The Land Down Under.
June 30th, 1940
Waters around Whidsey.
Collaboration with Magna Kalonia
Water splashed against the gigantic vessel's hull, it's 18 inch guns shining in the sunlight. Next to it was an Armada of ships of the 3rd Fleet, Imperial Calarimian Navy. This is the first time the entire fleet had been floated together in one formation, and for good reason. It contained the new Yukio Class Battleship and multiple carriers. Included with a misc amount of Destroyers and Cruisers. Today they would strike swiftly and provoke a strategic victory on the colony. Today marked Calarim's vengeance for 1922.
Admiral Oliver Twish stood on board one of the decks of a shining Kalonian Destroyer. A massive ship in a group of dozens patrolling the coast in and around Whidsey. The Admiral held a pair of binoculars up to his eyes. The ships in this massive coast guard were prepared to begin a treacherous invasion of NWO controlled islands to decrease the morale of the islands controllers. Most of the massive ships were in peak condition, save for the few rusty smaller ships of the former coast guard. The new ships were in peak performance and on the Prime Minister's orders a massive group of soldiers were set up on the mainland behind the ships as a fail safe. If all else fails and an invasion begins to sweep the land, they would have an army to fight for it.
Along side the surface fleet, another threat lurked. Multiple Type C submarines were making their way ahead of the main fleet, which was cruising at a steady universal 10 Knots. The Submarines main goal was to disable or sink larger capital ships, that could pose a threat. Strict orders to not engage the Cruisers and DDs were given. Only Carriers, Battleships, and Battlecruisers would be engaged. The lead periscope peaked up as they approached they're target, a Queen Liliana Class Battleship. 4 Torpedoes were launched silently as the submarine dived.
The Admiral squints through the binoculars. In the distance sparkled a few specks on the water. Admiral Twish turned to one of his officers. "Tell the others ships we are moving forward to take a look at the waters in front of us. Tell the subs that the mine laying mission should be over and move back to the harbor." Twish said to the officer who immediately ran to a radio to relay the orders. "All sent Admiral." the Officer said. Right as the water began to churn around the engines of the massive ships there was a small whooshing sound. Right then the hull of the HMS Jarvis, a Queen Liliana Class Battleship exploded and the ship began to list heavily. The other ships around it began to rock violently. "What the bloody hell was that?!?" Twish screamed to the Officers around him. The radio on the table beside them began to crackle. "Torpedoes! We're hit!" said the officer on the other end. "Oh no. Ready the cannons! We're in for one hell of a fight!" barked Twish to his officers. The ship whirred into action. The crew began to blindly fire into the water, shooting at a foe they couldn't see.
The captain of I-18 looked at the ship as it began to list heavily. "Good hits, reload torpedoes!"
I-18 retreated to the rear of the submarine line as others lined up their shots. 1 would fire on the badly wounded HMS Jarvis with a single torpedo and would also begin to strike other ships. This was a calm process, despite the splashing of water as shells struck around them. Suddenly, I-18 was hit as an explosion raptured the water, sending the ship to the depths of the ocean with all hands on board.
Admiral Twish began to sweat heavily as the water around the ships erupted into a chaotic underwater storm. "Officers! Signal the HMS Jarvis and the HMS George to retreat! The other ships must hold their ground! Keep on shooting!" The Admiral screamed to the remaining officers surrounding him. They sprung into action leaving Twish in the bridge with a handful of high ranking officers. This was a naval ambush. An ambush that no one could have anticipated. The radio crackled again as to the horror of the other ships, the HMS Jarvis began to slip below the waves.
3RD FLEET CARRIER IWAKIRI
The Carrier cruised along, near the front of the line. On it's deck dive and torpedoes bombers. All ready for combat, awaiting a signal. That came in from I-20, apart of the Submarine force after the sinking of I-18. A deck member swung a flag of red and the white and green planes pulled themselves off the deck and flew for the fleet formation.
The remaining torpedoes had been expended, sent at the enemy lethally and silently. They all had crash dived after to avoid I-18's fate. They had pulled back, their job done. They felt sorry for whereever their torpedoes would strike next... almost.
The fleet saw in the sky flew a squadron of Calarimian planes. Twish screamed the orders for the fleet to scatter to avoid the rapidly approaching squad. The giant turrets of the fleet aimed skyward. Divided and ready, the guns began to spray. Twish ordered for the officers in the bridge to ready for any approaching plane. The crew was undoubtedly terrified yet somehow, Twish's steadfastness behavior was calming in a way. The ships readied for the worst.
As Yukio passed into range, it's massive 18 inch guns raised and let a thunderous volley fly. 6 18 inch shells flew at the foe as they lowered and the men loaded up the next volley.
The Torpedo bombers lowered for their room, hovering above the water. They held steady even as fire whizzed around them. Their explosive payload was dropped and they pulled off. The Dive Bombers maintained altitude as they lined up in preperation.
The ships began to scatter as the sky began to rain upon them. They became very aware of the impending doom of the Torpedoes that were rapidly closing on them. The ships began to flee backward and to their sides to move out of the way of these torpedoes. The ships began to point their guns at the dive bombers, ready for the worst. Two of the slower ships were impacted by the brutal explosions of the torpedoes and immediately sank beneath the waves. The shots from the 18 inch guns impacted the water around the ships. Twish smirked. He told his officer in a steady tone "Unleash the cannon fire". The officer told the other ships these orders and then radioed the crew. The massive guns on the ships began to fire a barrage at the Calarimian fleet.
The Dive Bombers rolled and began their rapid decent. Wind flew past the cockpits as they kept their aim steady. If their nerves broke now that would mean their death. The ship's superstructure grew closer, and closer... At the last moment, they dropped their bombs and pulled up. One did not make the pull up, slamming into the superstructure of a ship, it's fuel leaking and sparking aflame.
Aboard Yukio, the ship had turned to broadside. The ship itself, along with the carriers were out of range of the smaller guns of the enemy, but the Heavy and Light Cruisers sailed forward, taking a brunt of the force. The DDs sped forward as the screen for the Cruiser force. Yukio unleashed a broadside of flame and death.
Twish watched as an 18 inch round hit the ship to his left, erupting it's deck into flame. "Organize a full retreat. We must regroup with the rest of the fleet if we want to win. We are under armed. GO!!!" Twish shouted to the officers. "I'll be back you Calarimian bastards. You won't be able to catch us off guard again." Twish muttered as the ships began to retreat over the line of mines protecting the coast.
The Cruiser fleet stopped their advance and watched the fleet withdraw. The Admiral aboard the Yukio nodded pleased with the naval action. They would take these islands.
The Terror Begins
May 27th, 1940
Collab with Miklozia and Calarim
At once, the doors to the office Arcadisia's governor-general Niwa Tokimasa were forced open, and from the other side strode in the small, yet towering in spite of his stature Erwin Ostfeld, soldiers running in behind him. The skull on his cap gazing over the governor-general just as his eyes did. He readjusted his monocle, before walking forward to the man at the desk and retrieving from his coat an edict from the Calarimian Emperor, handing it to the man. "I'm afraid you have replaced, Governor-General."
Niwa Tokimasa, who was already packing his bags, smiled.
"I pity the poor sod who has to take up my position then. Haha, I was waiting for this day. Finally, I am am free." He stretched and picked up his bags. "Ah, I believe you are Miklozian, right?" He looked around, confused.
Ostfeld snickered, adjusting his monocle once again in disgust. "Exoan, as a matter of a fact." He said, swooping toward the desk and leaning his hands against its wood below. "I'm afraid this colony is in need of a much... fresher perspective."
"And so it is. I am nothing like my predecessor, I was only parroting his late policies in all earnest." He chuckled. "I'd like to give whoever the new Governor General is a few tips but...I'm too busy for that. Aikawa!" An official ran in. "Are you done packing your things? Get my car ready, and make sure you've packed those boat tickets!"
"Yes sir!" The man said, and he ran out.
"Finally." He said. "I can leave this blasted peninsula. I hope that the new Governor General can offer the fresher perspective you wish for this region." He bowed to Ostfeld, and started to walk out.
"Well, good sir." The Exoan General said, a wicked smile growing over his lips as a soldier brought in a bottle of Mozakan champagne. "You're looking at the new Governor-General." He said, his wicked smile growing and his eyes glazed over in ambition.
"Ah - pardon me?" Tokimasa looked back at him. "Actually no, I heard that perfectly." he said as his mind went through all of the protocols his predecessor had left him. Would a non-Calarimian understand the workings of Archuko? He walked over to the phone. He looked at the gleaming ivory handle. "Ah, I believe I am not allowed to simply use this phone without permission anymore as I am no longer Governor General..." He looked at Ostfeld. "Could I...use it?"
"Please." He said, sinking into the chair behind the desk as one of his soldiers poured him a glass of the sweet Mozakan brew.
Niwa Tokimasa dialed the phone using the brass knobs. He waited for the line to come on, then spoke.
"My Emperor? I know you just called but...is the new Governor General the Exoan General Ostfeld?"
"That is correct." He spoke from the other side, taking a long sip from tea. "Ostfeld has been appointed Govener General until further notice. Do not use this line again, Niwa."
"Yes, I can assure you I have the full confidence of Emperor Yukio." Ostfeld said, his voice marred with confidence. "And the policies which you and your 'predecessor' put it into place will all be scrapped." He said, swooping the shot up and drinking from the champagne. "Your failures cannot be repeated."
"Hmmph." Niwa looked at Ostfeld coldly, his tone changing. "Then by all means, go ahead, fix what you think I did wrong, whatever that may be." He said mockingly. Though I have no doubt you'll at least end up using some of the other guy's policies anyways, regardless of how you rename it." He grumbled to himself. "Aikawa!" he yelled out. "Get my car!" Niwa Tokimasa stepped out of the building, leaving the Governor General Complex.
June 1st, 1940
Like the roaring of a thousand demons across the night sky, in the very early morning the Tigers which had been stationed in Asadal now for months began rolling out of the city. The people of Asadal drew a sigh of relief, assuming the tanks would be leaving, but their happiness would be misplaced. For they did not roll out of the city, instead stopping at the limits of Asadal and turning to face the city itself. Thousands of engineers, Exoans, Miklozians and Calarimians alike, began building a makeshift wall, a circle surrounding the city as the Calarimian navy formed a circular blockade on the city's coast.
As dawn broke over the city, The Exoan General who had orchestrated the city's demise stood atop a podium, the same podium where a crowd had been executed prior, and he had endeavored to take over the reins of the colony.
"Arcadisians," he said, his voice quivering with power, "Whatever liberty you had before this point is now ended." He said, coldness striking through his voice. "For the next month, this city will be under lockdown. There will no entry, and no exits. There will no food, no water, nothing. This is a righteous punishment bestowed upon you for your rebellious nature. Asadal will be a sacrificial lamb, whose blood shall stain the rest of your puny nation. It is only through this, that we can have order. If July first comes," he said, his eyes narrowing as he wiped his eyeglass, "and every single rebel who orchestrated the attack in this square has not come forward, I will order the burning of every residential building in this city. Dismissed." He said, before turning and walking back, his hands behind his back.
"How does that sound to you?" Ellie asked Charles.
"If I may Ms. Ryu, that sound positively pleasant. Oh, how we all love having our entire capital city BURNED TO A CRISP." He said in a sarcastic manner. Charles stopped and looked around. "Well I suppose that explains why a lot of Calarimians civilians were leaving." He gritted his teeth. "Should have shot at them while we had the chance..."
"No matter. So, what's our first order of business? Getting out of here or..." She looked at the other city dwellers as they worried. They got in close, trying to overhear the conversation.
"I have to at least visit my sickly father!" said a man to his friends. "We should find the rebels, I can't allow him to die alone."
"And what, give up?" asked another. "You're telling us to just give in? You seriously think they'll let us go if we hand the over to them?"
"There are Miklozians and Exoans there, aren't there?" an older man in his 50's said. "I've survived worse. The Miklozians, the Exoans, they're good people. I know they can be reasoned with, unlike the Calarimians. Look and see." The man walked up to an Exoan officer, and tried to communicate the best he could. "Er...hello sir? I wish to speak to the General." He tried to give the friendliest smile he could.
The soldier, his MG39 in his hands and the pendent of the New World on his shoulder, stared down at the old man, before beginning to cockle. "Hey Jan!" He said, ushering another soldier to him. "He wants to meet General Ostfeld!" And the other soldier began to laugh with him. At once, the soldier struck the end of his gun against the side of the man's head in a single, swift motion.
The man fell over onto the ground unconscious as several people within the vicinity gasped or screamed.
"Why those little b-" Ellie clenched her teeth and almost stepped forward, but Charlie held her arm.
"Ellie. Don't." He stared at her. "It's not going to do any good to get ourselves caught here." Charlie looked at the man, who was being helped up and quickly ushered out of the soldiers' sight as the surrounding people retreated even further from the lines. "We have to get out of here."
"And just...leave everyone else?" Charlie closed his eyes, defeat on his face.
"Sir?" Another rebel fighter had come up to them. "We...could give them a fighting chance though, right?"
"Most of our supplies aren't in Asadal. The primary armory is located near the creek, as you know."
"Creek?" The rebel looked confused.
"Nevermind. It's not in the city, that's what I mean." Charlie said.
"We could use the sewers to go to and fro." said the rebel soldier.
"I'm sure they've locked that down."
"The secret passageways?"
"We...have secret passageways?" Charlie looked at him confused. "Either way, even if such thing exists, that's too slow. We can't transport enough supplies to the people in fast enough. The creek is located too far out."
"You still have yet to tell me where this creek is sir. Aren't there too many creeks?"
"Shh! Wait." Charlie headed over to the old man, who was heading their way. He helped the citizens transport him out of the square.
The White Palace,
16th June 1940, 11:24 a.m.
Royal Quarters, Belgrade
The King prepares a speech to address the public. The events of the past five days have been rough and unpleasant, filled with political upheaval, riots and law enforcement officers. The dust has mostly settled, but it is unclear what does the future hold for Yugoslavia. No response has been made from the NWO so far, but the neutrality the people so desperately crave is, at least, partly preserved. His tailor is fitting his new white uniform on him, and his hatter is putting his work on His Majesty's head. People, reporters, and other interested groups all assemble in front of the palace to mark his speech. A slight breeze is cooling everyone. The anthem starts playing, and everyone sitting stands up, to embrace the national pride. The Royal Orchestra together with the Royal Yugoslav Choir singing. After the formality, the royal clerk makes an announcement in the name of His Majesty.
