forest, which would be better for travel but worse for decent pictures.
Stopping at a small incline on the path which expanded out slightly to where a few rocks rested embedded into the pike, Neshe turned to look at her friends.
“I don’t think we’re going to get any better pictures than here.”
“It’s such a nice view,” Lutfiye murmured, reaching into her pack and pulling out her phone to take a picture of the valley. Isa came up beside her holding a small camera from her own belongings, and focused on the city; in the distance, just barely on the horizon, was the blue waters of the sea.
Neshe waited for a moment then pulled out her own phone. “Let’s get a picture together.”
“Oh… selfie time!” Isa exclaimed.
“I mean it’s not really a selfie if it's more than one person.” Lutfiye said.
The three women lined up on the middle of the cliff face and Neshe paused to get a good angle. Finally satisfied she snapped the picture and turned it around, showing her friends. As she did there was a distant, terrible rumble above them, and looking up towards the sky she noticed a small gathering of seven jets flying overhead in formation; their shadows falling upon the land as they passed over.
“Woah, I wonder what they’re doing?” Neshe pondered aloud.
“Isn’t there an air force base around here somewhere?” Isa answered. “At least I thought I remembered reading that.”
Lutfiye nodded. “My uncle’s in the air force, so he’d probably know.”
The group thought on the sight for a moment longer until the jets faded off into the distance. Neshe pocketed her phone and looked at the others, holding her hands out.
“Well… we gotta keep up. We came for a hike, not to see the air force museum.”
“Maybe see that next time.” Isa mumbled as the three continued on their way.
Pilot’s Ridge: Part Two
“Auditor Two-Niner-Eight, Critter 1, we are leaving your aerospace, how copy?”
“Affirm, Critter 1. Good hunting on your exercise. Out.”
Isa Koch exhaled as the radio clicked off. Spending a moment to check his surroundings, he looked out of the rear half of the canopy and caught sight of part of his squadron flying behind him. The seven Tabar pilots were flying the Bartek Type-27, the mainstay of Tabariye’s air force and the primary multirole air supremacy fighter in service with them.
The Tabarian military was slowly beginning to age, and no more did it show with the older models still in service in Tabariye. Looking around his cockpit, it was easy for Isa to see the extensions and upgrades that his craft had seen over the years. The main instrument panel was entirely retrofitted and did not even firmly sit in the grooves anymore; rather, now it was bolted to the front of him by a metal frame, and looked all together unseemly in the cockpit.
At least, he thought, the routine training operation they were on was shaping up to be a normal one. That is, something almost worth sleeping through and he imagined the rest of the squadron agreed with his assessment.
“Sultan, this is Critter 1, we have entered the AO.” Isa said finally, the Lieutenant Colonel figuring it was better to get the call over with. “We are awaiting instruction, over.”
“Good copy, Critter 1,” the radio barked back. “Skies are clear today and business is good. Wait out for further instruction.”
As the sky crew’s radio clicked off, Isa heard the familiar hum from his squadron’s channel.
“So, Kitten, they’re taking this training op real seriously.”
“They usually do,” Isa responded.
Looking down the ranks of jets, the colonel imagined he could see Shukri Mataraci in his canopy drawing a fig at his superior officer’s comment.
“You know what I mean,” he cooly responded. “These training exercises are usually a lot more lame-brained.”
“Regardless of whatever’s happening, we’re going to take it seriously, Duck. Got that?”
“Ibasi.” A woman’s voice broke through the chatter. It was Firuze Marangoz, but everyone called her Birdie instead.
“No way!” Duck said with a rise, his voice cracking. “Ibasi? It’s a dump!”
Another radio clicked to life. “Bro... Iman Usalu just died. Ibasi could be in a civil war next week for all we know; the suits are probably plannin’ for it.”
“Doughboy’s got a point.” Birdie added.
“Maybe he does.” The colonel said after a moment of silence, sighing as he looked out at the horizon. “Regardless, I want all of you to be focused on this op, training or not. So get your heads out of the clouds! And Duck… when we get back at base I want to talk to you about your crazy conspiracies.”
“Roger, Critter 1.” Duck responded.
The radio chatter quieted down as the squadron continued their pattern over the countryside. The city of Mahmuzuyuk was just barely on the horizon, and looked like nothing to Isa. Being so high in the sky had a way of mellowing a man out and making them realize just how minor everything was. The colonel didn’t care much for the conspiracies and higher thinking that some of his subordinates espoused: he did as he was asked, and Isa found it was easier to chew through life if you did not get stuck on the gristle.
“Critter 1, Sultan, how copy?” The radio suddenly crackled to life, bringing Isa out of his thoughts.
“Lima Charlie. Send your traffic.”
“Long message: your orders are to secure the aerospace over Mahmuzuyuk and gain air superiority for our ground elements. Positive ID all bogeys, I say again, positive ID all potential hostile aircraft before eliminating them from the target AO.”
Spiritualiza, The United Roman Reich, Tabariye, and Aravelo
THE IRRATIONAL RATIONALITY
The Sultanate of Shamila Kabir State had reigned under many different eras and branded themselves under many different names - but from each dynasty to the next, there were always damning consistencies. Technological backwardness, tyranny, constant and crippling warfare, civil and foreign - it seemed that every decade the region went forward, it was determined to move a decade back. However, through every pitfall, the sultanate remained in a state of half-sustainable stagnation.
