10 Marlborough Street, Sacramento
22 May 1930
With the situation in Europe becoming what it was, the notice was posted at every Pacifican embassy and consulate in the world by order of the Foreign Office. For now it was lightly-worded; a more heavily worded version was already prepared.
This portion of the day's work done, Lord Baden-Grey returned to the reports from the Ambassadors in Europe and sighed once more at the image of a world descending into Hell.
Travel Warning
All citizens of the Pacific Kingdoms are warned by the Foreign Office of His Majesty's Government to be cautious when deciding upon travel in the region of the Mediterranean Sea. Tensions in Europe are escalating in a manner that makes the threat of war increasingly likely. It is recommended that if travel to the region is being done solely as a point of personal pleasure it should be reconsidered until the situation in Europe stabilizes.
XXIX Corps HQ
Edmonton, New Salisbury
Major General Diego Ramirez de Palma listened to his new staff report on the situation with the newly-raised units being assigned to the 5th Army in New Salisbury. Three divisions of infantry, fighting strength cut in half compared to the normal infantry division due to the need for personnel to maintain and supply the trucks and vehicles that motorized the 75th, 76th, and 77th Divisions. The units would not be fully ready for some time, though they were in place in terms of troops, material, barracks, etc., since they needed to train together and live together before the units could be considered cohesive.
The assignment of the divisions to the north was primarily a means of avoiding any hints of escalation with Mexico while keeping the units in North America and in a suitable terrain for maneuver training. The flat plains of New Salisbury were considered appropriate for the job, though they'd been assigned to positions around Edmonton to avoid any provocations with the prickly Yanks. Given the situation as it stood a crisis with the Yanks was the last thing the Empire needed.
Enjoying a bit of soda - Yank soda was something de Palma had a weakness for, preferring it over tea when he could not enjoy his preferred vice of tequila - de Palma brought up a series of requests from the Quartermaster Corps for them to consider, yet more of the tedium and sublimity that actually came with high command in the military. As the saying sometimes went, "Amateurs study tactics, Professionals study logistics."
Summary
European tensions viewed with growing alarm in Pacifica.
New motorized divisions, using the trucks provided by the Battleships-for-Motorized Equipment deal with the Taiping, in place for training in the plains of central and northern New Salisbury (RL Alberta).
STGOD!
Moderator: B4UTRUST
#76
Chatniks on the (nonexistant) risks of the Large Hadron Collector:
"The chance of Shep talking his way into the control room for an ICBM is probably higher than that." - Seth
"Come on, who wouldn't trade a few dozen square miles of French countryside for Warp 3.5?" - Marina
"The chance of Shep talking his way into the control room for an ICBM is probably higher than that." - Seth
"Come on, who wouldn't trade a few dozen square miles of French countryside for Warp 3.5?" - Marina
#77
May 16, 1930
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Sellase groaned and rubbed his eyes some. The messages had been sent to each of the Ethiopian embassies in question. Now it was just a question of what the responses would be. He was fairly certain that they would be affirmative, but there was the chance that they wouldn't. Of course, there were other matters to attend to as well. A date had been chosen for the coronation, and now it was time for the invitations to be sent.
Nekemte Military Base, Ethiopian Empire
Hailu Tekle Haymanot smiled as the troops lined up for their morning roll call. In the distance the tanks were already rolling up and preparing for the day of practice runs. He was no fan of the Regent, but nor was he an idiot. Tafari Makonnen had already manipulated the former Gugsa Welle into becoming a traitor, and he would be damned if he was going to fall into that trap. Even if he could have beaten that upstart Mangasha from the Sudan to the Ocean and back, it wouldn't have done any good in the long run. So for now he would wait and bide his time. Become the hero that had subdued the Sudan for the glory of Ethiopia. In addition, he would have a grand and loyal army at his beck and call.
All he had to do was wait for his chance.
Summery
- There's a party and you're all invited!
- Haymanot is preparing his troops to move against the Sudan.
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Sellase groaned and rubbed his eyes some. The messages had been sent to each of the Ethiopian embassies in question. Now it was just a question of what the responses would be. He was fairly certain that they would be affirmative, but there was the chance that they wouldn't. Of course, there were other matters to attend to as well. A date had been chosen for the coronation, and now it was time for the invitations to be sent.