"Hereby, in the name of His Majesty, the President-Regent of Yugoslavia, Paul I, I announce that His Majesty will hold a speech that is due to begin in the following minutes. Please, the President-Regent will take questions, but only after he finishes his speech. I want from you, the ever respectible journalists, to hold your temper and to listen to His Majesty without interrupting. Everyone will be able to deliver at least one question to the President-Regent. Thank you for your attention!" - With that anouncement, he retreats back into the palace, where Paul I is almost ready to start. He has a white hat with the Yugoslav greater arms on the front, a white suit with the Order of the Karađorđe Star on his left side, a black armband on the left arm, two red epaulettes with his monogram on each shoulder, navy blue pants and black shoes. The main gates open, and Paul I slowly starts walking down the red carpet to his platform. Unusual joy is going thorugh him, a feeling he hasn't been encountering for over a week now. He gently stops, puts his walking cane on the side and unfolds the paper his speech is written on.
"Dear citizens of Yugoslavia, I need to thank you. I admire your courage, your strenght and resolute actions to bring Yugoslavia back onto the right path. But I am also in deep grieving, as the day on which you took the nation out of the treaty with Vranastrova, countless innocent lives were taken. The Gendarmerie fired at you, defying my explicit orders not to shoot. I would never want to kill my people. I would never try to hurt my people. I dismissed the government, which grew ever so close to the NWO, and the National Assembly, an intitution which was supposed to evolve our political life and bring only the best to the people of Yugoslavia, but those expectations did not materialise. We will stay in this state until the environment calms down a little. The Royal Salvation Council will, with me, manage the country until the conditions become favourable enough for the return of democracy. The Council will consist of Dragiša Cvetković, Pavle Radić, Dušan Simović, Ivan Šubašić, Svetozar Pribičević and me, as President of the Council. In these turbulent times, we need a powerful leadership, leadership that will protect our national interests, assert our neutrality and respect other regional powers. We will cherish our neutrality, we will cherish it for as long as we remain a free, stable and prosperous nations. Who wants war? Who is rooting for suffering, economic and culutral collapse, destroyed fields, factories and cities? Who wants countless lives to be lost, wiped out from the face of this planet never to be seen again? if you do, you are free to leave. We will never fight someone else's wars. Not while I rule. I can guarantee that this temporary state of emergency will uphold the same human and civil rights and political freedoms. Me and my inner circle decided this was best for Yugoslavia in this very moment. We didn't want the riot in Belgrade to escalate into a full civil war, because I am sure the government was ready to start one. They were eager to join the NWO, but recent events showed that our nation isn't planning on joining anyone. If we have let our institutions do their job, the National Assembly would do nothing, as they already showed they cannot function under these kinds of situations, the government would declare state of emergency and use the special powers to get us into NWO, while people, like you, would riot, fight with the police! A civil war! That is what would happen. Bring communists into the mix, and Yugoslavia would disintegrate! I cannot find a bigger joy than seeing a democracy work, but if I see our democracy crumbling before my eyes, I take it as a moral duty to my subjects that I act. I hope I made no mistake. I honoured your needs, and your needs are always noble! You may be my subjects, but I will always be your servant!"
With these words President-Regent Paul I ended his speech. People, upon hearing this, started cheering "Long live the King! Long live Yugoslavia!" and clapping. Paul I was filled with pride, and people were filled with happiness, knowing that Yugoslavia will continue with it's policy of everlasting neutrality. But, just as the people started celebrating, the jounralists were preparing questions for the President-Regent to answer. First, a journalist from the official national gazette, Narodne novine, got to ask.
"How will you guarantee that all laws, declarations and rights stay the same and unchanged, now that the Council has all the power?"
"We, as said before, will honour all of the valid legislation that was passed up to this point. We will not changed any of that legislation, unless seen completely necessary. We will open a Public Relations Board to which any citizen of Yugoslavia will be able to send a suggestion that will be reviewed and, if deemed as helpful, will be forwarded to the Royal Salvation Council. We will also have weekly conferences open to the public and the journalists on which you will be able to question us or any new legislation passed by the Council, to which we will then answer. Thank you fo your question."
A reporter from the Hrvatski glasnik was up next for the question.
"Now that Yugoslavia withdrew from the treaty with Vranastrova, how will our relations change and do you think will Vranastrova take some measures against Yugoslavia?"
"I cannot possibly comment on this matter as the Vranastrovan government nor any of their responsible officials gave any opinion or comments on the withdrawal, and it is for that reason I am unable to speak on any potential changes between our two countries. So far, we had decent and respectible relations and I want that to stay the case. I am sure that, if there will be any disagreements we will resolve them diplomatically and in a civilised manner."
The questions continued on into the early afternoon. They went smoothly and generally in a very positive tone. By 2 p.m. all questions were answered, and the reporters left the White Palace front yard. The President-Regent was tired and hungry, and he went inside to eat. After eating a plentiful dinner he went to his room to relax, into a hot tub and a glass of wine. On the gramophone the greatest works of Vivaldi, Salieri, van Beethoven and Wagner, but as well as some domestic ones like Jakov Gotovac and Ivan Zajc, were playing. He deserves to relax, he thinks to himself. The week was long and tiring, but at least the stability remained high. There will be more convincing to do, not everyone is in. Before he could start thinking deeper, however, he fell asleep.
"Fiat iustitia, et pereat mundus (Let justice be done, though the world perish)"
The great silence could only mean bad things ahead. Border guards disappearing, birds falling silent, the lack of the hum of ships or cars,
But that was not important, not right now. Things would continue soon.
Olier sat back in his chair. He did it. He could finally fix that bastard Bentram's failures. The state would become the most feared above all, ready to unleash true slaughter against all Bootlickers of the Miklozia-
the door opened, a young officer stumbling in, jolting him out of his racing thoughts.
He sat up, hands firmly supporting him on his fine, polished-wood desk as he looked up, ready to give him a scolding.
"What the hell are you doing in my office, Mariev? I need time to thi-"
"Supreme Commander, you expected us to require the black cliques' loyalist soldiers soon, yes?"
"Of course, what the-" He said, before the officer stopped him again, Olier growing more and more Irate.
"The revolutionary army has surrendered. From the west bank to the southern mountains, the PN-PA reigns above all!"
This quickly? Can only be a trick. He knew the rotten communist filth that inhabited their ranks. They would surrender, and propably riot in the capital and get him hung off of the flagpole outside.
He sighed, sitting down in his leather office chair, looking outside.
"You know, I never expected to make it this far. What is the armies view of us?"
"Rather... Neutral, as of now."
"Good. Have any loyalists join our ranks, if possible. We can't lose that valuable manpower."
"And the hardliners?"
"Have them rot in corrective labor." He snarled, cold as the Commander could be.
"Are you sure?" The officer looked, trying to probe if he was joking or not.
"Sir, I can not express how unsure I am of the situation in the north..." He muttered, trying to steer away the conversation from work camps.
"Explain. Is it with Caloy and the Great plains?"
"Sort of. They had already attempted to blockade and prepare a invasion before, during the civil war."
"Activate Case Gray!"
"Y-you can't be serious!" He said, knowing full well that case grey would cause horrific consequences.
"Not the full plan, but the defensive part....." He muttered, relenting. Just to get this idiot out of his office.
"Good..." He sighed.
"I have to go."
"Good, please leave."
He went, quiet as a mouse.
Olier leaned back in the office, having already removed all the bolshevistic Propaganda hours before, having set it ablaze in the courtyard. He smiled. Only thing he could respect of the previous state is that they fought against greedy collaborators before them. If they hadn't, he would have just gotten them shot.
Oh well, he just looked outside, thinking of what plans to perform once he is done.
From the west bank to the inland forests, the black army stands above all.
Arcadisia and Federation of yugoslavia
Changing of the Guard
The Unit stood firm as a wall in the courtyard, all holding flags of the old Federation.
This was the second burning, a symbolic end of the old state that had failed to keep itself together while circled by vultures.
Every line of soldiers threw their flags and artifacts in a manner that was so distainful, as if they just picked up a rotten apple.
They then removed their pristine white gloves, throwing them down aswell. None of them wanted any dirt of the old on themselves.
Then the line stepped off.
Rinse and repeat for multiple units.
Before the Commander himself stepped up, with a bottle of kerosene and a matchbox.
He poured it over the Dirty flags of the past, before setting them alight, staring into the flames.
Bentram had done nothing but betrayed the people with his apathy and failure.
Now, they could Clean the nation into a ruthlessly efficient state, at all costs.
The Bottles Are Thrown - Eastern Sparspourg - March 14th, 1940
It was a cold and wet day upon the downtown areas of the capital, of which Marcin and Lucy were not different, both soaked and drenched with the rain, they're only prevention being trams. Unluckily, the nearest were broken and both were bundled together with large crowds of the same fate. The cold temperatures had seen quite alot of people stuffed into cover, and the university students were now different. Bundled together, the rain didn't look like it was to start. Marcin grasped a small piece of paper, which had got partially wet due to the rain. Holding it in his right palm, he guided his left finger to the path they were heading. It was a basic map, simply just the main ways towards their destination. With both nodding with acceptance, they awaited for the tram to come through at the local station, the cold weather battling those still to the outside. As the tram eventually cameo the large crowd, Marcin gripped Lucy's arm and raced to get into. With both the bustle of the crowd and the heavy hitting rain, it made it that much harder to get one. Fights even spurred towards the back of the crowds, and fortunately, the two university students made it on, almost seconds before the tram raced off towards the next station just outside the capital. Marcin shook his hair at a rapid rate, attempting to get a little drier. Lucy did the same, her longer hair harder to get dry. The two huddled to a nearby corner of the tram, holding two empty black bags. They were cheap from the universities storage cupboard, as they held them, Marcin noticed the surprising amount of Miklozian Soldiers onboard, and with this, looked down, biting a small piece of baguette as the two hoped for the best.
In a matter of an hour, the rain had calmed a little, yet, it was still heavy and drenching their clothes. Now around 8 miles from the capital, the two made their way to the local cafe, while also being drenched by the rain, constantly. The cafe was in their eye sight and eventually entered, sitting upon the closest chairs. The two looked dead at each other, before nodding once again. Marcin ushered a waitress towards him, as two glasses of water were laid immediately upon a table. The two weren't ready to order, but took a napkin from a pot and began writing times, the times of the train. A train went through the middle of the town, cutting it in half. It was a cargo train and if they were lucky, some of the carriage doors were open. They needed the right timing get onto the train. The walk between the cafe and train track would be dangerous. Patrols were heavy, as Marcin noticed 7 of the soldiers in the area, playing Black Jack and drinking alcohol. Lucy glanced to them for a second, before both ordered a croissant each. Lurking to behind him, a corporal of the Miklozian Army was right behind him, ranging at a tall height, taller than Marcin then. A smile from Lucy was a satisfaction to him, as he grasped a third chair and sat by them both, a nervous look by the two young adults came. The corporal grasped her croissant, which had arrived just seconds before his entrance, taking a large bite into it. Lucy did nothing, knowing it wasn't worth it. Keeping his cool, Marcin did the same. The room felt quieter than usual, as the three sitting upon the table began to talk.
"What are you two doing here then?" He noticed their city-look, and talked with a wicked look. The corporal stared upon the two with a fate in his eye. He gave a smile to both, yet, questioned their appearance at the cafe.
"We're visiting someone" Said Marcin at a quick note, thinking of something to get the man away of their conversation. He grasped his own croissant and took a bite. The taste of it was great, as he prepared for the response from the solider. Lucy kept silent, just hoping he wouldn't be killed, and herself not be asked anything.
"Hmm, and the girl?" He asked Marcin, glancing his head to the woman. He was older than the two, only by a few years. Finishing off her croissant, he smiled with a snarling grin. Marcin nodded.
"She is with me, just a friend" He answered, smiling a little to Lucy. The two smiled too each-other, as the corporal grew with unusual anger. Spurring up from from his seat, he pushed over her seat as she fell to the floor. Having already got the bottles from a storage unit in another town, which was near the town, just a few miles out and near the station he had gone on the train, he quickly opened the bag and slammed the empty bottle upon the corporals head. Seeing the mistake he had just made, he griped Lucy's Armand raced off, with his other arm gripping two bags of glass bottles. As the small group often saw this, they went off in pursuit. As more and more soldiers began to notice this attack and of the two running fairly quickly. Shouts came from soldiers nearby, as the two noticed the train beginning to head off at speed. With the added weight of the bottles, Lucy handed the other bag of bottles in a swift motion to Marcin, as she pelted off to the train. Attempting to catch up to her, the train was getting nearer and nearer.
Lucy plowed through, clambering onto an empty and open carriage. She awaited for her friend, but as the train caught speed, getting faster and faster, she was out of the reach for what Marcin could do. Getting as close as he could, he landed the two bags upon one open carriage, but however, couldn't get onto the same one, now awaiting a fate worse than death. Seeing the soldiers get closer and closer, he began sprinting, clinging onto a simple railing with the help of strength. With his legs unable to keep up with the increasing speed, Marcin attempted to hang onto a higher platform of some sort, unable to get the sight anything useful. As the shouts came closer and closer, attempting to follow to were the train was heading. Hanging onto a higher platform, he looked onwards to a bridge, in which, if he remained on the same platform, would be crushed between the train and the edges of the bridge to the ground. As he heard the shots firing from the trains open area, Marcin was too late. Crushed in-between, his lifeless body fell to the ground, a quiet thud came through. Lucy had no clue, only hoping Marcin was alive and found an entrance to an open carriage. As the train went through speed by speed, she waited, as the rain poured upon the tracks and the outskirts of the train exterior, the cold wind brushing through her clothes.
A few hours went by, and eventually, Lucy had gathered to the two heavy bags of bottles and gathered and walked her way towards a local tram station 7 miles from the capital. She had managed to gather the bags when the train stopped 45 minutes into her escape for an technological issue towards the front of the train, near enough, it was away from were Lucy had entered an open carriage and with little to no patrols of were she was, which was good enough in the middle of rural Mozaka, quickly made her way towards the back of the train, scooping through open carriages and managed to find the bags untouched by any foreigners. Grasping them, she entered the same carriage she had previously got onto to and the train went smoothly off.
Eventually, she made it to the tram station, just in time for a near-empty tram carriage to arrive. Pilling on, she made her way to the capital, of which the acts of the resistance would come. They were making the Molotov Bottles to spark a revolution. "Viva La Mozaka" she stated in a head, the cries of freedom to her head. But, her head also thought of where Marcin was, alive, dead, captured, in the capital already?