However, stagnation serves poorly in a world that advances exponentially. Under the late Sultan Hadim Asghar, Shamila Kabir began to move backwards, outpaced by ambitious neighbours and ravaged by the famines of ill-developed agriculture. Demonstrations became more violent, political assassinations more frequent, independent and organised terrorism more devastating. There was a desperate need to restructure.
At first, the Sultanate turned to the outside world, but an economy reliant on near-depleted oil reservoirs disinterested foreign powers and help only came through a handful of under-equipped charities. Left with no other option, Hadim Asghar begrudgingly agreed on an approach of rapid scientific development: something that, until then, was seen as the greatest threat to the monarchy's power monopoly. But with crowds brandishing rudimentary weapons on the streets of the capital, Asghar was forced to invest what little there was of the national treasury into a long-neglected and beat down branch of the administration - the Shamila Kabir Technological Society (SKTS), where the greatest minds gathered to be ignored by apathetic superiors. An upheaval of agriculture and industry was vital for the nation to sustain itself, and it was to be spearheaded by the Supreme Scholar of the SKTS, Ibrahim Al-Moghadam. The Society, overjoyed to finally be given the opportunity to modernise, jumped on the occasion and utilised this newfound funding to barrel through decades of stagnant progress.
Revolutionary work into hydroponics and advanced solar energy solutions proved incredibly valuable in the underdevelopment of the region, and the first large-scale hydroponic farm was quickly established near the starving city of Bardavaz. To have the ambitious farm functional and distributing within the space of 2 years was quite the feat, but progress was still not nearly fast enough to outpace the impending doom of the nation. Nobody knew this more than Al-Moghadam, who’s academic life under the Sultanate had fostered a well-hidden politically charged agenda. The official, who had long secretly collaborated with foreign powers, anti-government conspirators and small, isolated insurgent militias began the careful, clandestine building of a military. The Technological Liberation Army was to make itself known to the Sultanate on the 3rd anniversary of the opening of the Bardavaz Hydroponic Facility, a day that began with the leading members of the Technological Society standing ready in Al-Moghadam’s office, moments before the bloodiest civil war known in the region in both recent and distant memory.
The Supreme Scholar sat idly at his relatively understated desk, hastily cleared to accommodate a complex recording setup. A silence lay thick in the room, and the SKTS leadership stood visibly uncomfortably as they waited for the present orator to begin. Everything had been hooked up correctly, and sympathisers within Sultanate radio stations across the country were ready to transmit anything that left this room. There was not much of a window to do this. The occasion for sitting idly was anytime but now.
Finally, after a long and painful quiet, the besuited official leaned forward, and began his slow and deliberate address:
“To the People of Shamila Kabir, subjects of the Sultan, victims of a miserable and corrupt system, I invite you to celebrate - for the future has finally decided to arrive. We, the Shamila Kabir Technological Society, hereby declare that this eternal cycle of terror shall remain where it originated – the irrelevant past – and be replaced by a greater, bolder, glorious world. As I speak, the Technological Liberation Army, born from the righteous dissent of the long-suppressed masses, is eliminating all Sultanate military and government presence from noble Bardavaz and liberating the neglected populace that reside there. The same is happening in Dumasumah, Al-Mitaq – soon, even the streets outside Asghar’s palace in Markaz Alhadid shall be swarming with the forces of enlightenment. For the Sultan has long proven himself unworthy of serving his people, and so his people have decided that they no longer need his service – they need the service of a state run by competence, driven by progress, one not afraid to jump at opportunity – we call such a service Almajidistan, and its flag shall soon fly victorious over the corpse of ancient civilisation! Answer no despot! Reject no science! To the future people of the Almajidi Populism, pilgrims of a new and enlightened world, I beseech you: Fear No Limits!”
The Supreme Scholar leant back, a vague expression replacing the intense fervency during the speech, only a few shades away from boredom. That suffocating silence returned, punctured peevishly by the Head of Advanced Renewables, Dr. Hakimi, as Al-Moghadam stared distantly at the deactivated microphone in front of him.
“Ah, Doctor?” she began. “We should be moving. General Ghazzawi estimated the Markaz Alhadid garrison to be mobilised and at the society in 10-20 minutes. Our escape convoy is waiting in the car park.”
Getting up with considerable effort, the Supreme Scholar took a second to reply. “Lead on, Hakimi. We have much to do.”
FARHAT PALACE, MARKAZ ALHADID, SEVEN YEARS LATER
Al-Moghadam stood proudly atop the Sultan’s balcony, flanked by his subordinates, arms raised to a cheering crowd of TLA soldiers and battered civilians. “What a day this has been!” he cried into a microphone, speakers casting his voice for miles through the largely desolate rubble that was once the proud capital of the nation. “A day that should have come a century ago! A day where, finally, the people on this land can claim their freedom!”
From the beaming line of ex-SKTS leaders that now formed the Almajidistan administration, the disgraced Hadim Ashgar was hauled out into the light by two TLA officers, who dumped the bound monarch over the balcony railing and retreated back into the palace. On cue, Al-Moghadam raised his personal sidearm high into the air, making sure that the afternoon sun gleamed in the polish of the barrel. “Today,” he continued, “we do what those before us were too scared, or too beaten to do. We achieve the dream of every Shamila Kabir citizen for the last fifty years, and the mythical fantasy of every Almajidi citizen for the next five hundred years – we kill the Sultan!”