May 23, 1930From: The Glorious Empire of Ethiopia
To: (Insert Your Faction Here)
With the death of her Majesty, Empress Zauditu I in the early days of April, Ethiopia has entered into a state of mourning for the loss of our illustrious ruler. Know however that the Crown Regent, Tafari Makonnen shall soon rise to the station of Emperor of all of Ethiopia. We cordially invite a representative of your nation to attend this grand occasion on the 2nd of November in the Year of Our Lord, 1930.
Nekemte Military Base, Ethiopian Empire
Hailu Tekle Haymanot smiled as the troops lined up for their morning roll call. In the distance the tanks were already rolling up and preparing for the day of practice runs. He was no fan of the Regent, but nor was he an idiot. Tafari Makonnen had already manipulated the former Gugsa Welle into becoming a traitor, and he would be damned if he was going to fall into that trap. Even if he could have beaten that upstart Mangasha from the Sudan to the Ocean and back, it wouldn't have done any good in the long run. So for now he would wait and bide his time. Become the hero that had subdued the Sudan for the glory of Ethiopia. In addition, he would have a grand and loyal army at his beck and call.
All he had to do was wait for his chance.
Summery
- There's a party and you're all invited!
- Haymanot is preparing his troops to move against the Sudan.
Moderator of Philosophy and Theology
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Comrade Tortoise
- Exemplar
- Posts: 4832
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#78
Hamburg Germany
"What do you have for me Herr Harlich?" Rommel asked
"The latest procurment and recruitment request." the man replied, handing over the document which was read over by the Chancillor. He signed it.
"which brings us to where those will be deployed. The Hungarians just faxed this over. It is am invitation to move our air fleet from Austria to their airbases on the coast. I am inclined to accept. It will allow us to strike deeper into ROman territory when the time comes than we otherwise would. We would replace those planes with new construction."
"I am inclined to concur. See that it is done"
He looked down at a diplomatic document laid at his desk an hour earlier. Read it over, and signed it.
Summary:
Build orders authorized
Austrian Airfleet set to be redeployed to hungary
Request for invitation for a roman ambassador to come to hamburg accepted and invitation sent. The invitation is standing, and open.
"What do you have for me Herr Harlich?" Rommel asked
"The latest procurment and recruitment request." the man replied, handing over the document which was read over by the Chancillor. He signed it.
"which brings us to where those will be deployed. The Hungarians just faxed this over. It is am invitation to move our air fleet from Austria to their airbases on the coast. I am inclined to accept. It will allow us to strike deeper into ROman territory when the time comes than we otherwise would. We would replace those planes with new construction."
"I am inclined to concur. See that it is done"
He looked down at a diplomatic document laid at his desk an hour earlier. Read it over, and signed it.
Summary:
Build orders authorized
Austrian Airfleet set to be redeployed to hungary
Request for invitation for a roman ambassador to come to hamburg accepted and invitation sent. The invitation is standing, and open.
Last edited by Comrade Tortoise on Sat Jan 16, 2010 11:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution."
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
#79
The Vasan Commonwealth again urges calm among Europe's Great Powers and again stresses that Danzig will intervene to maintain the balance of power in Europe.
All Vasan military forces are on a one week warning for call up.
All Vasan military forces are on a one week warning for call up.
#80
May 1, 1930
Mexico City
"And if you don't like it, you can shove it right up your greasy brown ass!" Alan Vicious slammed the door on his way out, fuming as he stormed from the office of the Mexican President. His voice carried throughout the capitol building, several ears perking up at this final exchange. The screaming match had gone on for hours, laden with horrid language. Once back to his official car, he growled at his driver, a scowl deep on his face. "Get me the hell out of this Maraca Mansion, I have things to do." The car peeled out of the Mexican Capitol Building towards the American Consulate.
Once there, he stormed into the planning room, which was occupied by four men already. "Get your things in order you sons of bitches."
Marcus eyed the Vice President with a careful look. "We've got everything we possibly can. What's happening?"
"What's happening? We're getting nowhere and that's just where we've been for the last month. The situation hasn't changed, so we're going to force the issue. We're getting ready to go to war. I've already told the President to mobilize the reserves to get ready."
"Which reserves?" Bart asked.
"All of them," Vicious responded with a heavy finality.
May 15, 1930
Washington D.C.