Miklozia and Federation of yugoslavia
Coronation of Duke Zigmas
The palace gates have been swarmed for days, so packed with people, that the sheer force of them attempting to squeeze their bodies through the minuscule gaps of the iron bars was causing them to bend. It moved like a wave, and every time they smashed into the great barrier of the palace, each and every guard held their breath, fearing the gate would collapse in front of their eyes. They were not here to witness the coronation of the king, but instead came for the feast that would come shortly after. Children stuck out their arms through the tight pockets of the gate, grasping at the feat of the many guards. Women begged to be let in, “We just want a loaf of bread” they would garble, before their voices became drowned among the horde. Men attempted to haul one another over the fence, only to fall to the ground cracking a nose or arm. The snapping of bones echoed across the palace garden.
Whilst the outside of the palace resembled more of a riot than a gathering of people, the rear palace entrance was devoid of all life. An army of guards stood by, nervously awaiting for the blaring howl of an accordion. The tension was palpable, sweat dripped from each one of the guards, eventually forming an aroma of moisture around them. But then they saw it. Deep in the distance, the royal carriage. Its presence was obvious, for it sparkled in the sunlight like glazed pork. Each guard immediately snapped out of their self induced heat stroke and let out a salut. As the carriage continued to approach, soldiers fired into the air, to signal to the people that the new Duke had arrived. As the palace gates opened to reveal an assortment of noble men, servants and guards, they slowly began to gather around the carriage. An ancient looking man, draped in the most formal scarlet cloak approached the head of the carriage, and announced the Duke's arrival, “Our glorious leader, we welcome you to the great palace of Goya. It has housed the Jutvingas for generations, and it is our pleasure to host you during your coronation.” The carriage doors open, and Duke Zigmas takes his first
steps of what will soon become his home.
As Zigmas made his way to the great palace doors, the nobles examined him closely. For many it was their first time even seeing the new Duke, and they were not impressed. Whispers spread like plague among the nobility, as everyone nit picked almost every and all aspect of the king. From his scarred hands, deformed nose and plump stomach, nothing was spared, and soon enough the Duke's very own guards were spreading rumors among themselves. This intended celebration soon became a festival of rumors and schemes, the Duke himself even growing nervous as the nobles began to further gaze at him, no longer fearing him. In an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere Zigmas requested that the coronation should be rushed, and the convoy of Bishops and priests agreed. Guards soon assured the nobles into the palace chapel, to await the arrival of Pope Soren.
The chapel had been packed fully. No chairs or empty corners remained unoccupied. Camera men stood by attempting to position themselves to capture the first real photos of the soon to be Duke Zigmas. The group of Bishops situated around the head of the Chapel, whispered among themselves, attempting to figure out why the pope had taken so long to arrive, “Did he get stopped by the guards ? Could the Remonas have something to do with it ?” they thought to themselves, before the guards assured them of their positions. As the loud blaring of accordions filled the room, Zigmas made his way down the ancient carpet. It was stained in the footprints of multiple generations, and he felt immense pride being able to walk upon it. As he approached Pope Soren, his eyes visibly twitched, and the paste at which he walked became ever slower. Nevertheless he continued to walk. Once he reached the altar, the various instruments died down, giving way for the harsh voice of Soren. “Today we gathered to coordinate a new Duke. Through the word of god alone they conquered all of Aestia and united us through their sheer power and might . I crown thee Zigmas as Duke Of Aestia and Earl of the Goyas.” Soren places the crown upon Zigmas’s head as the sound of horns echoes across the chapel. The guards salute and the nobles let out an endless applause. A slight tear fell from the newly crowned Duke, for he knew the upcoming year would be hell…
The Aestian throne remains filled once more, time only tells for how long...
June 1st, 1940
Collab between Arcadisia and Miklozia
Charles and a few others rushed the man into the building as they sought to try and save him.
"Crud, those blasted Miklozians turned on us..." Charles muttered. He placed the man in the room and waited for the others to come by.
"Sir, sir!" The rebel soldier was hot on his heels, rushing in right later. "So, as I was saying...what creek?" Charles sighed.
"It's uh...not really a creek." He pointed North, and then whispered into his ear. "Wanggeomseong, Blue Creeks Street."
"How's anyone supposed to find that out?" asked the soldier.
"Exactly." Charles pointed at him, then went back to try and nurse the man. The other soldier knelt down and looked at the man.
"Oh, that looks bad..." He sighed. Charles looked at him.
"No news from the turncoats?"
"Not yet." They looked at the dying man. "They said they'd be here in a short matter of time..." The others clamored as they looked upon a young medical student who was trying his best to patch up the old man.
Eisen walked out from his work in the back of the building they had pulled him into, rubbing his eyes. He looked at Charles and the others. He wore what could be presumed was a fairly expensive suit.
"Uhm... did I pick a bad time?-"
"A Calarimian? I thought they'd all left." A random civilian whispered to his friend.
"I know. We should get out of here, this is definitely bad news." he whispered. "Ah, no sir! We're so sorry, we'll head out of here. Come on." He motioned to the medical student, to get the old man and his operation elsewhere.
"Wait, hold on." He eyed the injured man. "I'll be right back. I think I might have some supplies around here..."
"Supplies?" The people continued to whisper among each other. "Is he planning to toy with us or something?"
"Trying to trick us in like that...what does he take us Arcadisians for -"
"Everyone shut up." said the medical student, finally. "Even if he is just trying to trick us, we don't have much of a choice beyond trusting him. It's that or die anyways." He looked at the man, who was walking away. "Thank you sir!" he shouted after him. "Let's hope he's on our side." he muttered to himself. Everyone fell silent.
"Alright! I'll be just a moment."
He rushed into the back once more. A few moments passed... a few more...
Eventually, he returned with a box. "Alright, thank you for your patience!" He walked over and set it down, inside was necessary supplies for treatment aswell as extra. "I'm sorry if it's not enough, but I do try..."
"It's ok sir." He med student grabbed the supplies and started applying them. "Normally we'd be lucky to get treatment half this good. I'm Min Suk Jong, but I go by Matsumoto Sora at my school. Your name, sir?"
"Eisen Totoya. I own this building along with it's contents." He did the polite bow, which was unheard of toward an Arcadisian.
The others looked at him, almost in shock, but Suk Jong accepted it, and lowered his head at the man.
"Thank you sir." He finished patching up the man and nodded. "That should keep him alive for...maybe a few days. I don't know, I don't know the full extent of the damage without having to open him up, and I can't do that in an environment which hasn't been fully sterilized. Might be hard to do so, unless we can get to a hospital." He looked out. "Or my old university." Outside, there were yells as people ran by. "But I can't say it's safe outside..."
"...You, I need you to do something for me. Tell people that there is refuge inside, I may not have alot but i'm willing to give it all if it means saving lives."
He looked outside.
"I think I may be able to make it to the hospital or the school, im Calarimian. They kill me and they risk antagonizing the nation."
Everyone fell silent. He was actually helping them? Charles stepped in, hie eyes lighting up.
"You're a medical student going by the name Matsumoto Sora. As long as Mr. Toyota leads the way, no one will suspect that you even are an Arcadisian." He looked at Eisen. "Does that...sound like a plan?" He looked around. "I'll go out and tell people. No..." he grabbed Ellie and the other soldier. "We'll go out. We're all part of a transportation company. We're tough, I think we can quickly reach parts of the city and get them together rapidly." The three smiled, one after the other.
He nodded. "Alright, come with me then." He'd walk to the door, opening it and peaking out. He nodded again, to himself this time. "Should be clear..." He exited the building, waiting on the student.
Captain Tom — Yesterday at 11:07 PM
As the two progressed through the empty streets of Asadal, they only found company in the distant screams and gunshots heard across the ghost town. Although Ostfeld had ordered the city to die through starving-out, it was clear that he had no issue with more conventional ways of demise.
"Stop!" One of two privates yelled, their bright flashlights spilling over the two. "You're past curfew!" They said, cocking their guns, ready to kill.
"We are Calarimian, don't shoot!" Eisen, in a panic, raised his hands. He clearly had wealth, more then anyone left in Asdal that was native to the city.
'Matsumoto' raised his hands as well.
"We're not Arcadisian, we can verify that. I have an ID."
One of the privates grabbed Matsumoto's ID, not understanding a word of it, as it was in Calarimian, but looking it over with a half-serious face nonetheless. "Calarimian? Arcadisian? They all look the same to me." The private muttered to his comrade.
"The difference is you shoot enough Arcadisians, and they give you a medal." The other private said, "Shoot a Calarimian, and they court-martial you and send you to the Matsrakian Front."
The private looked toward his fellow soldier more seriously. "And miss out on the brothels here? No way. Screw a Matsrak and people give you bad looks." He said, half-joking, "besides, I'm not cut out for that SA-crap. Alright, go ahead." He said, allowing the man's papers to fall to the floor and moving out of the way, holstering their guns on their backs.
Min picked up the ID as the soldiers were out of earshot.
"Well, I guess that worked." He looked out. "Yeah...I guess that did."
He sighed in relief. "Whew. That could've gone poorly. All the more reason to hurry I suppose, let us not lose time."
"Right. It's just around the corner though, so I think we should be good. There's a truck we could use to transport the equipment. We might need more of it too, since I have no doubt there will be a lot more wounded people."
"A truck... Alright. You get the supplies and i'll get the truck ready to go." He said, nodding to himself.
"Got it." Min ran into the school, where he ran into a bunch of cowering students. "Everyone! Help me load the medical equipment onto that truck!" he said, pointing outside. Several Miklozian soldiers were seen in the distance, heading for the school. "And follow me if you want to live!" They began carting out the surgery equipment.
The truck, with the Calarimian, sat. Sweat went down his face as he tried to calm himself. His nerves were killing him. "Come on, just a little more..."
"I brought some, uh, friends along." Said Min as he looked at the others. He tried to see if there was enough room for everyone to fit in alongside the tech. Just...just enough. "Alright, let's go."
He nodded, and began the journey back to his place. He wipped his face from the sweat that had been going.
"Whew, I can't believe we managed this..."
"A little fast for that." Min looked around. "We've still got a ways to go." He looked at the other students, some of whom were cowering in the tarp alongside the machines. "Everyone here got your IDs just in case?"
"Well, let me be optimistic, heh..." He took a turn, on edge. Watching for any Miklozians that would stop them.
"Looks like we didn't need the IDs, heh." a student said as they reached the post office. They unloaded and began putting the machines into the buildings.
"A question. Is anyone here a medical student?" One of the students raised his hand. "Good. I'll need you in a sec."
He assisted in bringing in supplies, before sitting down. Yes, he had done a good thing today. He could allow himself a small break.
Lieutenant Ernst Host gazed out toward the large Calarimian post office building, a pool of light in the now-complete darkness after curfew. His eyes narrowed as his hatred overtook his expression. "What should we do, lieutenant?" A private said from his side.
"The Governor-General must be told of this." Ernst said, before turning and beginning off, a Tiger following at a snail's pace beside him.
"Lieutenant Host." Ostfeld said as the man heil'd Boross from the door of his office. The General was stood in front of the map of the city, studying it like a battle map. "You've been wanting to see me?"
The young lieutenant swallowed, and responded: "Yes, sir." He said, edging forward a bit. "It seems that a Calarimian by the name of Eisen Totoya is granting refuge and supplies to Arcadisians within the Asadal Imperial Post Office." Ostfeld remained silent, his eyes glazing over the map quickly, before settling, finding the old post office. "By my estimate, he has a few hundred to a thousand refugees inside."
Ostfeld clenched his fists, before turning toward the man. "You're telling me that my cleansing of this city is being thwarted by a mailman!?" At once, the General brought a dagger from his side and thrust it into the post office on the map. "Fine..." He said, walking forward and grabbing the lieutenant by the shoulder. "I will deal with this parasite myself." Before he turned toward the door and began off, beckoning soldiers to follow him.
Ministry for International Affairs
Wientemn Har, Secretary of State Josiah Willingwood, President Hans JF Rowzer amongst other politicians and military commanders were meeting over a current dilemma. Miklozia was now making his way through all his neighboring countries. Those who stood against them were promptly destroyed. Like Mozaka, Hans was worried. As his predecessor was about NWO uprisings. It seems to run in the throne. "What if they turn their attention towards us?" General Jamie Harding leant forward and circled his finger around Iserk. "I'd be more concerned if Boross were to turn his attention into Authrasia altogether. None of Authrasia's armies with the exception of ours are ready to combat the lethal machine of Miklozia." The room burst into conversation, Jamie was pointing to places on the maps where the four main armies were located. Hans called for silence and he waited for the room to calm down. "Jamie, is it possible to move the four armies away from the border with The Dynasties as Calarim has now surrendered?" Jamie looked at one of his commanders, "Yes, it is possible, but I advise leaving one highly mobile unit ready to move in case an attack does come from the southwest. The rest of the groups can move to the border with the Miklozian colony." Josiah Willingwood held up his hand, "Now now, we don't want to show Jan Boross aggression, if he feels Miklozia is threatened and it won't be long until we find Miklozian warships in Iserkian waters." One of the commanders said "Fine, we just move the armies a little bit away from the border, the only problem with that being that they would have moved through enough territory to sustain themselves." Hans nodded while staring at the lines separating Capital District and Anvictus District. "If they arrive at the capital district borders then their large guns will be in range of the city. I think we should move the border of the District so the Royal Guard can support the army if required." Josiah looked at him, "You know the consequences." Jamie looked up, "What are you saying?" Hans sighed; "There has been some words going around of a coup being planned against us..." Jamie interrupted before he could finish "Why the hell didn't you tell us then, we could have taken him out before the rumors spread." Hans held up his hand, "Yes, but this is only a rumor we do not know for sure. Iserk is a shining beam of democracy in a world full of Tyrants... Alright, moving on, General, you move two armies away from the border and into the new expanded border of the Capital District. The border will be shifted, but make sure it does not go through any towns. Understood!" The whole room shouted in unison "Yes Sir!" before the meeting disbanded. Hans and Josiah left the room last, "Some people will loose their minds after this."
"Not like they had minds in the first place." Josiah looked at Hans, "You are going to lose elections." Hans nodded and walked of, he had forgotten about elections, a month from now votes will be counted and he was in a big position to lose the vote. At least he would be able to hold onto the senate, barley yes, but still the senate. This means that his party will still be able to hold power and Josiah will still be Secretary of State as the senate majority holds or shares the vital role. He looked outside to see propaganda posters up from various other parties. UNF never did this, that's what set them apart from the rest, they make their promises and leave it at that. In a simple country like Iserk, that can make all the difference. Unlike most others that have been in power, the UNF has delivered on it's promises. Most of them anyway. Hans made lead to his office. Ignoring the stacks of paper on his desk he picked up the paper on his desk and began reading through it. A title that read Local Mayor says Hans is not enough leapt out at his face. "Hans JF Rowzer, our 3rd president has failed us according to one man who just happens to be the Mayor of Ortha. According to Enthail Meritious the current cabinet, mostly made out of Greogory von Istrovich's cabinet has spent to much money on the military and are doing nothing with them. They predicted war, They told us war was coming. By this time Calarim has surrenderd and they still REFUSE to pull down the funding. Hans put the paper down and went to his desk and to the large stacks of reports. He opened the first one and began his writing.