The cheers got louder, and the new administration clapped alongside them as Al-Moghadam turned to face the bruised monarch. Untouched by a pleading stare, the Supreme Scholar lowered his firearm from the air and pointed it down, toward the grovelling symbol of a long and hated lineage. “Fear No Limits!” he cried, just before pulling the trigger and casting the body from the balcony, the crowd watching in delight as it descended five stories onto the cracked concrete below. And as the cheering grew, and the smoke dissipated from the exit of his handgun, Al-Moghadam turned to face his new oligarchy, and grinned.
Spiritualiza, The United Roman Reich, and Ciezka
Albraltar, Aravelo, and Union of Arandina
Post by Meowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww suppressed by The United Roman Reich.
Hello MEOW
Shadows are watching
Approximately 35 Km from Tiones, a group of farmers gather around a table and each have a pint in their hand. They played cards and gambled the few pocket change they had left over from the week. Not much, and it is why their wives disapprove of it, but regardless it is what they did every Friday night.
The time is 12:36 AM, and after a night of winning and losing, half of the farmers left with nothing, two of the farmers left with a profit, and one farmer left with the gold. They went their separate ways back to their farms. Landon Trio, the owner of the farm house, went back inside.
The moment he entered, he was met with a deafening tone. Nothing loud, just a high stable ringing sound. He believed it to be that thing when your ears ring, although much more painful. He walked upstairs to his bedroom, where his wife was. The ringing had ceased. He sat down beside her and started talking to her. She was unresponsive. She was just harshly tapping her phone with her red nails. Figuring she was just upset she has to put up with the boys coming over every Saturday, he rolled over. Didn't think much of it and went to sleep.
In what feels like a blink of an eye, he awoke from his slumber. He looked at his mahogany clock; 3:45 Am. A bit to early for him to wake up, but he might as well start on the morning breakfast. He went downstairs, but then he stopped, on the third to last step. The ringing, there it was. He stepped back up, it disappeared. Confused out of his mind, he ignored it, and powered through.
As he entered the kitchen, he again looked at the clock; 6:50. He did a double-take. Broken clock he thought. He took the clock off the wall and threw it on the dining table. He turned his head, and there it was. The clock. Perfectly hung on the wall. He turned to the table, and it was no longer there. He stood there feeling as if he was out of his mind. He turned back to the clock; 8:35. Then he heard the kids run down the steps. He turned to them to greet them, and just like his wife the previous night, they ignored him.
He called out their names, "Jessie, Becca!" Again no response. He approached them, the sound getting louder and much more abrasive. He retreated at the sound, falling to the ground. As he landed on the ground, his kids turned and looked at him. Looked at each other and shrugged. They were making toast and eggs. Their favourite. Then his wife came down. She called to the Jessie and Becca and they ran to her. She told them to take a seat. Landon couldn't hear what she was saying, but he saw her balling. Then he looked to his kid's faces. They dropped, Jessie started crying but tried his hardest to hold it in. Becca just sat there with her jaw open.
Landon reached out to hug his wife, and whispered, "Is everything alright love?" No response except the sound of the ringing increasing again. She moved her lips, and they both nodded. Then she grabbed their hands and took them upstairs. Landon followed intrigued. When he entered the bedroom, he dropped to his knees. It was him, lying there, arms spread, blank expression with a slight frown. He peered to the left of the room, and there sat his mother. He ran over to her. She embraced him in open arms. Kissed him on the forehead, and firmly stated, "It's alright Landon, you're safe now. No need to worry anymore." She got up grabbed him by the arm and led him into a dark void. As he was about to be pulled in, he looked over at his corpse, and noticed a faded red mark in the shape of fingers and there it was, a partially broken red nail penetrated into the neck. And then everything went dark.
The United Roman Reich, Ciezka, and Gwadar
The Communist Plot:
Zynscow, Nationalist Union
Supreme Chancellor Yosef Maklin was standing tall with his hands behind his back, overlooking the capital city of Zynscow from his balcony, which was the crown jewel of the Nationalist Union. The great leader of Spiritualiza had been staring at the night moon with his silk made pajamas on. He often times had contemplated about how possible his life’s work been in vain. He then proceeded to walk into his main office and sat down at his desk.
The main office of the Palace although thoroughly furnished and ornamented was barely visible due to the room being almost completely unlighted. The only source of light was from an old relic lamp.
4:30 in the morning, Maklin wasn't in a particularly unpleasant mood neither was he in a good mood. He didn't welcome any kind of disturbances unless it had something do with Spiritualiza’s security and welfare of the Lyzan people. Yosef, like the rest of the nation, were well aware of the communist plot of world domination, after all he blamed the uprisings , regional destabilizations, and civil unrest of nations around the world on the square shoulders of communism.
As the Supreme Chancellor began to prepare for work throughtout the rest of the night, suddenly a senior officer of the Special Communications Service and Vice Chairman of the National Security Service rushed into his office with various papers. The two men in their common black suits sat down in the opposite direction facing the Chancellor.
“what circumstances must be so important that you two barge into my chambers without notifying me and interrupting my duties. I have great respect for both of you so there won’t be any consequences for your disruptions. I want to hear from you first senior officer Hudroli of the SCS."The Chancellor said in a calm tone.
“Sir, as you may already know, speaking on behalf of the Special Communications Service, we are responsible for the collection and analysis of foreign communications and foreign signals intelligence. After months of collecting and analyzing communications, we have discovered a communist plot to murder millions of Lyzans.”