President Kincaid looked at the mobilization orders he had signed two weeks ago with grim determination. This was needed, it had to happen now, or things would end poorly. The situation with Mexico was necessary, anything less and the conflict that was to come would have destroyed the United States. Death from within would have allowed anyone to topple the United States and use it to their own devices, and he could not allow that. The diplomat he had sent to California had been met with hospitality by the Nortons, but that was to be expected by a nation that was ostensibly brokering peace, but Mexico had not yet sent an envoy to engage in the talks, and it had taken far too long. At this point, Ambassador Simpson was on a very luxurious paid vacation, visiting several places of ill-repute no doubt.
"Jon, I'm telling you, we should wait for an overt attack before we strike, ensure the rightness of our cause," the man bound to his chair pleaded.
The President sighed. "Frank, I know you'd like us to be examples to other nations, but we must do what must be done. We took the high road long ago, and where did that leave us? Our nation splintered and divided. There is a very real threat facing us, you know that. We don't have the benefit of just letting them hit our heartland, our breadbasket, and pushing us back to the Mississippi or beyond. We have a mobile force, we need to strike first. We need to strike hard. We need to strike such that none would ever dare to threaten us ever again. Look at Germany, and now Rome! They think they can simple do as they wish around us, as though we barely matter. We have agents of foreign powers attacking churches and homes, taking refuge beyond our borders, because we lack the reach or the power to stop them. This ends now."
"I don't like it sir, but then I guess I don't have to. I'll go along with this plan Jon, but I wish there was a better way."
"There isn't, believe me, I've looked long and hard. This is how it has to be."
"I wish I had your certainty," Roosevelt sighed.
"No, you don't," Jon gave the man across from him a sullen look. "Go make sure that Congress knows what they need to do."
"Yes sir, I will." The man wheeled his way out of the oval office.
May 28, 1930
Birmingham, Alabama
Colonel Hudson took a long drag from his Cigar as looked at the reservists assembled in front of him. "I have to say I did not expect this day to come. Still, here we are. Gentlemen I will not lie to you. Ahead we face the threat of war, and should we be given orders to do so, we will fight. Now it is not the plan that we end up on the line with the regulars, but make no mistake, it may well happen. It may also happen that the line is brought to us. I don't think I need to tell you the stakes should it come to that, and I damn well don't need to tell you what happens if we fail. So my advice men is to not fail. In fact my standing order is to fail at failure so damn hard the enemy takes one look at you and stops to pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. Over the next few months we will make sure that this becomes fact, because this time, I promise you, our targets won't be able to run by crossing no damn river."
New York Times: June 1st, 1930
HEADLINE: WAR WITH MEXICO?
Page 2: Millions lose fathers, husbands to reservist calls
Page 3: Vice President Vicious returns home
Page 4: Talks with Mexico end, diplomatic team refuses to leave
Page 5: Rome refuses to turn back Caribbean-bound fleet
Page 8: Pacifican Peace Conference Flops
Page 12: Tensions Rise in Europe as German Airplanes move to Hungary
Page 30: (OPED) Could England be manipulating the conflict in Europe?
Mexico City
"And if you don't like it, you can shove it right up your greasy brown ass!" Alan Vicious slammed the door on his way out, fuming as he stormed from the office of the Mexican President. His voice carried throughout the capitol building, several ears perking up at this final exchange. The screaming match had gone on for hours, laden with horrid language. Once back to his official car, he growled at his driver, a scowl deep on his face. "Get me the hell out of this Maraca Mansion, I have things to do." The car peeled out of the Mexican Capitol Building towards the American Consulate.
Once there, he stormed into the planning room, which was occupied by four men already. "Get your things in order you sons of bitches."
Marcus eyed the Vice President with a careful look. "We've got everything we possibly can. What's happening?"
"What's happening? We're getting nowhere and that's just where we've been for the last month. The situation hasn't changed, so we're going to force the issue. We're getting ready to go to war. I've already told the President to mobilize the reserves to get ready."
"Which reserves?" Bart asked.
"All of them," Vicious responded with a heavy finality.
May 15, 1930
Washington D.C.
President Kincaid looked at the mobilization orders he had signed two weeks ago with grim determination. This was needed, it had to happen now, or things would end poorly. The situation with Mexico was necessary, anything less and the conflict that was to come would have destroyed the United States. Death from within would have allowed anyone to topple the United States and use it to their own devices, and he could not allow that. The diplomat he had sent to California had been met with hospitality by the Nortons, but that was to be expected by a nation that was ostensibly brokering peace, but Mexico had not yet sent an envoy to engage in the talks, and it had taken far too long. At this point, Ambassador Simpson was on a very luxurious paid vacation, visiting several places of ill-repute no doubt.