It was the end of a long day, Hans was tired, he had to deal with officials from South Capital Control Zone which were worried about the Mayor who wanted to "Commit War-crimes" according to them. This was also the time when he realised the public still thought that the State Borders were the same when the crown was in control and Ortha City was not in Ortha State. So he had to replan the entire map and release it to schools. This had drained Hans and his Secretary of State who said he will not be coming for beer at the pub because his wife was mad at him for coming home late. Han understood, he remembered his own wife getting irritated when he came home late. Hans got into his car, and began his drive home.
Naval Headquarters - Dacton
Admiral JS Cassidy looked at Jamie, "I can't do that." Jamie shook his head, "No no, you have to, what if these rumours, they have truth behind them..."
"And what if they don't? Then what, we'll be tried for mutiny!"
"I am almost sure that these rumors are true."
"You have been certain before,"
"But I am dead certain now." THe Admiral shook his head, "Fine, Fine, but only out of my respect towards you." Jamie added "Also one more thing, if this does happen, then I will have to go with Hans to wherever he goes. That means it is either you or the Colonel left in charge. If you can, take the reins." The Admiral nodded and walked of, the next thing, 90 out of the 120 ships in the Iserkian navy were making there way to Reunion City, a UNF stronghold. Including the brand new classes of Dacton, Sierra and Orion.
A king and a drunkard
9th July 1940
That night, Sultan Ihsan went out alone in disguise, patrolling. Suddenly during his patrol he saw the light of a lamp from a house. The Sultan then stopped in front of the door of the house to hear something. He saw a skinny looking man drinking wine along with a group of his friends, through a small hole. The Sultan was fierce to know that they are drinking WINE, which are banned in the sultanate. He then tried to entered the door, but was unsuccessful because it was locked. So he climbed the wall of the house and went down to his yard while carrying a whip. When those people saw him, they kept rushing to open the door and ran away, but Ihsan managed to capture the man. He, who eventually became the host said: "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I pleaded guilty and now I repent and promise I will not repeat this sin again. Please, accept my repentance! "
Ihsan replied: "I will whip you in return for your iniquity. "
The man appealed again by saying: "Your Majestyl! If I have made one mistake, then you have made three mistake. God's command: ' Do not spy ', but you spy. God's command: 'Enter the houses of the people by the doors', your majesty enters by climbing walls and jumping from the roof. God's command, 'O believers! Do not enter houses that are not your house, unless you first ask permission and greet the host ', but your majesty entered without greeting. So we are together guilty. And I confess now wanting to repent and promise not to repeat it again. "
He laughed and released him. Ihsan who was known for his politeness and justiceness just accepted the excuses well and he told the man to sincerely repent and forgive his sins as well.
Arcadisia and Federation of yugoslavia
Thunder in the Jungle. - Collab with Calarim
Coasts off of Indo-Authrasia.
August 2nd, 1940.
A few days following the combat engaged in by the 3rd Fleet, the 2nd Fleet sailed off for Indo-Authrasia. Phase 2 of the plan to claim the Magellic from Aucreasons had begun. In contrast to the other fleets, they had no ships of the new Yukio Class, Carriers, or Submarines. The fleet was entirely surface based and without 18 inch guns. Led by the ever cautious Wakata Moromao, the fleet had orders to destroy any Mozakan naval units in the area to make room for transports to land. He stood aboard the flagship, the ICN Ryosei which was a Kioku class battleship. The only one of it's class present. His eyes looked through binoculars as he awaited his foe.
Upon the other the end of those binoculars lay the capital prized vessel, the Lemare Carrier, a pre-war ship which had successfully defended Mozakan clay, though didn’t have many upgrades for its Great War ship. Admiral De Jouire stood upon to the front of it, catching the sight of the empires ships, glazed in the flag. A smile came to the young admiral, who ushered less senior officers to take a look. A smile came to their faces as well.
“Men, our prey is spotted” He spoke in a classed accent, still keeping his eyes on the prize itself. “Man the guns and prepare for assault. Radio the other ships for full attack”. He ordered the remaining ships of the Mozaka 1st Fleet to enter full assault, as the admiral took his eyes off the calarim ship, seemingly alone in the area. The ships began their advance, as the admiral made his way to the manning area, with officers arranged beside him in combat.
As the Mozakan fleet closed in, the smoke from the fleet rose into the sky. It was not a lone battleship, no it was a modern, entire Calarimian fleet with the exception being the Anzai class. Destroyers formed a screen around the battleships and cruisers, as the Heavies and Lights provided escort. The Admiral ordered the fleet to assume battle positions, the destroyers steaming ahead at full speed. The Battleships formed up in line, raising their guns. Cruisers moved clear of the line of fire.
"Mozakan Fleet bearing 243. Elevation is 4 degrees. Fire at will."
Shock came to the admirals eyes, a brutal mistake had been made, but it was too late. As the ships continued their advance, several cruisers took a drastic turn to the right, attempting to attack through two different approaches. The cruiser ship prepared to the co-ordinates, attempting to fire upon the ships. Signing the more modern ships, admiral Classi of a dreadnought turned back in a way of survival. With no clear command, the majority of the ships prepared to fight to the death, only some directing back to the friendly ports.
“We fight till the death, boys. If we fall, we fall fighting, good luck boys” said the Admiral, as the co-ordinates to two light destroyers were prepared. A bloodbath was expected.
The battleships guns lit up in fire and powder as they sent broadsides screaming at the largest targets. Cruisers and Dreadnoughts. DDs fired off their light guns a few times at the larger ships before breaking to attack the flankers. Cruisers also began their much more frequent fire compared to the battleships, sending shells splashing and scattering around the enemy. The admiral watched his fleet engage, occasionally sending repositioning orders and the such. Shells richocheted off of the Calarimian Ships or inflicted minimal damage.
The Diere Cruiser had taken damage, heavy damage. Their engagement hadn’t been successful, as the ships more likely to survive had managed to remain floating, however, the diere cruiser was in a serious condition, with the boats engine damaged and guns not operational. Now a standing metal ship, the fire of the empire stood to it. Many of the sailors on board jumped, with quite a few seriously injured upon impact. In the heat of the moment, the other remaining cruisers were taking some damage as well, with the front of the vessel the most damaged to the Lemare Carrier and two other treaty cruisers receiving damage elsewhere. With the overall message to carry on fighting, a hope of further support was popular among those still operating, but the battle looked almost lost to this point.
The shells rolled into the battleship guns as they elevated once again. They made necessary aim adjustments and sent their broadsides flying. The destroyers let loose a spray of torpedoes at the cruiser forces, with the ICN's cruisers completely shifting focus onto them. The Battleships would handle the Dreadnoughts, surely.
The cruisers were stuck, no way in, no way out. Admirals were in a complete panic, and the dreadnoughts prepared a last ditch attack upon the enemy ships, they were too late. Many of the dreadnoughts had been heavily damaged through the suprior Calarim Navy, and with engine faulire and guns in a complete frenzy, the treaty carriers remained the only viable option to contiue the fight. As some of the saliors jumped off to avoid the inevitable sinking of the ships in the battle, no help was sounded. As panic arouse in the Mozakan Navy, with the radio's broken and no way of contact to other ships, support was unlikely. As the treaty carriers prepared their co-ordinartes, it was the navies last hope for victorty upon the wars. "Good luck boys" Said a petty-officer upon a local radio.
Light Destroyer Shells battered the Cruisers with High Explosive ordnance. The line of Battleships and Cruisers had ceased firing, their barrels red from use. Shells of 6 inch and lower whizzed and splashed, shattered and broke.
"All ships prepare to withdraw to port. The day has been won. The destroyers will mop up the enemy."
And with that order the massive battleships and average sized cruisers withdrew from combat, their smoke growing shorter and shorter as they cruised off at 12 knots.
As saliors jumped and jumped, admirals panicked of what to do. From the cruisers to the dreadnoughts, most were unusable. The call to carry on was a disaster, and with limited supplies elswhere, more ships coming through off fresh was unlikely. Moreover, admirals began clutching onto the ropes, demanding the life boats to come down. As the few lifboats did come down, only senior officers were allowed upon them, others only allowed to swim or find small peices of the remaining ships still operational to withdraw. Only a destoryer and two treaty cruisers remained operational and would attempt to save as amny as they could. Grasping them with ropes and other objects, they were saved, most of them. The ships unable to move were forced to face the likely struggle of a second wave of attacks, as the shouts and screams of saliors and officers drowning, one to another fighting to stay on to fine safety. It was a disaster, a naval disaster.
In collaboration with Miklozia
Descent into Embers
June 8th, 1940
The skies above Alcatz, Central Aucerosa
The pristine engine of the hydrogen-powered Magnanimous, the largest aircraft ever devised, powered through the thick clouds above the city toward the ground below. As it docked, stairs wheeling to connect its riders to the floor, its engine came to a screeching conclusion. From the door of the Airship came the Eternal Leader of Miklozia, Jan Boross, carefully walking down the flight and onto the ground below.
Standing at the bottom of the flight stood Emperor Mara I, flanked by 2 guards. Behind him stood President Shiem Sao, with the Chief of Army Iem Ain standing on his right. Mara was first to greet Boross as he reached the bottom.
"Mr. Boross, a pleasure to see you again. On behalf of the Mu'yan people may I be the first to congratulate you on your victories in the east. I believe that your New World Order shall be far more... Fruitful than the former UA."
Boross smiled upon seeing the empire, his wickedness present on his expression. "Well, the bar they set wasn't exactly high." He said, his smile transforming into a wicked laugh as soldiers spilled out from the same stairs Boross had descended down, surround him on his flanks. Boross drank in the three men, before speaking oncemore: "Did any of you hear Abercrombie's speech? That fool is living in his own delusions."
Mara chuckled slightly. "Abercrombie? The man speaks of the oppression of the Mu'yan people, but I can assure you that the Mu'yan people have never been freer." He glanced behind him towards Iem and Shiem. "Why, should we head inside? I had arranged for food to be prepared for your arriv-"
Iem quickly interrupted Mara before he could finish. "Hold on your highness. Mr. Boross, an honor to see you again sir." He looked up at the airship. "My, isn't that an impressive ship... I commend your people for their hard work on such a ship..." Mara scowled at Iem as he was looking up before quickly putting it away as Iem looked back down. "So... What brings you here today?"
"Indeed... The man is a disgrace to the continent. But I assure you, my bombers are working 24/7 to bomb his disgusting city into the ground."
Boross glanced back at Iem, before breaking into sudden laughter. "Hoho..." He said, collecting himself, "I'm afraid you're mistaken, General." He said, walking back and resting his hand on the man's shoulder. "It was your people who built this magnificent ship. Communist prisoners of war. We put them to good use, as you can see." He said, soaking in the Magnanimous in all of its technological splendor.
Iem stepped back, blindsided by the information and not fully sure what to say next. "Then, uhh, consider it a... Gift, from our people..." He regained his composure, but before he could speak, Mara had already begun to talk again. "Well then, perhaps I should start taking notes myself... Regardless, we should head inside before the food gets cold." He looked back at Iem and Shiem. "...And you two, you are free to return to your duties."
Iem quickly chimed in. "I'm sorry, but if the matter of his arrival is of military importance then I am obligated to stay." He looked back at Boross. "Speaking of, you never did get around to my question, so why are you here?"
"I will tell you..." Boross started, "Inside. If I go another moment without my cigar than I might just explode." He said, a playful smile on his face, though beneath his expression he was absolutely serious. "They don't let me smoke inside that thing, powered by hydrogen. A single click of a cigar," he clicked his gingers together to explain, "and the whole thing could go up." He then turned back to Mara. "Lead the way, majesty."
"Of course." The men walked into the building by the airport, where an improvised meeting room was prepared. Despite the improvisation, the room was well cleaned and prepared, with fresh food served on ornate platters and the food itself decorated nicely on a table in the side of the room. The table in the middle of the room was cleared and set for two, and despite the food being out there still sat menus on the tables so that a waiter can get the food for them. Mara took a seat while Iem stood by the back wall. Mara looked back towards Boross. "Please, take a seat."
Boross drank in the new room, his hand itching over his coat precariously. He glided forward and took a seat at the table, looking up to examine each and every morsel of food. His eyes darted from plate to plate, analyzing each dish in silent, before his hand reach into his coat and pulled from it a cigar, placing it between his lips and lighting. "Ahhhhh," he muttered, taking in the sweet tobacco. "now, to business, I think."
Mara raised a glass by him, and a waiter arrived and poured a glass of wine into his glass. Mara took a small drink before setting the glass back down. "To business indeed."
"So, as you know," Boross said, taking his cigar from his mouth and drowning down the taste of sweet tobacco with Mu'yan wine. Nowhere near the quality of the Miklozian brew, that was clear. "Our conquest of Mozaka was swift and now East Aucerosa is in the grasp of my United Empire. I stood over the tomb of Napoleon." He said, taking another drag from his cigar. "I couldn't help but imagine Aucerosa's last great conquer congratulating me on my great success."
"Why of course, there's no doubt that you are indeed the Napoleon of the 20th century; your conquests are a testament to that statement."
"But I will not repeat his mistakes..." Boross muttered, his mind picturing the Tsarina and her 'empire.' Kyivska would be his crown jewel, and with it an infinite workforce of slaves to work its vast oil fields. Reminding himself of his surroundings, the Eternal Leader cleared his throat. "Oh, where was I?" He said, "Yes, Mozaka. The territory of Solene on the coasts of Lake Tyran. I understand that there are many ethnic Mu'yans living there. I have come to offer it to your empire."
"My my, what a generous offer... and one that I'd be gladly willing to acc-"
Iem interrupted Mara again, and walked towards the table. "Pardon the interruption your Majesty, but with the current occupation of Kyivskan lands combined with the the threat of war from the other powers we couldn't handle such an occupat-"
"Silence!!" Mara's voice echoed in the room. He leaned over towards Boross and spoke in a somewhat hushed tone. "Don't listen to him, he has no voice on this, and whatever he thinks of this 'occupation' is frivolous. No, this will be a liberation of the Mu'yans living there, and whatever of the old order, I reckon they won't do plenty about it. Regardless, I'm wiling to accept your offer... But what sort of strings are attached?"
Boross glared toward Iem, his eyes narrowing in quiet scrutiny. "Excellent." He said to Mara, still turned toward Iem, the same expression remaining. "I've already signed the paper granting you the territory." He said, before turning to Mara, silence overcoming him. "If I may, can I request that we speak in private?"