”How is that even possible comrade? Where is their base of operations?”
"The communists may be taking advantage of our recent plans to expand westward of the continent of Estoria, leaving millions of civilians exposed to a deadly gas attack. Apparently they’re located in the northwestern region, just above Lyzan borders in uncharted territory.”
I now have to put out an order to notify the population to avoid expanding northwest. What happens to a person if they were to breath in this gas comrade Hudroli?”
“Once inhaled, the victim suffers violent coughing, nausea, vomiting, suffocation, bleeding from the eyes, and scaling, burning skin, with death occurring before the body can even hit the ground according to our intelligence reports.”
”So this is what it has come to...chemical warfare....now you see comrades why I have a great dislike for the communists, they will never let us be at peace. Thank You Hudroli you may be dismissed. Now Mr. Vice Chairman tell me what you have on the communists in the region.”
"Thanks to our cooperation with Lyzan civilians who were in the region , we came across a military base of some sorts located in the boreal region of the continent. The large base is reportedly crawling with communists, the weather is especially cold, snowy and cruel. I advise not to conduct an Aerial strike as that would only foil their plans temporarily. There is a top scientist who works at the base and he may be behind this entire chemical attack scenario. Killing or capturing him would be a glorious victory for our nation and boost morale to Lyzan forces. So therefore we must act speedily before this man escapes our wrath.”
"Hmm this would be the ideal time for us to show the world our military capabilities outside our borders.”
"Indeed sir. National Security Servicemen even managed successfully to take several photographs of the base during an espionage mission.”
Yosef looked that the photos carefully. The photos contained various buildings, fortifications, barracks and roads leading into and out of the base. He then says:
”Alright...I think we are done here comrade leave these photos on my desk and I'll make another observation at them later. I'll dispatch a Lyzan army to take not only the base but the region as well to prevent future plots from ever happening again in the area.”
The Assault:
Northwest, Estoria
Part I:
A great Lyzan war hero by the name of Sgt. Kazorn Zhukov participated along with his army 21 years ago to the final victory against the commies in Spiritualiza was selected to assault the base and capture the scientist who went by the name Yuri Beiner. Kazorn appeared to be only 25 years old but reality was 39 years old because he remained fit by eating well , exercising consistently, and taking other measures to take care of his body like all Lyzan soldiers. Being chosen for the mission due to pledging his undying loyalty to the Spiritland.
The night before the assault began , he gathered his men around the campfire up in the mountains. Kazorn and his troops were equipped with the winterize Muchenik Lyzan infantry combat system. Designed to improve the connectivity and combat effectiveness of combat personnel in the Lyzan Armed Forces. It is composed of modernized body armor, a helmet with a special eye monitor (thermal, night vision monocular, flashlight), communication systems, and special headphones.
Kazorn while firmly gripping his skorpion assault Rifle began rabbling to his men about his experiences in the Lyzan Ground Forces.
”21 years ago, when I was merely 18 years old my men and I had fought through the most bitter of winters in the Spiritland against our adversaries. We were no strangers to the cold. But even now, the blood in my veins chills when I think back to those events of that day...for tonight we are far, far from home...”
One of his men replied, “You participated in the last stages of the civil war? Do you have any surviving relatives? Also did any of your men you served with at the time survive?”
”Comrade....listen to me. I am the last survivor of my family as the communists massacred my loved ones once they knew that the war was lost , but not only me but millions of Lyzans had lost their families.”
He continued as his men listened closely with admiration and great interest to his stories. ”My father was a magnificent singer in Zynscow. The communists had the capital city under their occupation, the sound of his angelic voice filled the air with tremendous music - Samov , Trautski - many of the great nationalist singers. To my fellow comrades, it was a symbol of aspiration. To the Communists, it was a symbol of opposition. Even now to this very day, his voice still haunts me. The communists slit his throat while he slept. Collaborating with any communist is extremely treacherous, a betrayal against all of the Spiritland.”
“That’s horrible...the thing I don’t comprehend comrade Sgt. Kazorn and is why our own Slavic brothers want to destroy us instead of joining our ranks.” Another one of his men said.
”They look only to advance towards their own interests and agendas....instead of their own country. Look at the current issue now , instead of surrendering or leaving us alone...who want peace they prefer to kill millions more...they are willing to do anything at an attempt to grab power.”
“So they will fight to the bitter end....Kazorn you still haven’t told us if any of your men from the time survived the war...why not?”
Kazorn sighed and took a deep breath...then says, ”Because the scientist we are after is one of those men. Whenever I think about the war veterans I fought side by side with he immediately comes to mind ever since I discovered he was the target.”
Kazorn stood up and began pacing back and forth until one of his soldiers asked him, “so what’s the plan?”
The plan is to assault the base , neutralize the chemical weapons , take anything of value and capture Yuri at all costs comrades. If we fail, we have the rest of the Lyzan Ground Forces reinforcing us to take the base and region.”He continued. ”Now my comrades let’s get some rest as we attack in the morning.”
The Assault:
Northwest, Estoria
Part II:
Light snow began to fall on the day of the assault. For 3 days The Lyzans had secretly been encircling the region and the base with a few thousand soldiers , hundreds of 122 mm PA-260s(artillery guns) and twenty five RA-80s(Rocket artillery vehicles), all of which were placed into battle formations. The encirclement was to prevent enemy forces from escaping and preventing possible enemy reinforcements.
Their purpose was to wreak upon enemy forces and make things easier for Lyzan troops to make it towards the base with little resistance in addition to engage military personnel, equipment, and buildings, including fortified constructions. Some may deem this operation overkill but when it comes to protecting the Lyzan people there was no such thing as “overkill”.
The cold and snowy morning was eerily quiet, so quiet one can hear a pin drop. But soon all will feel just a smidge of wrath of the Lyzan Nationalist Union military power.
An officer, who was laying down on the ground, prone on his belly was overlooking the soon to be battlefield with his binoculars. He looked back at the formations and over the radio , gave the signal and said "FIRE!"
The sound of screeching rockets and artillery shells being launched upon the enemy caused the soldiers to cover their ears with specialized ear plugs. As one crew fired their artillery guns, another seemed to fire afterwards , same could be said about the rocket artillery.
The massive booms from the barrels were so loud that there were some reports of Lyzan civilians reporting loud noises from the region. Artillery shells and rocketry penetrated the ground, spewing dirt, debris and dust everywhere. Lizan troops could hear the sounds of chaos, confusion and panic among communist forces, which satisfied them and encouraged them to continue the massive artillery assault. The ground continued to quake and shake as if the planet had been split open.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=oGV1Duq5wLk
(Irony but something like this)
An hour after the bombardment had ceased, Sgt. Kazorn took a look into his binoculars and saw a massive cloud of black smoke and little fires spread out throughout the base. He gathered his men and told them, ”Alright men, there hasn’t been any reports of targets of leaving what’s remaining of the base so let’s go in and accomplish what we said we were going to do.””URAH !!” His men shouted.
Kazorn and his troops began entering snow trucks being used for troop transport. The truck started driving towards their objective. Nearing closer to the base , Kazorn advised all of his men to put on their gas masks to ensure their safety. One his soldiers asked him, “What was Yuri like?”
”Yuri was one of the most fearless men I had ever come to encounter. He fought by my side from the beginning of the war to the capture of Zynscow. His wounds he sustained ensuring our victory should have earned him a hero's welcome in Spiritualiza. But something happened , he had changed and wanted little to do with the Nationalist Union.”
“Welp, we are here. It is good to fight by your side.”
”Yes, my friend. One final victory. Search every corner of what’s ever left of this base...only Yuri is to be spared. URA!”
Upon arrival, the base was littered with piles of dead flesh and corpses. The smell of death filled the air. Most of the buildings and fortifications were turned to rubble and dust.
The squad and the rest of the Lyzan army fought through the communist base for Yuri. Fierce/intense room-to-room fighting ensued between the two opposing factions. At that point there was still a large contingent of communist insurgents in the base who somehow survived the artillery barrage, who launched counter-attacks against the Lyzan Forces. Soon, knowing they are completely out matched, fatigued and low on morale the remainder communist forces started to surrender.
One Lyzan soldier shouted while shooting his skorpion assault rifle,”They are trying to surrender!!!”
Karzon knowing what happened the last time the Lyzans spared communist foes replied. ”They have “tried”before. Do not let them. Shoot them.”
Finally while fighting there way through the last building , they found Yuri.
Sgt. Kazorn shouted, YURI !!
Yuri looks up, startled, as Kazorn trains his weapon on him, but quickly recovers his composure.
Yuri in a traumatic tone shouts, “Do not point that weapon at me, Nationalist PIG!” Kazorn lowered his weapon while Yuri took a puff from his cigarette and then grabs his pistol on his lap, smiling smugly at Sgt. Kazorn , aims it underneath his own chin and pulls the trigger.
Sgt. Kazorn shouted, ”NOOOOOOOO!!”
Yuri had committed suicide right before his own former friend’s face. His brains were splattered all over the wall as his body remained lifeless on the floor.
Despite failing to capture Yuri millions of Lyzan civilians were saved.
The National Air Union
The emergency meeting had been called in the small hours of the morning. Several pilots of the 3rd Bomber Wing had assembled into the small hut as the plan was being laid out.
"Robert Holdfast, Militia General and General Urquart's successor has taken refuge with several commanders." Air Bomber Commander Ethan Ipswan explained, pointing to a forested area. "As you know, David Holdfast let it slip when he was arrested after shooting a civilian dead in a bar in Arx that they would be meeting to stage a revolution against the restoration of the National Union. The Revolutionary Committee has hereby ordered that we are to strike this location."
A cheer went up from the Airmen. A long standing rivalry had taken hold of the militias and all faucets of the standing Abraltan Army. The Militias wielded unprecedented political influence, at the expense of the National Military Unions.
"So what are we hitting them with sir? MOAB? Clusters?" Airwoman Jackie Foster piped up.
"Your jets are being outfitted for close range Napalm Strikes." Ipswan told them. "While this is happening, The National Army Union has positioned snipers at key positions. As this is a heavily wooded area, we believe that the casualties from the initial strikes should do the jobs, but General Milton does not want to leave anything to chance. Once the head of the snake is cut off, we believe the body shall become useless. Coverage will be given on the National Network saying this was a freak forest fire, but you are to hit hard and fast. You are to be like ghosts, in and out before anyone realises you are there. We do not want footage leaking out online. Thankfully the Militias did not want to be spotted, and have chosen a rather secluded location. Our jets were out on aerial reconnaissance and to dump water if anyone ask."