A small grin appeared on Mara's face before turning over to Iem. "Alright Iem. Mr. Boross has requested that your presence leaves the room for the time being. If you may will you accept his request?"
Iem grabbed out his pocket watch and checked the time before putting it back away. "...Alright... If I'm needed, I'll be outside." He walked slowly out of the room, glancing at Mara as he went through the doorway. Mara turned back at Boross. "Now that he's finally out of the way, what did you need?"
Boross leaned in cooly against the table, an equally timid express slapped across his face. "Mara, I can't help but be deeply troubled..." He lowered his voice substantially, aware that Iem was still nearby: "by the fact that you have not yet seized absolute power from the General."
Mara let out a sinister chuckle. "Oh, him? Don't worry, while the man has for the most part been a... Nuisance, with his failures in Kyivska comes his failures in maintaining himself as the figure he once was. There was a time when he had absolute power over the military and significant public backing, only for both to slowly begin to die along with the men on the road to Chukchigrad." He leaned in towards the table. "I should know, I've been keeping touch with his most powerful ally. He's become a most... Disillusioned figure."
Boross's eyes narrowed at Mara in light of his laughter, his almost non-caring attitude disturbing the Miklozian Eternal Leader gravely. "Mara, you musn't be content!" He said, shaking his finger firmly in the Emperor's direction. "If Iem's position is as desperate as you say, your resolve should only be stronger." He took a drag from his cigar, sucking in the delightfully toxic juices. "With a desperate position will come desperate measures. Just look at what Iem did to the Socialists: he'll do the same to you if it means securing his position. You must eliminate him before he eliminates you."
"...And he will be eliminated. Soon, he'll have to make a choice, the question being that will he go down peacefully..." A grin crept across his face. "...Or will he betray everything he stands up for?" He began to chuckle again. "Either way, he's already lost... I just want to be there to see the look on his face when he realizes his little charade is over."
Boross's eyes narrowed further, and he descended into his own thoughts, the room falling silent for a minute as the Miklozian was consumed by his own machinations. At once, he burst into sudden, slow laughter, slapping his hand against the table before digging his cigar into a nearby ashtray. "Good seeing you again, Emperor. Enjoy your new territory!"
He quickly turned and began toward the door, stopping beside Iem as the door shut who, to his word, was stood in front of the door. Breathlessly, Boross leaned into the treacherous general's ear:
"Mara must be destroyed. You have my full support, General.
"Ciao!" The Eternal Leader declared suddenly, as his guards turned in unison and followed him toward the technological terror which was the Magnanimous.
Iem looked over at Boross as he walked towards the airship, the words "you have my full support, General" replaying in his head. Why, he thought to himself, would Boross want to upend the man he put in power here? He placed the thought into the back of his head and checked the time again. "Time..." He thought to himself again. "Time's running out."
Admiral JS Cassidy watched the city form into view. Behind him, 90 of the most powerful vessels of the Iserkian Navy were relocation to Reunion City Naval Base. The ships slowed as they approached the ports entrance. Two guns guarded the entrance to the secluded Naval Base. The first of the ships to enter was the IAV Dacton and her two sister ships IAV Anvictia and IAV Reunion. They were part of the aptly named Dacton class, the two newer classes, Sierra and Orion were yet to have more than one ship. Admiral JS Cassidy watched the mighty fleet slowly slip in to the Naval Port from the decks of the IAV General Mikail von Illon, the lone aircraft carrier of the Iserkian Navy. Her planes sat idle in the hold, the deck empty, for now. One of his most trusted aids, Rear Admiral Woudaugh Griffen, apprached him, "Sir, we took the three ships from the Dacton class but, the other second ship in the Sierra class was left behind." The Admiral turned to look at him, "I presume you are going to tell me that we left the Orion class behind." Woudaugh nodded, "Yes, the ship was close to completion, her name is the IAV Decadent, she is the only concern we might have. Her main power comes from speed, she can do a whole 2 knots faster than the Dacton and Slaughter classes." The Admiral nodded again, "Well, we have the aircraft carrier and the single submarine, the other one would not have been completed by the end of the year, all it would take is a good and well targeted strike from the carrier. Dismissed!" Woudaugh saluted and walked away along the deck of the carrier. He spied Weitfeld Kaan, the Captain of Dacton oversee some shells being placed on the ports. Over the other side, Naval Officials talked with Air Force Commanders about using planes to assist the planes on the Carrier. The naval base extended outwards on both sides, Sailors manning the defense artillery on the grounds. Closing in to the center the base circulated two arms forward about 500 meters apart. Inside the circle, wharfs extended out to meet the ships that would take up the spaces on both sides of the arms. Lights, bright and dim, bathed the base in bright light. On a foggy day, the first thing a lost soul would see is the powerful lights. The entire base front part of the base was elevated 25 meters of the sea floor. The walls were made out of bound iron which cost the iron abundant mines tons of the stuff. Behind the base, mountains rose high into the sky, shadowing the squat buildings at their bases. There were plans to expand the base into and up the mountains but so far, Iserk did not have the recourses to achieve such a feat. The last ship to enter was the IAV General Mikail von Illon, he was guided into a snug space at the dead center of the arms and base that was designed specifically for carriers. The base was relatively young and part of the UNF's military expansion plan so parts of it were not done, Cassidy could see workers erecting support beams on the West Wing and placing strengthening beams beside a cruiser dock. When completed, the base would be the first fully operational dedicated Naval Base in Iserk's history. Previously combat vessels had to dock at either Dacton or Reunion port. Which was not ideal as civilian ships were endangered by badly aimed enemy canons and now, airstrikes. Now, civilians were protected and the Navy had a tactical advantage. The carrier bumped against the floats and gangways were extended to allow the crew to disembark. The Admiral departed the ship knowing Woudaugh had things sorted. He approached a burly man with a thin mustache, "Expect a plane carrying General Jamie Harding to land soon. He wants to talk to be about this transfer." The thin mustache spoke, "Is it anything to do with the rumours, if it is, I am on your side just to clear that up. The mayor at that place is a real piece of work. I went to school with the guy, he was a total and complete bully. Always escaped the teachers." The Admiral nodded, "Good to know." And walked of. He approached the main buildings and looked out towards the water. The terminals were brighter than usual as the ships light added to the already blinding seer of the Terminal lights. He walked the rest of the way to his room. However, he would not be sleeping in it, he wanted to stay out on the ship in case someone attacked. Consistent flashes of light shone over a mountain as a convoy of military trucks brought coal and diesel for the ships.
Hans JF Rowzer heard the news of the relocation, Josiah and his cabinet asked him what the navy were up to. He told them he had no idea, he also said he would contact them. He suspected Josiah knew exactly what they were doing, and by the way he was looking at him, Hans knew that he knew that Hans knew what they were doing. Hans later pulled Willing wood aside, "This goes out to no one ok, we have no records of it, we can ask the navy to destroy it if things go bad." Josiah nodded, "Sometimes I wonder what would happen if the UNF were out of power,"
"Well I guess we're about to find out." Hans and Josiah parted, they made there way back to their offices to deal with the onslaught of politicians, lawyers, police chiefs and district representatives. Hans made his way to the office, outside waiting impatiently, was Enthail Meritious. "Enthail, how long has it been?"
"Don't waste my time!" Hans pretended to look offended "Waste your time, Ortha has a population of 300,000. Most of whom, don't seem to like you that much. So about 50,000 supporters. Iserk has 21 million people inside, most of whom seem to like me, that's about 19 million supporters. 19 million to keep happy. So please, tell me how busy you are." Enthail scowled, "I need to talk to you." Hans opened the door to let Enthail in, he rudely pushed pas Hans. Hans sat behind the desk. Hans's chair was a highback, which allowed him to stay lean and straight. Enthail's was a simple armchair, the cushion sank deeply. Enthail leant forward, "Make this easy, just resign." Hans smiled, "And why should I do such a thing."
"Because you failed us."
"In what way?"
"That is not a legitimate answer."
"Like your policies." Hans cocked his head and Enthail continued "You say the economies grown, jobless have fallen, standards have improved, but I see your lies, have you seen the state of Ortha." Hans put his hand up to stop him, but Enthail kept going and it took a death glare to shut him up. "It seems, Ortha's state fell after you came into power." Enthail's burned a deep flaring red, "What? You dare accuse me, accuse me!" Enthail was shouting now. Two guards walked in batons drawn and they dragged probably the most irritating Mayor in the history of the world out screaming. He knew that would a be a blow in the supporters. However, the threat to Iserk's democracy does not come from the pompous mayor. It came from a force from below. Below the stringent policing, below the eyes of the Admirals, Generals and Commanders, and more importantly, Below the eyes of the people.
The Call of Duty
Irihapeti and her family stood in front of the door to the Nekonata household. She felt slightly anxious, she had rarely ever talked with Alfredo without La Granda Prezidanto being there to make the conversation and break the ice, let alone talk with him in a somewhat casual sense.
She looked to Esoso, looking apprehensive himself. She quickly rushed through her mind on what Esoso could say to make conversation with Alfredo's two daughter’s Fajra and...Avida? She was unsure what the oldest daughter's name was...even if she was the youngest...was Fajra even one of their names.
She only became more anxious the more thought about.
She could feel Otikoro squeeze her hand gently, she looked at him and he smiled softly. It was clear just by looking at him he was trying to make her feel more calm. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It wasn't long before a teenage girl opened the door, who called to the rest of her family and announced ‘their guests had arrived’.
The girl turned back to Irihapeti, she had a bright smile and greeted the three of them. Irihapeti thought hard and anxiously about which daughter this could be…”Its a pleasure to you…Avida?” She did her best to sound more confident though it was no use, despite the teenager contoured to smile. “Please call me Avi, the only person who calls Avida is-”
Suddenly from behind her emerged Alfredo and interrupted her “Welcome to the Pihopa family! Avida hurry and let our guests in!”
The man appeared jovial and ecstatic to see his guests as he gestured for them to come in. They were guided by him into the living room, where his wife and younger stood and greeted them. “Mrs Pihopa, this is my wife Migdala. And my dear, this is Irihapeti Pihopa.”. The two women greeted each other properly as Alfredo and Otikoro greeted each other. Alfredo then turned to Esoso, “This young gentleman must be Esoso, your mother has said plenty about, all over it good I swear. I believe you have met my eldest daughter Avida and this is my youngest daughter Fajra. Say hello to him Fajra.”.
Both Fajra and Esoso looked slightly uncomfortable by being thrusted into meeting and greeting each other by Alfredo. Though Irihapeti felt relieved that she had remembered the two names correctly, she was more pleased that Esoso had been forced out of shell.
“Before we begin the meal, I need to have a quick work with my fellow Vice President of official state matters before we begin. Something I'm sure you would all would prefer if we did so in private.”. Irihapeti could see both Alfredo’s wife and Otikoro react with humour to his statement, as he gestured for Irihapeti to follow him she could hear Alfredo’s wife remark that they had fresh fruit, coffee and rum. As she followed him through into his office, she couldn't help but feel familiar with the layout of the room. Desk back against the window, cabinets tucked into the corner left of the door and even the spare guest chair on the right, it was almost identical to La Granda Prezidanto’s office.
“Please pull the chair closer if you wish Irihapeti, its not glued to the floor” he remarked in a more serious tone. As she pulled it closer to the desk she could see Alfredo ready cigars for the two of them, as she sat down he handed her one of the cigars as he took a deep breath of the cigars and inhaled it, very poor for one's health.
“Listen Irihapeti, I wouldn't have dreamed to spoil this evening with some bad news, so I hope you can appreciate the gravity of the situation. Reports have come in from Magna Kalonia, the Miklozians have started a large-scale bombing campaign...a seemingly indiscriminate one at that.”. Irihapeti’s heart sank, all those lives snuffed out… “The reports have failed to confirm the dead. With this troubling news, the armed forces will be placed on a high alert and measurements will be put in place to deal with any potential sea or air threat.”
She could hardly believe it, the increased readiness of the nation for the potential of war...she truly doubted it could happen. Though she remembered the sudden declaration of war on Kalavir by Klepia, the world was seemingly plunging itself into fire and brimstone. Then all aspects of the world fell into the back of her mind, she then worried about the safety of Otikoro and Esoso, then the people at home, then the people she teached, then the whole nation. She felt like crying as she placed the cigar into an ashtray and let her head collapse into her hands. “I can’t- I don’t- I won’t-” she struggled to find words, she didn't know any courses of action let alone the potential correct one. She looked up to see Alfredo’s face filled with pity, she could tell he expected her reaction.
“While we dont expect for the war to reach us, especially with how Caloy looks over to us...La Granda Prezidanto wishes to make a hefty amount of precautions. Oceascopia’s active defense of neutrality worked before, so there is no reason to think it won’t again.”. He tried to reassure her that the war wouldn't come to the islands, the fear and anxiety of even the idea made her feel awful and sick. “Alfredo...how can one calm themselves and accept the fact thousands could die under their protector?” He let out a single soft laugh, “You sound like my father, it was the one thing he wouldn't criticise Sovaĝa on, nor would I back in my youth. Sovaĝa may have been a short sighted idiot on the economy and that moronic ‘postcard of the world’ plan shows it...Yet when it came to the Great War he insisted on the military being active during the war. My father admired Sovaĝa’s commitment to the defense of the nation and the avoidance of bloodshed, what did my father use to say?”
He turned his head at the picture of his father, thinking of his fathers wise words.
“Ah yes. If a leader is willing to put his people in front of him, then he is not fit to lead.”
He turned back to face Irihapeti, “The old man was very adamant about that. So Irihapeti, while I know how many calm themselves and I know how me and my father did.” He points to a decanter of rum and then remarked about the cigar, “Many people find different ways to calm themselves, and as a protector...you should never downplay the fact should thousands die their blood won’t be on your hands, as you will have done everything in your power to save them beforehand. We as leaders, alongside our armed forces must be willing to put ourselves in front of our people. In times of war that is our call of duty”.
Irihapeti did her best to agree with Alfredo, it brought a small amount of ease to her mind, the two finished their cigars in an awkward silence. She was unsure what to talk about, she thought about talking Alfredo’s father, a former Prezidanto yet she knew little about him.
Once the two finished their cigars, Alfredo stopped her before she could exit the room. “Remember Irihaepti, the announcement of the highetinened readiness will be tomorrow, so for the time let us avoid bringing it up and prevent it from making our attitudes sour. There may be storms and chaos over Aucerosa, but over Oceascopia there's only sunshine and calmness until tomorrow.”.
She nodded, the last she would want to do would make everyone anxious. The two stepped out of the door with smiles plastered on their face, doing their best to put up a charade of tranquillity.