"I know, not all of you hate the militias," Ipswan told them, knowing the attitude of his men. "but they have become incredibly corrupt. They now threaten the Revolution with counter revolution. We must not allow all we have struggled for so long for to be lost in the flames of Civil War! They threaten to tear our union apart for their own insatiable lust for power. We stand at the precipice and they would try to throw us to the abyss. It is time to tell them we shall not go quietly into that long dark night. Today, we save the Union!"
A cheer went up from the airmen. "Get to your jets and begin configuration. I want us in the air in 30."
National Union Network
"And that's the weather. Bring an Umbrella folks." Robert Applebee smiled, as the camera cut back to Diane Tucker and James Moran.
"Thanks for that Robert. In other news, the fires continue to rage across the Topal Forest today in day 3 of the blaze. Dozens are believed to be dead in what seems to be a freak accident." Diane said, as footage of the blaze played on the screens.
"That's right Diane." James said, taking the helm. "The fire has burned for 3 days and has consumed large swathes of the Blue Forest, named for its iconic lakes. With the fires continuing to spread, members of the National Firefighters Union have mobilised from across the country sparing what they can. As Emergency responders have continue to arrive, the death toll continues to rise. Dozens are believed to be dead in what can only be called a terrible tragedy. Appeals have begun across the country to provide relief to the local wildlife which has been affected."
"If you or anyone you know has been affected by the fire, send us your emails and stories." Diane told the viewers. "More on this story, coming up later in the News at 10."
The United Roman Reich, Ciezka, Desula, and Union of Arandina
"Wrong Order"
Some of the the smaller towns on the outskirts of the island known as Nasir often had resentment towards the military garrison in the hills, which was mainly a logistical airbase to carry out patrols over sea. It was partially due to botched integration of the island into the republic, which had been previously independent, but there was other factors. The island was a moderately sized island nearly hundreds miles from the capital with a population of around sixteen-thousand, and boasted some of the most serene views within Kirsche's borders. Those serene views were quickly finding themselves between a rock and a hard place, between mining operations for oil some ten or twenty miles from the coast and efforts to expand agriculture. Corporal Leman Kleiner could hardly blame the townspeople for their frustration, but that didn't cull the man's annoyance over having to deliver goods to them every other week. To mitigate some of the tensions, the top brass decided it was a good idea to boost relations by supplying aid and it just so happened that there was logistical airbase in the hills. So, every other week, it was up to two poor bastards to drive around the island dropping off whatever the hell was packed into those boxes. Kleiner did see the townspeople's viewpoints, but he still considered them parasites like every other person on base. But the event bigger parasite was sitting right next to him: Private Joseph Hagel. There was nothing between them, really. No fights, no mess hall pranks, nothing of that sort. Kleiner just hated him, partly because of that... god awful smile of his.
The private had his legs up on the dashboard of the truck; seventeen years old with a constant smug smile spread across his face like a crooked river. Yes, the one thing Kleiner thought was a bigger annoyance than the townspeople on the island: Private Joseph Hagel.
"What are you grinning at, private?" Kleiner interrogated in a low drill-sergeant esque voice, thinking he could scare the kid. Much to his chagrin, he only brought on more pain.
"Oh, nothing, corporal, just thinking about my girlfriend. Man, if you saw her, you'd be in constant awe like me too- she's a real beauty, about.. this tall, maybe?" Hagel said, gesturing with his right hand. His other hand was in his pant pocket. "The most gorgeous blonde hair, man, blue eyes like diamonds and the biggest b-"
Hagel was stopped by the sudden screeching halt the truck came to. "We're here, private," Kleiner said over his shoulder as he climbed out of the truck. "Help me unload these boxes."
It only took a half hour before they were on the road again. Some of the people from Genneves, the village they were just in, helped them unload the crates of free provisions and such. Hagel had shut up about his girlfriend, which Kleiner doubted really existed. Hagel was scrawny as hell though maybe they have a thing for literal skeletons. The cabin of the truck was silent for a moment before Hagel started talking again.
"Why are we doing this again?"
Kleiner sighed. That was a question he couldn't find the words to answer.
An hour or so passed and the duo were close to finishing their route. The last place on their stop, a town called Haville, was popular among the troops because they supported the Kirschan efforts. When off duty, a lot of the soldiers on base would often drive down to Haville to grab a drink at the local bar or something actually good to eat. Kleiner pulled to the side near the Haville town hall and set the truck into park. He beckoned the private out with a wave of the hand and walked over to the back of the truck to unload the last two boxes of supplies. A man in a blue collared shirt and khakis approached him, and introduced himself as the mayor. He offered to help unload the boxes, something that lightened Kleiner's mood for all the hell he had to go through, especially in the summer heat. When they turned to leave however, the man in the collared shirt stopped them.
"Hey," he said, calling to them.
Kleiner swiveled around, "What is it?"
"The order's wrong."
"Uh, should be correct, sir."
Kleiner pulled out some papers from the glove box in the truck and walked back over to the man who was waiting with his hands on his hips. "You know, you guys never messed up like this before."
Kleiner began to feel frustration welling up inside him, but nevertheless sifted through the contents of each of the two boxes and verified it with the list. "Seems alright to me, sir."
"No, the order is wrong," the man insisted.
"We gave you exactly what you asked for, what's the big deal?" Hagel said, flapping his mouth. The man had a look of 'my god, you just killed my child,' on his face. Kleiner stepped over, "I'm really sorry about this, sir. Just tell us what we messed up and we'll bring it to you- private, get in the truck."
"Bu-"
"I said, get in the damn truck."
It turned out that the shipment of hardware was missing from the order log, though Kleiner was skeptical of that. Nevertheless, the two were forced to drive all the way back to base and then go to Haville again to deliver the rest.
"This isn't fair. It's not our god damn fault," Hagel snapped.
"Yeah, it isn't. But we're soldiers. You deal with it. Just think of your pretty girlfriend or whatever, you were in 'awe' about this morning," Kleiner replied dryly.
"She's not real."
"Yea- hold on, what?"
"She's not real."
"So you were sitting here, fantasizing in my god damn truck, about some imaginary woman you came up in your head?"
"Hah, gotcha, corporal."
Kleiner paused, looked the private dead in the eye, and then slapped his helmet. "Screw off."
They got back to the airbase late that night, but Kleiner felt more refreshed than ever. Maybe because he didn't hate Hagel so much as before. Whatever the case though, he was even more doubtful of the mystery woman's existence- whether she was real, or a figment of Hagel's twisted adolescent mind. It was another "great mystery" for corporal Kleiner to chip away at on the island.
Spiritualiza, The United Roman Reich, Albraltar, Ciezka, and 3 othersAravelo, Desula, and Union of Arandina
Post by Meowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww suppressed by The United Roman Reich.
Hello.Meow
[img]https://imgur.com/a/TbuXP4V[/img]
Hello, we are the diplomats that our leader sent
we are the small nation, the Borderlands of the three republics, we are a united republic that wants to make our number 1 goal to be united and stay. We are a run by our glory’s leader who wants the best for us and protect us. Our Government is a Psychotic Dictatorship and we have a central government for our three tribes who united. Our past is not to be questioned but we can tell that we where 3 tribes who were strongly allied and diplomatically close, with our relationship increasing and with a famine and unusual hot weather meant we needed to join and work together to make our life’s better.
We the Republic of three republics are represented in the Central Three republics Government: CTRG. Our original village names where, Kingdom of blue stone, Village of the running river and Republic of red sun. with us now united and with our glorious leader who started this nation as the head of the state and last to say his word, we do not have real power only a say in the politics of our nation. As our allies say we are not a really democratic nation with elections outlawed and no political freedom.
our industry is capitalist but we in the central government do not really like that.... but anyways, we have a central planed government industry and small capitalist factories which is primarily trout fishing and agriculture. we plan in the central government to outlaw capitalist pigs, but our leader is the ultimate leader who says no all the time.
Our well-planned defence forces and police corps are our number 1 priority and with that we can expand and grow our empire, we will stay here and expand. And if someone want to threaten us, we will be ready to defend with our lives.
We are in a temperate climate which means we get snow and good summers and our priority is to minimise factory sludge and all our waste is recycled and reused, that is why we have such clean nature. Our nature and beaches are the cleanest and if you break the strict law you will be punished and executed. we the people of Three republics are free and allowed to do anything within the law book.
But there is a dark side to everything, out central industry called Big Government Industries or BGI which mainly produce uranium rods and technology, and that leads me to the next point. We run a active space program with billions in spending each year. This is important time to expand beyond the region and make some space colonies.
History: We where settlers from a old village who disagreed and didn’t want to work together, we splitted up in the region and found our own villages. After 200 ish years we finally unite after our struggles are getting worse. We have experienced a lot in our 200 years of separation and we almost killed of Blue Stone Village which was the head village for Kingdom Of Blue Stone.
Start of our united nation was hard and rough but with our strong leader who is starting to get on the older side guided us to the right path and promised us to be always there. We as the people think this is a good start to the region and uniting other villages that are independent and in need that is why we spend a lot on foreign aid and helping others. Education is an important part to make us flourish and make us stronger, we have a strict law that say every student needs to take national tests and pass and If you don’t pass you wont get a second chance to prove yourself.
We as the Borderlands of the three republics welcome anyone who wants to work with us and help
Lerodan News War: on the threat that is unions
The Janky intro to Lerodan news war played, before opening up to Ale Joni. he was leaning in his chair, legs on the desk, with clown makeup on his face. His hair was colored neon green, including his beard. “We live in a society dominated by the liberal elite! An elite who threaten to destroy YOUR job with such talks of ‘dealing’ with the do-good communist workers outside Kotka, a business that delivers what you need! These communists, self classed ‘unionists’ have nearly shut down the delivery industry!”
Ale Joni gripped his head, screaming uncontrollably, before calming down and continuing. “These unionists want to turn Aatelisia into the communist hellhole that is The United Roman Reich or some such! They want to destroy our way of life, because they haven’t worked an honest day in their life! Saying that Palatsinlinna’s too expensive to live in! Maybe, it is. Maybe in fact it IS expensive to live in Palatsinlinna, when all you eat is Salmon and Reindeer meat! I bet they haven’t even heard of white bread, or canned food, cause their parents fed them like kings! Yet these kings, these people, can’t earn their worth without getting fired! Perhaps being pampered to your every need doesn’t make you ready for the real world, HMM?”
Ale Joni cleared his throat, drinking back a shot of whiskey before laughing hysterically.