Colab post between Aestias and Oceascopia
Treaty of Shudas
August 5th, 1940
Irihapeti watched as the boat gracefully moved through the canals of the city of Goya, she was amazed by everything she saw.
She often dismissed the idea that the cities of the old world were somehow a ‘superior’ form then what could be found anywhere else, as the boats winded around the bends of the river a new impressive structure appeared. Churches and other luxurious buildings all put the Presidential palace in Orasablo and Bey-Seye to shame.
She was given the brief by La Granda Prezidanto, he called it the oldest city in the nation, she would call it a beacon to the old world itself. She held the two boxes as tight as she could while she waited for the boat to dock, the last thing she wanted to do was to make this journey all for nothing and waste time she could be spending back home with her family and readying the nation.
As she stepped off the boat she was greeted by a slender man, with blue eyes. She wished to shake his hand but found it difficult to balance the two boxes in one hand. The slender man spoke to her, "Greetings traveller, we have heard of your arrival and we have been looking forward to it for quite some time. We welcome you to the great Nation of Aestia. Do not worry about your luggage, the guards will take care of It."
He signals to a guard, who proceeds to take Irihapeti’s belongings.
"Let me introduce myself. I am Silas Krough, although I'm sure you've heard of me before. We will be heading for the Iron Palace, there you will be able to have an audience with the king to discuss the purchase of Shudas. Follow me please, the walk to the tram station is not too long.".
She tanked Krough and the guards, before they could depart she was adamant to try and shake his hand, as such she enthusiastically threw out her left hand. “Greetings Senor Krough, I am Irihapeti Pihopa, Vice President Representative of Klerepon and the First People”.
Silas looked down at Irihapeti’s outstretched arm. “Sorry but my hand doesn't exactly have much of a grip.” He pulled out his left hand to reveal that it was missing both his pinky and ring finger. “Maybe my right hand will do ?” He chuckled.
She quickly snapped her left arm back, feeling incredibly awkward. She put her right arm out instead waiting for the shake. He shook her hand, though she knew it was a limp handshake at best.
They then moved on to the Iron Palace via the tram, while on the train Irihapeti could;nt help but worry about so much. The war, people back home and her botched handshake attempt...she felt she was doing the wrong thing, she struggled to listen to Krough as her inner voice and his overlapped and interrupted each other.
Krough called attention to The Bridges of Goya, a collection of large stones and and wooden boards that once formed a long bridge connecting the two nearby islands. She had seen the ruins of this bridge, she found it odd that one of their most treasured landmarks would one that had fallen into decay and ruin. Soon they reached the Iron Palace, Irahapeti, Krough and the guards disembarked, she was quick to take the two boxes off the guards in order to present them to the Duke.
They were escorted through the Iron Palace to the room where the meeting was taking place, as she looked around she could see the similarities of the Presidential Palaces of Orasablo and Bey-Seye to this palace. They soon entered a room, already waiting in the room was a tall and bulky man wearing a crown and what looked to be armour. She was certain this was the Duke.
“Greetings Irahapeti of Oceascopia. Your visit has been highly anticipated… Shall we get to it ?
They proceed to enter an even larger room, with a large seat in its centre that was most likely the throne room.
“For quite some time the Island of Shudas has been a handicap to the state. Do not get me wrong, it's a wonderful slice of prisoner paradise, but for as long as we had it we have been trying to get rid of it. Some long forgotten Duke colonised the land decades ago, in the hopes of finding something valuable. Alas his attempts to make the Island useful were futile and the only thing we got out of it is the occasional export of fish that barely covered the costs of maintaining such a colony.This is why it brings me much joy that we can hand over this land to people who can put it to use. I'm sure that your “President” can make great use of it, or at least greater use of it then us.
The Duke points towards an ancient piece of paper on a desk.
“This is the Creed of Narsias, which was the original name of the colony. Now that the land is no longer ours, the Creed of Narsias now belongs to the government of Oceascopia and as such “symbolically” recognises the Island as a part of your nation. We assure you to take it back to Oceascopia as our people are quite fond of relics like these.
The Duke then points to another piece of paper, in much fairer condition.
“This however is the Treaty of Shudas, and dictates that all land in the formal Aestian colony of Shudas is to be transferred to the nation of Oceascopia.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you Duke, thank you for the invitation to the city. Yes, I am sure La Granda Prezidanto’s plans for the islands that should hopefully improve its development.”
She handed the two boxes back to the guards, she was to point out which one was the box of cigars and the box of rum.
“In accordance with the initial payment, these are the boxes of rum and cigars, intended for you Duke.” Irihapeti picks up a pen, before signing the treaty she has a re-read to ensure everything is in order, it seemed to be. She signs her name at the bottom where indicated. “I believe that is everything.”
The duke signs the paper before responding.
“Yes, that is indeed all. I'd love to speak further but sadly I am needed back in the great palace. Silas will escort you to your temporary residence. I do hope your remaining stay with us will be quite memorable, and I simply can't wait to try one of these infamous cigars.”.
Before leaving Irahapti ensures that he will enjoy the cigars before leaving to her temporary residence.
Yanes’s Office, June 1940
Yanes spun around in his chair thinking about the war in Aucerosa and how lucky Baja Formosa was to not be stuck in another war. The Republic had enjoyed relatively good stability since the revolution against the student directorate. The economy was once again on track and the country had been moving more towards democracy. Yanes stopped spinning in his chair and remembered how the country was moving more towards democracy. He then remembered how there was an election coming up in the coming days. He had never had to deal with elections because of the fact he was a dictator for over 4 years. The people wanted a fresh start after the student’s rule and revolution after revolution.
Someone knocked on his door which Yanes responded with, “Enter.”
The person turned out to be his aide who told him that the draft for his speech for the upcoming election was finished and needed to be edited by him now. Yanes took the paper from her hands and began skimming through the work.
“This is very good. Now if you excuse me, I have work to do.” Yanes said.
“Yes, sir.” She turned around and headed out the door.
Yanes threw the paper to the side of his desk and continued to spin in his chair deciding he’d just use the draft. His mind moved to the election and he remembered the Progressive, Ferdinand Alvaréz was his opponent in the election and had gained a significant amount of popularity in the past year with all his speeches about modernizing the economy to more industrial levels, advancing healthcare and limiting the church’s power. He knew that the population wanted a fresh start and would most likely elect Alvaréz so Yanes decided to hire a team of people to help him make the results proper. He got up to leave the room and find the team.
Yanes walked out on his palace’s balcony where he’d be giving his speech. He waved to the crowd who clapped their hands. He began his speech
“My friends! My people! Welcome to the golden age of prosperity for every livingBaja Formosan! It was your trust that made it possible - your trust in me, El Presidente!"
"My Baja Formosans, my people, my... children. Your prosperity is my honor! Your solidarity is my faith! And I gratefully accept your love. You are my Baja Formosa!"
"Baja Formosa. Some call it the valley of the shadow of despair, but to me it is the valley of the shadow of my home! Our spirits cannot be broken! So rise, oh Baja Formosa, and despair no more!"
"Baja Formosa. My beloved homeland. My adoring people...! With sorrow, I have watched you toil. But have faith in me - El Presidente! - and your troubles will soon be over!"
"My friends, you are the dedicated ones, for whom no hardship is too great! True Baja Formosans! Your tribulations shall be rewarded... with just a little more effort!
And what of my people? I feel your pain when your walls shudder and your roofs leak - those of you who have roofs. But soon? Roofs for all, and walls for many!"
And as we strive, our efforts are protected by our brave Baja Formosan army! Our fighting men and women give no quarter, and neither do our soldiers!
What can you look forward to in years to come? Better housing! Slantier roofs, straighter walls, more transparent windows - the Baja Formosan house of tomorrow is built with standards!
And remember, My love of my people is my sword and my shield! Rebels? Ptui! To rebel against El Presidente is to rebel against love itself! And you saw where that got them.
Vote Yanes for a better tomorrow! Viva Baja Formosa!”
Yanes pumped his arms up into the air and began clapping for himself and the crowd also began clapping. He bowed to his people and said one last thing
“Viva Cristo el Rey!” He then proceeded to enter back into the palace where he was greeted by his aide who told him, “You presented it very well. Good job.” Yanes with all his humility said, “I know.”
He walked to his office and was very excited for next week’s final election.
His team of election specialists came to office an hour before the results were announced.
“Senor Presidente” One of the specialists began, “The results are in… you, 39%, Alvaréz, 61%”
Yanes stared at the specialist for a second then asked, “Can’t you fix it?”
“Well, the difference is huge, senor. The people will know we fiddled with it if we change it now. I’m sorry, senor. You will no longer be Presidente in one hour.”
The specialists left the room and Yanes sat there with anger. “I, Remigio Yanes, have lost!?” He said to himself. He decided to face defeat and have the election specialists announce the results. Yanes decided to start packing his personal belongings to go to his private estate in Puerto Libre and begin living a private life. He decided his aide would take over the Nationalist Party of Baja Formosa which he’d write a letter to her about. He left his office in sadness to collect his items.
Capitol District of Santa Helena, the following day
Alvaréz sat in his open roofed car and waved to the crowds that lined up along the roadside cheering him on to his first Congress meeting where he’d take his oath of office. He tipped his bowler hat and the people as a sign of respect and handed his guard Progressive Party pins to hand out to the people. He knew this was the start of a new Baja Formosa.
The grip tightens, and millions fall to obvlivion
June 1st, 1940
Matsram, Ordensstaat Burgund
From the new capital of the "Ordensstaat Burgund", in the office of the Reichsführer Burgundische Johannes Heidrich. The whole building was a buzz with activity as the Burgundian SS had for the most part, entire. Cleansed the cities, the towns, and villages of the filth which inhabited them. With the troops now freed up, a new list of targets was drawn up... Harlem, amongst various other cities. These were teeming with the disgusting "subhumans" that Heidrich was charged with eliminating. As such.... He'd not hesitate to use the full extent of the force under his reign. Without any warning, and with even slimmer resistance. Heidrich would order his forces to not only crush the capital of Mastrakia, but it's people, itself.
While radios reported the ever changing positions of the men Heidrich would use to their fullest extent, exterminating, and taking those who might fit his own idea of "True Burgundians". However few and far they may be. They would fit into an overarching plan, one still being set up of course. One that only Heidrich knew of, he'd wait for the right time to unveil it, naturally. It took mere hours for the first report to come in "Harlem is ours". Such a statement caused a barely noticeable, but bemused "Hmm." to escape Heidrich's lips. Only because for the time being, he couldn't truly let the depths of his depravity slip out. Not now. Not while there was still more work to be done. Someone might report back across the border, might get him... Removed, from his position of authority. To say he had "quite a lot" of thoughts rushing through the back of his head would be an immense understatement of the century.
Everything as he saw it, was leading to the greatest, most ambitious plan of all human history.... At least the part that was in the history books anyway. Even as, no doubt, hundreds of thousands, maybe upworth of a million were condemned to oblivion, by merciless black clad soldiers who gunned down anyone and everyone who wasn't like them, or of them. Heidrich knew, the extermination of these.... Wretched beings was all that much closer to completion. He'd have no illusions. Matstrakia must fall, every last territory of it's "state" must be under Burgundian control. Those who survive this... Well.... They'd regret doing so, certainly. As they would have not a way, at all, of knowing just what misery they would endure.
The misery and ultimate extermination of the Matstrakians would ultimately, likely, make any crime before it by any other state, look like mere child's play. All due to one single man, and the state he was building, geared specifically towards creating the only state of it's kind. A concentration state, one where there would be more camps, than housing, starvation would run rampant. All for one goal, which Johannes would keep to himself, until the day he could truly let this train ride, finally kick into full gear. While millions would be shipped by train to these very same camps, and be systematically exterminated.
This would... Eerily in some places, cause a strange "rain" of ash, little would those realise, the ashes which rained on them, were the remains of those whose souls would be forever lost, remembered only as a number in a ledger somewhere in one of these death camps.
August, 1940 Kremlin
Radio: Good evening, our dear radio listeners, we will immediately move on to the most interesting of the week - the presenter said cheerfully - This week our great leader of the peoples woke up from a coma, he is weak, but he declares that he will put UVCP on his feet again. Georgy Khvastuk also commented on the reason for the sharp drop in wages, rising prices and a decrease in all goods. Quote: My dear residents, you all already know that someone was plotting against me, but God saved my life and gave UVCP a second chance, I promise I will not miss it as well as I will not lose the UVCP advice that led the country to this. Promise . GLORY UVCP.
Georgy Khvastuk turned off the radio and sat down at the table in a warm coat and wrote: 314 out of 500 ministers from the UVCP council give a yellow ticket with a black line
"A house divided against itself cannot stand!"
1st August 1940
The royal establishment of Yugoslavia was totally oblivious. Communists successfully managed to unite the workers, the commoner and the proletariat. They were the 4th largest party in the Constitutent, a body which assembled the national Constitution. To the royal family and the Yugoslav political establishment as a whole, such a powerful communist force was a great problem, which could offset the current reactionary political balance. They could also take the masses to the streets, and they could organise very large and meaningful protests and public demonstrations. For all those reasons, the cowardly reactionaries decided to act, and encouraged the then King Alexander I to issue the royal decree going by the name Obznana.
Obznana comes from the verb obznaniti, which means to proclaim or announce. It, among other things, introduced greater powers to the King, empowered the police force to enforce stricter curfews and policies, but the most importantly, it banned workers' unions, all socialist and communist movements and introduced strict punishments for the individuals defying this new legislation. The largest of the socialist movements was the Communist Party of Yugoslavia (CPY) was dismantled, its members sentenced to lenghty prison incarceration, hunted like witches and publicly hung and shamed. The CPY, under its leader Josip Broz Tito, went underground and started working illegaly, under the radar.
CPY had more than 20,000 members prior to Obznana, but after it had been put in place many voluntarily left the party, or were arrested, which resulted in only barely more than 2,000 active members. Tito fled the country into exile, with the Yugoslav Supreme Court sentencing him to death in absentia, and the Constitutional Court of Yugoslavia declared that "the subversive actions of the CPY and especially its leader, Josip Broz Tito, are threatening the Constitution and the constitutional order of Yugoslavia. The court finds the defendant guilty of 17 counts of breaching of the Constitution, 4 counts of the planning to disrupt the constitutional order of Yugoslavia and 2 counts of treason to the Constitution and sentences the defendant to death by public hanging in absentia". It is an understatement to say those trials were sham trials. There was no defence to speak of, nor anyone who would represent it. It was just the prosecutors listing charges, with the judges accepting almost any of them.
Slowly but surely, under the radar and away from interested eyes, the communists and CPY started secretely buying weapons, and if the government is to be trusted, the CVCP was the main culprit. They were secretely starting to amass large quantities of firearms, ammunition and grenades in far-off warehouses. The numbers of members slowly started going up. Disgusted by the hypocrisy and open corruption of the royal family and the political establishment, the people became increasingly aliented from the political parties in charge. By the end of 1939 the CPY had more than 30,000 members. In April 1940, the CPY established its armed wing, called the National Liberation Army and Partisan Detachments of Yugoslavia, or shortened to NLA, and its first unit was established near the town of Sisak, in Brezovica, and consisted of 300 members.
Communists started to expand their armed wing aggresively, setting the target of 15,000 soldiers by the end of June. With more confidence, they no longer hid their actions as much, and raided the Royal Gendarmerie outposts and defended their caravans. The people took notice, and started joining the CPY in record numbers. By the end of June, the party membership ballooned to over 100,000, and the NLA became a gigantic force of over 45,000. It wasn't very well armed, but it was very capable of dealing big blows to the Yugoslav Royal Army. The Army was taking notice, after all 45,000 armed people is very hard to hide, but they didn't think much of it. The 15th August, Tito said. That will be the date of our uprising.
15th of August came. The tension was high. On 7:00 a.m., the coordinated attacks would ensue. The Una corps would attack Bihać, Cazin and Kladuša. Sava corps would attack Velika Gorica, Samobor, Zagreb and Medvednica mountains overlooking Zagreb. The Dalmatia corps would attack Knin, Šibenik, Trogir and Dalmatinska Zagora. The Lika corps would attack sorrounding area of Gospić, and the town of Otočac and Plitvice, the Istria corps would secure Istria, the Neretva corps would attack Hertzegovina and Mostar, Vojvodina corps would attack Novi Sad, Sombor, Subotica and Apatin, with the Dunav corps attacking Pančevo and Belgrade, the capital. The clock is ticking. Everyone is nervous. The Supreme Command of the NLA, headed by Tito, was stationed in Bosnian mountains, waiting for the attacks to commence. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. It's 7 o'clock. The attacks begin.
The Una corps: Cazin and Kladuša were taken without much fighting. Bihać was defended much more severely. It fell only after 6 days of encirclement.
The Sava corps: Velika Gorica and Samobor were taken with a little severe fighting. Attack on Zagreb was fierce. After 3 days, the NLA took control of the mountains above Zagreb, the Medvednica, and encircled the city. Zagreb fell on the 29th August, 2 weeks after the initial attack. Reinforcements failed to break the NLA siege.
The Dalmatia corps: Knin fell easily, with the whole Zagora falling in little more than 3 days. Šibenik and Trogir repelled the attacks, and the offensive actions on those cities were called off.
The Lika corps: Surrounding forests and land of Gospić was easily taken, with the city voluntarily surrendering, being in full encirclement. Otočac and Plitvice fell without resistance, thus the corps has reached all it's objectives and secured Lika.
Istria corps: Istria corps was an independent corps, which was surrounded by Yugoslav forces from the start. After 3 days of heroic fighting, the corps was destroyed by the Royal Yugoslv Army.
Neretva corps: Attacks against Herzegovina was successful, securing the villages of the region, but attack on Mostar was much more rough. The Royal Yugoslav Army delivered a crippling blow to NLA, neutralising the attack on Mostar.
Vojvodina corps: Attacks on Apatin, Sombor and Subotica were successful without major battles. Attack on Novi Sad was rough, lasting 3 days, afterwhich the NLA retreated due to insufficient resources.
Dunav corps: The corps was found due to a deserter and was ambushed and destroyed by the Yugoslav Royal Army.
1st September 1940 - onward
After the NLA has directed these intense attacks against the Yugoslav Royal Army centres, the front lines have mostly hardened and the royalist forces are in a deep stalemate with the NLA. The royalists control most of the littoral and the coastal parts, while the NLA controls the rural interior. The Navy and the Air Force mostly side with the royalists, while the Army has split in half, each half going to one faction. The NLA is getting stronger by the day, with more people joining the communist cause, but the royalists have much larger monetary resources and are better equipped. The NLA, on the 1st September, proclaimed the Anti-royalist Council of National Liberation of the Federation of Yugoslavia, with te de facto capital in Zagreb.
The President-Regent Paul I proclaimed that the NLA is an illegitimate force that tried to illegally break away from Yugoslavia. He said exclaimed that the international community should abstain from opening relations to the newly proclaimed communist government. Marshall Tito announced that the imperialistic royalist and despotic era is over and that the new government will help proletariat to break their slave chains.
The fighting is raging on, while the belligerents crave international recognition and funds. Who will prevail? Many Yugoslavs are figuring out that same question.
Fresh from its Conquest of Funfuli, the Amaan Navy Stops by the Homeland to Pick up the Army and several New Ships with more marines before Heading off to its next Target. The naval Invasion of the New Haloria would Enable Calarimian and Amaan Troops to gather for the Invasion of New Halbridge and Kalonian Ocea, the two main targets of Operation Uira te Atua. The Lightning God who was Badly Wounded During the Ancient War between the gods and buried to regenerate and in Amaan Mythology will come again and rise out of the ocean to fight alongside thee Amaans in the final battle between good and evil. In this first, Solely Amaan part of the invasion, The Main Fleet (5 Naval Groups) will carry the Marines and 3 Army groups into battle, two Airforce Groups will provide air support as the landings occur on the Northern Part of the island. Kalonian Resitance will be stiff. But the amaans Expect to win a Pyrrhic Victory. Which would enable the Calarmians to have a jump off point for the invasion of the Main Kalonian South Magellic holdings.
June 14th, 1940
General Erwin Ostfeld narrowed his eyes outside the Asadal Calarimian Post Office, his hatred for this parasite which sought to suck blood from his purging growing by the second. In the dark of night, it was the only building which was even slightly lit. "Begin your assault, lieutenant." The General said cooly, and Host nodded, signalling for the Exoan team to begin.
In an instant, shaking its inhabitants with surprise, dozens of soldiers zipped from the ceiling of the building down to the windows, crashing through them and allowing glass shards to splatter across the rooms of the post office.
Min Suk Jon looked out at the soldiers. Several other people near the doorway were covered in glass, bleeding. Min ran out and tried to help the nearest one up, while carefully looking at the soldiers, not making any quick movements.
"Stand back!" One of the soldiers yelled toward Min, pulling his MP39 to face the young Arcadisian.
Min backed off slowly, looking at him in the eyes. He began scanning the region to see if there was anything he could use to fight back. He decided against it within milliseconds, seeing how quickly THAT would get him killed.
Eisen, in his sleep wear, holding a cup of warm Calarimian Tea, walked in. He stopped mid-step, eyeing the Exoans. He dropped his cup, it's contents shattering onto the floor.
"What the f**k-"
"Hands behind your back!" Lieutenant Host said, stepping forward with a wicked grin across his face. "You're under arrest for treason against the Colony of Archuko."
"W-wait, you can't do this-"
He took a step back, shaking.
Min stepped forward.
"Hang on, you can't just do this. We're Calarimian citizens, you'll need further proof than just bursting in and saying we're traitors!"
The wicked officer's grin simply built further as he stared down at the Arcadisian for a brief moment. Chuckling, he stepped forward. "Don't flatter yourself, inferior. We're here for the mailman, and the Governor-General has already signed his execution." He said, shoving the Arcadisian away with the butt of his MP39 before turning back toward Eisen. Locking the postmaster's hands in cuffs, he took the man to the top of the office's staircase, Arcadisians crowded in the room below.
In an instant, the front doors were kicked open once again, and through them ran a series of soldiers, lining up quickly in a row, heiling. "Heil Boross!" The said as Governor-General Ostfeld walked through. The man who had ordered this terror against Arcadisia barely paid the huddled masses any mind, turning up toward Eisen. "Mr. Totoya." Ostfeld said, beginning up the steps slowly, his hands locked behind his back.
His mind raced around as he attempted to figure out something, anything that could get him out of this. The fine print on a legal document, a threat of international reparations, anything. But... he came up blank. There was nothing he could do. He eyed Ostfeld with a anger that was if you had known him, completely unlike him. He normally kept himself collected. But he represented everything he was against. A break from character would be allowed here.
Min looked at Totoya. Was this what he was always like? From the looks on the other people's faces, that's certainly what they seemed to think so. But no, from what little time he had known him...he was protecting them. He tried to think of some way to help, but his mind also came up blank. Perhaps, for now, the best way would be to stay silent. He looked at Totoya. The fate of everyone's lives rested on him in this moment.
"So good to finally meet you." Ostfeld said, wearing the same wicked smile as Host. He chuckled a bit himself, continuing up the stairs, before finally finding himself level with Totoya. He took one of his black gloves off, and then with his free hand the other, tossing them toward Host. Remaining silent for a moment more, he took in the man. "You didn't seriously think this would work, did you? That you could just harbor a few thousand Arcadisians in this post office in clear violation of my orders?"
"Arcadisians and Calarimians. You blocked the cities from all supplies. That means none of the supplies needed to sustain the Calarimian lifestyle are coming in and we are starving alongside them. Many evacuated, but a good portion have not. Anyone is - or was - welcome in the post office."
Ostfeld's smile grew. "If you had any complaints about my governance, you could've lodged them with my office." His smile suddenly and quickly faded. "But no, you wanted to die a martyr. Against what? Against your own race?" He said, curling his lip. "You know, it's a great shame, this. I know that all even semi-successful cultures and civilizations were built by the Exoan and Miklozian people, but I really thought that Calarim was an exception. I suppose I was wrong." He said, moving up to the top of the flight of the stairs and drawing his luger from his waist. "You are the exception that proves the rule. And now all of these people who you thought you could save will die with you." He said, cocking the pistol and aiming it at Totoya's head, as the soldiers spread throughout the building did the same, turning the barrels of their weapons toward the Arcadisians gathered.
The Arcadisians quivered and looked at the soldiers, wide eyed in terror. A few fell backwards, the others tried to shield their loved ones. Others still tried to hid behind the others. Min himself stood his ground, glaring at the soldiers. He was careful not to look TOO angry, as if that could somehow make the situation worse - somehow, but enough to stand his ground.
It clicked. He knew how to get out of this.
"Wait, hold on! This post office, it isn't territory of Archokuo. It's officially Empire of Calarim, so you have no power here!"
Technicalities were his specialty... it's how he avoided being heavily taxed due to operating inside Archokuo.
Ostfeld stopped, his gun beginning to shake in his hand. Host watched with subdued shock as the Governor-General's eyes darted side-to-side rapidly in quick thought. The Exoan's hand shook further, the room deathly silent as the gun remained pointed toward the postmaster, however erratic. Unable to control himself, he pulled the trigger.
The gun fired off, the bullet landing in the ceiling, the general having diverted his aim at the last second, before Ostfeld holstered his pistol. "So be it, postmaster." Ostfeld said, his face struck with intense anger as he threw the weight of his hands against the Calarimian, pushing him down the flight of stairs.
Min quickly ran for Totoya, trying to help him up. He wasn't sure if what Totoya had said was legit - wasn't the colony a property of the Empire? But he wasn't going to complain. Plus, his knowledge on the matter was dim. He knelt down.
"Are you ok sir?"
He groaned, rubbing his head. He had quite the fall but it was better then a bullet to the head.
"Yeah, I'm fine..."
He rose to his feet and dusted himself off. A sharp pain went up through his leg, but he paid it no mind... for now atleast.
"You are a fool to make me your enemy, Totoya." Ostfeld said from atop the stairs, his wicked smile returning with each word. His eyes narrowed, playing into the postman's game. "This post office may be property of the Empire of Calarim, but the people you're holding here are property of the Colony of Archuko. I demand you hand them over."
"You cannot demand anything from here, Ostfeld. Not even a drop of water. You may leave now."
He said this as he gave a reassuring nod to Min.
Min looked over Totoya his medical training drowning out whatever happened around outside. He didn't seem to be hurt that much. Maybe some bruising on the backside - but he'd have to -
He snapped back to reality, and realized he couldn't look at any of that. At least, not in this situation. He'd have to wait for Ostfeld to leave. The Arcadisians in the building stood around, looking at the confrontation.
Ostfeld's face became red, pulsing with rage. His fist shook even as he took his hand to his eye to readjust his faltering monocle. Taking a deep breath in, he turned around, looking toward each and every Arcadisian face crowding the room. "I hereby," he said, his voice still shaking, "grant a full pardon to each and every Arcadisian who has committed sedition by taking refuge in this office. Leave now, and you and your loved ones will be allowed out of Asadal." Breathing in again, he turned back down toward Eisen with complete hatred. "As for you, I have always believed in one guiding principle: the crime of one man stains his whole race. I will hereby order the execution of every Calarimian left in the city for treason." He said, beginning to glide down the stairs, his hands still behind his back.
Charlie and Ellie, who were among the crowd, looked out at each other. They too began to talk among themselves as the rest of the crowd began to murmur.
"Think we should help the Calarimians?" Charlie whispered.
"I don't know. Should we? Wouldn't they turn us in the moment we helped them out?" The two remained silent, looking out at the crowd. "We should get out of here. We're not doing the others here any favors by being here. If the Governor General finds out that we're here, he'll order every one of us to be killed. Actually, I'm surprised he hasn't realized that he does have the authority to just-"
"Shh. He'll hear."
"If he's heard this, he's heard everything and we're dead." The two fell silent, as they listened to the rantings of a portly man telling a long and lanky man about how his basket weaving business was going to go broke due to the lockdown.
He stood there, silent. Most of the Calarimians had evacuated anyway, but... there were the ones who haven't. Oh no... He shook his head.
"Sir?" The lieutenant independence fighter stepped up and walked up to Totoya. "I think...I think I can help them."
"That's right, you fool!" Ostfeld said from atop the stairs still, his wicked grin growing with each step down. "In your attempt at a humanitarian rescue, you have just doomed your own people to death!" He become to cockle, before taming himself as he reached Eisen, readjusting his monocle once again. "And... I wonder how well you will do here without any more supplies?" He glared down at the beaten-down man with pure hatred, before turning and finally making his way to the door, the soldiers heiling once again before following their general out, quickly moving to form a military blockade around the post office.
"You weren't being serious about that pardon thing, were you sir?" Lieutenant Host muttered to the General.
Ostfeld simply smirked. "Of course not. If any give themselves up, take them over to that alley and have them shot." He said, gesturing toward an empty alley nearby.
As Ostfeld left, Charlie walked up to the lieutenant, and dragged him up the stairs.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm paying them back for how they helped us." Charlie laughed.