“Listen here. These Unionists are just another part of the Liberal media. They want to destroy the country, as always, by trying to achieve Utopian standards of living. IT. IS. BULLCRAP. It’s unachievable! Albraltar is a damned Communist country covering up blowing up their own people! Do you want those no-good socialists in government to destroy our nation? NOOOO! Työväenpuolue, the so-called ‘party of labor’ is poisoning the youth of Aatelisia; in elementary, middle, high, college, ALL OF IT! They think taxing more will give more, and I am SICK of their lies! Rasmus Talaka, I know you’re lying!”
The sweat on Ale Joni’s face has begun to wear off the paint on his face, slowly collecting in his beard.
“Let’s look more into this: just weeks ago, we were celebrating the 75th celebration of the founding of the republic. A Republic that we ALL know is better than the monarchy that existed previously! And these ‘socialists’ and ‘liberals’ fail to mention who was in the conflict beyond the monarchy! There were warlords, yes, but also a full blown COMMUNIST STATE, that threatened the Republican movement! There was also a SOCIALIST STATE, with close ties to these reds! Coincidence? That’s what the Socialists want you to believe!”
Ale Joni got up from his chair, and slammed his hands on the desk, before sliding them across its surface, sending papers flying in the air. The grown man then howled like a wolf.
“I DON’T WANT MY CHILDREN, OR MY CHILDREN’S CHILDREN, OR MY CHILDREN’S CHILDREN’S CHILDREN LIVING IN SOME STATE DREAMT UP BY A COMMUNIST!”
Ale Joni breathed in and out heavily, before once more calming down and sitting down.
“Keep an eye out, fellow Aatelisians. There is a war coming, a war brewing in the underbelly of the nation, where Communists and Socialists and Anarchists hold hands as they burn the capital to the ground! If they plan to destroy this country, they’ll have another thing coming! I RALLY ALL AATELISIANS, TO DEFEND TRADITION! This Capitalist economy has done good, through both the good and bad! Whilst our economy struggled in the 30s, it healed! It restored itself! Can the same be said about the URR, or, dare I say, Albratar? We must look to Tabariye, who, you must remember, founded the ideas of the modern republic! Was Sisoğu a Socialist? NO. Was he a communist? NO. Did he support the ideas of Republicanism, where above all, freedom must be upheld? YES! YES! YES! This has been Ale Joni. Welcome to the Lerodan News War.”
Spiritualiza, The United Roman Reich, and Aravelo
The Economy, you fool!
President Rasmus Talaka sat down at his desk, looking over the papers that littered it. Getting bothered, he got out of his chair, looking out the window of his presidential residence, locking his hands behind his hands. A Loud knock was heard against his door. “Come in!” the president shouted, barely looking over his shoulder.
A woman rushed in, almost breaking out into a jog in her high heels. She had on a red jacket and a black skirt, her hair short and black. “President Talaka!”
Rasmus looked over his shoulder. It was Niina Saari, his vice president for this term and, hopefully, the next. “Ah, Niina! How’s the-”
“Rasmus! You know why I’m here!”
Rasmus sighed and turned around. “Yes, yes I know. The Kotka union situation.”
“The economy of Aatelisia can not survive forever if the entirety of the delivery industry can’t ]deliver, Rasmus!”
“I know, I know. Which is why I am cooperating with the Conservatives for this issue. We’re going to bust the strike, and get this economy running again.”
“Rasmus, I have to disagree with you solving it this way.”
Rasmus looked down, before looking out the window. “And how so?”
“You’re known as a kind hearted and benevolent president. You’re known for raising charities and visiting workers at their sites, insisting on higher wages for them! Yet you wish to close down a strike for a union in Kotka, going against the promises you made!”
“But the economy, Niina.”
“Th-the what?”
“The Economy! It needs to keep steaming along. Should it stall up for too long there won’t be anything left but a rump state with a fishing industry!”
Niina folded her arms. “You haven’t been watching that whack job Ale Joni, have you? That man actively headhunts our party!”
Rasmus shook his head. “At the beginning of my presidency, I stated that I would continue to grow the Aatelisian Economy, and establish a new standard for our nation. So far, I’ve achieved this. But I will not allow the ideas of Unions to destroy this, the companies won’t allow it!”
“You’d side with the companies before the people of Aatelisia, who voted for you on the knowledge that you’d bring us closer to the Labor Party and bring up the standard of living!? To damn their decisions in the name of ‘the economy’!?
Rasmus turned his head only slightly, clearly built up in rage. “I’d side with the companies, yes! But only to save the people of Aatelisia, to keep their jobs, else throw them all away to some state in Kastia! Aatelisia must continue to grow, our economy must continue to grow! Else we face the issue of stagnating, and being usurped in the markets we know we can handle!
“I see what kind of man you are now, Rasmus! You’d side with enemies before your promises!”
“ I selected you, Niina, cause you’re smart. You know what runs a nation, and you know where I stand on my issues without having to act. Now, I question my decision, especially with you reprimanding me on this.”
“I only joined this damned party cause I thought I would be helping the people of Aatelisia, not the party’s standing with the companies! You aren’t nothing-”
“Get out.” Rasmus growled.
“-But a puppet to the companies-”
Rasmus turned fully around, and raised his voice. “Get out of my damn house, Niina!”
Niina stopped her rant, before Nodding. “I will! Knowing who you truly are, I will give you the dignity to destroy the future of the party of liberty in your own home!” Niina opened up the door behind her, and slammed it shut behind her.
Rasmus sighed, looking outside once more. His thoughts dwelled on the issues, especially with those of his vice president.
Spiritualiza and The United Roman Reich
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