"Paying them back? What are you, Ostfeld? One Calarimian helped us. Ok. You really think those Calarimians you'll 'save' will thank us?" He looked around. "You know how they see us?" He spat on the ground. "THAT's how they see us. You heard of the pogroms, the massacres, and the destruction they've wrought - and that's just as civilians. They'll turn us in to save themselves the first chance they get. We have to save ourselves." Charlie looked down, guilt clouding his face. He clutched his head. "In any case, the best way to help is to just leave. Pack your gear. We're leaving." Charlie sat down into the corner, clutching his head. The lieutenant headed back down the stairs, running into Totoya.
He stumbled a bit, due to being pushed down a flight of stairs moments earlier. He swiftly regained balance.
"Hey, wait, you said something about being able to help?"
"..." He paused for a moment, thinking about what Charlie had said. Would the Calarimians REALLY sell them out to save themselves? "Yes. As a matter of fact, I think I can help the Calarimians left in here out." He looked around. "Most cities in Archuko are populated by Calarimians at this point...except for Asadal." He straightened up. "I believe there are still around a thousand Calarimians out in the city. If we can reach the Calarimian quarter -" He paused. "No, ones who haven't left are likely in the common city. I know a few districts where we can get them." He remembered on his first day as an independence fighter, what regions he was told to avoid. "Yeah, I think that could work."
"Oh, thank goodness..."
He sighed relieved, the burden of knowing he caused the death of his countrymen being lifted.
"Alright, - When do we begin?"
October 6th, 1940
It'd been a long day for Shiem, made worse by the ever increasing deadlock of the government and the sudden notice from Iem a day ago that he needed to attend to some "urgent family business." For Shiem, all he wanted was to head home and get a good night's rest before the slog that would inevitably arrive the next day. However, when he got home, the last thing he expected was to see a military officer waiting in front of it. The officer approached Shiem with a letter in hand. "For you, sir." He handed the letter to Shiem before walking back to his car. Shiem nodded and checked the letter. The letter was sent by Iem, and on the front of the letter was stamped URGENT. Shiem opened the letter and read its contents.
"I know this seems sudden, but tomorrow morning at 10:00 a military escort will be waiting for you outside of the government buildings. Meet them at that time, and I will fill you in on the details later.
Shiem seemed almost unsurprised, but also worried. He himself also had something he needed to say to Iem, but he didn't know when he wanted to say it, or whether it was the appropriate time to do so. He went to bed thinking about this before he realized he couldn't fall asleep.
Morning came and Shiem was tired. He checked the letter again. "10:00, huh?" he checked the clock in his house. 8:40. He grabbed his stuff and left for the day. At 10:00, he arrived at where the letter had instructed him to be, and as the letter said, a convoy of army trucks was there, and in the middle of it an armored car. Shiem approached the soldiers there, who noticed them and called out their officer. The officer emerged, almost half unprepared. "Ah, Shiem, right this way. He was escorted into the armored car, and the officer moved to sit in the passenger seat. The officer leaned back. "Don't tell Iem, but we were told you'd be 10 minutes late." The two of them had a laugh and set off. Shiem looked forward as they left town. "So Iem sent you... Where are he heading?"
"We're heading to a fort just east of here, it shouldn't be too long."
"Ah, got it." Shiem looked again at the officer, and recognized him as being close to Iem. Shiem felt as though the fact that he was assigned to get him probably was no coincidence, and that Iem probably had some larger plan going on. He continued to think about this as the convoy approached the fort.
Shiem emerged from an armored car, with several soldiers waiting for him. Shiem looked over to another high ranking officer who himself was instructed to wait at the front gates in Iem's place. Shiem also recognized that officer as being close to Iem. The officer spoke. "Iem's been waiting for you. Please, follow me." Shiem was lead into the center of the complex, where a small fort stood. Once in the fort, he was lead to a stairwell at the back of the room, which at the bottom of turned into a small labyrinth. In there, he was lead to a door a few feet down the hallway. The officer opened the door. "Iem's waiting you you, sir."
Shiem looked back at the officer. "Thank you officer." The officer closed the door behind him. In the room Shiem saw a table laid out before him, on it a map of the city with several tokens, and behind it Iem watching the table pensively. He looked up to see that Shiem had entered the room.
"Ah, Shiem, good day to you."
"And good day to you." Shiem's tone suddenly became serious. "Iem, I don't understand what's happening here. First you say that you have to attend some family business then you call me here with less than a day's notice and escort me with some of your closest officers. Something's going on here."
Iem straightened his posture. "Indeed something's happening. Listen, I've spent the last two days holed up in here, that whole family business thing being a lie to hide that I was coming here. Point is, I believe that the long wait is over."
"The long wait?"
"Yes, the long wait." He walked over to Shiem and talked quietly and close to his ear. "I think it's time that we finally deposed of this crooked monarchy once and for all."
Shiem stood stunned. "Deposed? You mean you're launching another coup?"
Iem stepped back. "Exactly."
Shiem thought for a moment. "...But what of the Miklozians and the others in the NWO? They're the ones that installed him and the reason he hasn't been dealt with sooner is for threat of retaliation from them."
Iem grinned. "Do you remember almost 5 months ago when Boross arrived on his airship? At the end of his meeting with the Emperor, he came up to me, and you know what he told me? 'Mara must be destroyed. You have my full support, General.' At first I didn't know what to make of it, but then it hit me: if Mara has lost favor with the Miklozians, then it means that we're free to get rid of him, and what do you think I've spent the last 5 months doing?"
Shiem couldn't believe what he was hearing. What he needed to tell Iem... He knew he had to say it now. "Iem..." He hardened his resolve. "...You need to go."
Iem looked at him for a second before bursting into a fit of laughter, but when he looked back at Shiem, his expression hadn't changed. "...You're not joking."
The room fell silent before Shiem spoke up again. "Iem... Look. Our people need stability and a functioning government. They don't need another era of political instability, especially given how hostile our neighbors have been. You've been running the party on this endless charade of going against the Emperor, and it's been causing political backups for years now. We need to work with Mara her-"
Iem slammed the table with the tokens and began to shout. "Mara... No, Shiem, you're wrong. Mara has been a plague on this country ever since he's arrived into power. Each day, he threatens to strip away more and more of our power, and it's why we need a strongman such as myself to keep this country together against him!" Iem quieted his tone a little. "I know what I'm doing makes me look like and seem like an autocrat. I know that s*** hasn't been getting done for the past 4 years. Look, all you need to do is wait a little longer, then it'll all be over."
"And then what?"
"And then... I don't know. All I know is that I'll oversee a new transitional period after that-"
"'I'll?' No, Iem, you won't, you'll just become Mara all over again, no, you are Mara all over again. This is why you need to go, you'll just plunge Central Aucerosa into another era of darkness-"
Iem drew his pistol and pointed it at Shiem. "GODDAMNIT SHIEM! All that talk is just what Mara and his cult of personality says all the damn time! If his words have seduced you this much then you might as well be working with them. Now tell me: whose side are you on, that of liberty and peace, or that of oppression and autocracy?"
Shiem stood still like a deer in headlights, too stunned to say anything.
"...Iem listen to yourself, look at yourself! You talk like you're better than him but here you are pointing a gun at me! If you have any shread of dignity left you'll resi-"
Iem closed his eyes as the sound of a gunshot filled the room following by that of a body collapsing onto the floor. When Iem opened his eyes again, what lay before him was Shiem, having collapsed with a gunshot wound in his abdomen. Iem's hands began to shake as he dropped his gun and went on his knees, realizing what he had just done. "No no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!! Shiem, don't worry, you'll be alright, just let me-"
"...No... Iem..." Shiem spoke quietly, his voice wavering. "It's you... you need to look after. You've forgotten why we're here in the first place... Why you need to... To win this..." Iem began to tear up. "It's not about getting rid of Mara... Or defending the country against our enemies... It's about keeping the democratic dream alive... It's about our people, not us... I can't decide what you will do in these coming days... But please, if anything... Remember that."
Iem began to sob a little. "...I will Shiem... I will."
Shiem smiled. "...Thank you, and... Farewell."
Shiem's body fell limp.
The door swung open as one of Iem's officers entered the room. "Iem, are you okay?" He noticed Shiem's body on the floor. "...Oh my God..."
Iem didn't move. "I..." He stood up. "...He's right, it's not about us... It's about them. Our people... They've suffered for too long. I've lost sight of that for too long now... But now, we need to act. Gather our men, I think it's time we finish what we've started here, and as for Shiem... We'll celebrate his funeral once we return to Alcatz... Once our people are free again."
The Evil Truth - Indo-Authrasia - May 9th, 1940
Da Martini stroke his beard to brink to brink, staring upon a painting while walking back to front upon the room in short steps. The painting was of Queen Annabelle, married to the infamous King Therriy XVI, who was executed upon the Mozakian Revolution. It was painted by Mozakian Painter George Le Blanc Jr. It was a thing of beauty, as was much of Mozaka's art, now in the occupation of the Mikloziaan overlords. The sun rays came straight through the window, as the private estate remained fairly quiet across the 50-something man. Within the room was a few documents upon the happenings of the fallen republic, other documents laid upon a few chairs to the back of the room were of recent conflicts and the last of them remained in a stacked folder on his own seat, the piles of piles of papers kept him occupied most of the day, and this short break was just temporary. With a large glass of water keeping the levels balanced upon the near-extreme heat, with a slice of lemon and lime to give a sting and fizz into the seemingly emotionless drink, metaphorically at least.
A knock came, it was a few knocks before Martini opened the door to now fill the room to two. A younger male, Charles De Fanta. A child of an intellectual and a wealthy businessmen, he was an educated young fellow and remained one of the brightest in Mozaka's recent history. With a few more documents to discuss with the leader himself, he firstly laid them down where a pile of other documents were carelessly stacked up, carefully giving them an open look to opposite man upon him. Joining beside him to see the painting, of which De Martini had stopped his passing and stood completely still now, jolting positions to slight remorse. Looking to the painting for a whole minute, the elder of the two snapped into a moving arena, ushering the young man to sit upon the opposite chair. Gripping the documents laid upon the top of the pile, he gave a quick check before hand, laying them on the tight space remaining on his desk. Placing a pair of circular glasses upon himself, the conversation began.
"So, Mr Fanta, you came in to tell me..?" He questioned the reason of the clerk's entry, he had occasionally seen him wandering to find respective members of the board, yet never stroke a work-related conversation. Gripping his glass of water, he took a sip before the answer would come.
"It's bad news, sir". He took a quick pause before speaking off again. "Anti-Government protests 30 miles off the capital here have been disrupted and rose by the damn autocrats, seemingly heading towards major cities and destroying anything in their path". He gave a much longer pause than before, which gave Martini a time to gift his view.
"Hmm.. What weapons do these people have?" He asked the basic question and was essential to know of what kind of firepower this underground force has up their sleeves. Taking a longer sip of the water, the drips of juices from the two twin fruits on the sides of the glass cup giving a slightly more tangy and fruity flavour, an excitement to the man himself.
"Most have Great War Rifles, a few dozen cannons with a single line of ammunition and two artillery batteries prepared to fire. It will take a few hours before it poses a threat to the capital, so we have some form of time, sir. There is other news-" He was interrupted by the 54-year-old man, who tilted his glasses a moment before and brought himself in to the conversation deeper.
"Order a few thousand of the police to enter in a conflict and prepare some battalions to disrupt the group from behind. Order an airstrike with any remaining planes upon the target. Take no prisoners." He gave a bold answer, as he cared little for who died, but to disrupt, destroy and conquer, known as DDC. He followed these rules in conflict anytime, and this was no exception, not to any inferiors at least.
"But sir-" The young man had prepared some form of against this, but was interrupted by an usher to walk off and order the events to take place. One problem could be easily solved through this. Taking a sip through the water, in which was filled several times today, he glared to the documents of which the clerk had laid out for him nearby to the leader. As soon as he read the first few words of the document, he immediately spat his water to the ground, an impressive length he had achieved, as a puddle of irrelevant water lay upon the wooden panels. His eyes read, "Several colonies have asked to be free" in complete bold letters. On the top of his voice, in a spot of anger, shouted for the various ministers and the clerk to return to the office for further analysis of this major event.
A few minutes gave away for all to come to the room, ranging in age and height. Some were approaching their 60's, others were still in their 30's. As most stood due to the lack of space, De Martini gripped the small amount of documents, around 4-5, and tossed them effortlessly to a single minister, ushering them for all to read it. As he poured himself a new glass of the water, the jug seems low of liquid he desired. Though he was busy, Charles quickly arranged for a servant to get a refill. Looking to the ministers in weird expression of worried anger, he stared straight into their eyes, all of them. A glaring look came to play, as minister by minister gave a normal read to the document upon the top.
"So, what are we going to do?" Asked De Martini, attempting to open the conversation to all within the room. Most were blank to know, only some form of diplomatic appeasement or military action would be acceptable for the situation. However, the clerk had the answer. Finally, someone with an idea to express to him.
"Sir, why don't we allow them some form of an independent economy and self-governce, but reman part of Free Mozaka?" He asked the leader, as the idea tossed in his busy mind. Appeasement wasn't the way to go, not what Kalonia, eventually, like to what had become, would see disaster. Military action was needed as an essential part. Staring directly to the Minister of Defence, he was blank as well.
"Is their any form of uprising's in the colonies?" He asked brightly, with them all giving a go to find some form of uprising in the documents. Staring to them all, most were blank swell. A fit of rage came to him. Why did he pick these fools to be his advisors, giving him key information and advice of what to do. It was an inside to the fit of rage, not to of the public eye. Taking a sip of newly poured water, as the hot heat bounced through the room. Gripping his glass, as even the clerk was completely blank in answer. Jumping up from his seat, he threw the glass to the other end of the room, just missing his Minister of Foreign Activities. He was in an obvious fit of rage. "OUT! OUTTTT!" He shouted to them, slamming his fist numerous times on the table.
What was he to do? With the support of his advisor at a low, colonies wanting independence and uprisings, it was a poor performance. What did Mozaka do to receive this? He had only proven to defeat uprisings then appease them like many would. What was he to do? This question was the only question.
OOC: Obviously, they did murder tribes, it was a form of satire.
Moscow August 1940
The official government of Yugoslavia often accused us, UVCP, that we incite people to revolution and even did it and we denied everything for a long time, but when the revolution came of its own accord, Georgiy Khvastuk made a speech for Yugoslavia: Comrades workers, slaves oppressed by their imperialist masters ... You asked us a lot for help and we saw your great suffering, I promise you that I will help you NLA, I acknowledge you and wish you the best of luck. May communism help you.
A day after the speech, caravans of weapons went to the NLA, and UVCP delegates were already developing relations with the revolutionaries.