"Jon, I'm telling you, we should wait for an overt attack before we strike, ensure the rightness of our cause," the man bound to his chair pleaded.
The President sighed. "Frank, I know you'd like us to be examples to other nations, but we must do what must be done. We took the high road long ago, and where did that leave us? Our nation splintered and divided. There is a very real threat facing us, you know that. We don't have the benefit of just letting them hit our heartland, our breadbasket, and pushing us back to the Mississippi or beyond. We have a mobile force, we need to strike first. We need to strike hard. We need to strike such that none would ever dare to threaten us ever again. Look at Germany, and now Rome! They think they can simple do as they wish around us, as though we barely matter. We have agents of foreign powers attacking churches and homes, taking refuge beyond our borders, because we lack the reach or the power to stop them. This ends now."
"I don't like it sir, but then I guess I don't have to. I'll go along with this plan Jon, but I wish there was a better way."
"There isn't, believe me, I've looked long and hard. This is how it has to be."
"I wish I had your certainty," Roosevelt sighed.
"No, you don't," Jon gave the man across from him a sullen look. "Go make sure that Congress knows what they need to do."
"Yes sir, I will." The man wheeled his way out of the oval office.
May 28, 1930
Birmingham, Alabama
Colonel Hudson took a long drag from his Cigar as looked at the reservists assembled in front of him. "I have to say I did not expect this day to come. Still, here we are. Gentlemen I will not lie to you. Ahead we face the threat of war, and should we be given orders to do so, we will fight. Now it is not the plan that we end up on the line with the regulars, but make no mistake, it may well happen. It may also happen that the line is brought to us. I don't think I need to tell you the stakes should it come to that, and I damn well don't need to tell you what happens if we fail. So my advice men is to not fail. In fact my standing order is to fail at failure so damn hard the enemy takes one look at you and stops to pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. Over the next few months we will make sure that this becomes fact, because this time, I promise you, our targets won't be able to run by crossing no damn river."
New York Times: June 1st, 1930
HEADLINE: WAR WITH MEXICO?
Page 2: Millions lose fathers, husbands to reservist calls
Page 3: Vice President Vicious returns home
Page 4: Talks with Mexico end, diplomatic team refuses to leave
Page 5: Rome refuses to turn back Caribbean-bound fleet
Page 8: Pacifican Peace Conference Flops
Page 12: Tensions Rise in Europe as German Airplanes move to Hungary
Page 30: (OPED) Could England be manipulating the conflict in Europe?
-
rhoenix
- The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
- Posts: 7998
- Joined: Fri Dec 22, 2006 4:01 pm
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- Contact:
#81
May 2, 1930
Mexico City, Republic of Mexico
The President of Mexico, the members of the Council, and the division generals of each of the branches of the Mexican Armed Forces had gathered with alacrity following the breakdown of talks with the United States' Vice President Vicious.
"It went more or less as we thought it would," said the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Lucille Madron, with a pensive look on her face. "Their delegation had already politely demanded free reign and unlimited aid to go hunt down their KKK terrorists. Their Vice President demanded this as well, but much less politely," she said before taking a sip of her tea. Her hand shook slightly with the motion.
President del Fuego sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "Hell's balls. I was afraid of this. Keep our diplomats working on their delegation, perhaps they can reach a midnight breakthrough or something. Arm them with large samples of our finest tequila and cannabis, maybe that'll help."
Nodding her head already, Minister Madron replied immediately. "Mi Presidente, your thoughts are as mine - I already sent the order for samples to be supplied. In the meantime, Commandant-General, what do you suggest as backup?"
The Commandant-General was leaning back in his chair, trying not to think of what he'd seen when he'd walked into General Arrancar's office today to get his briefing on the state of Mexico's air power. Copious amounts of the substances alluded to by Minister Madron might help tonight to help him forget the level of absolute debouchery he'd witnessed. Then again, he cynically doubted it, as he could still smell the results of that thirty seconds he'd been...exposed to the scene. Taking a sip of his tea to collect his thoughts, he replied after another moment. "Honestly, I don't see talking as working all that well. I say we ready our reserves now, since they appear to be doing the same. Moreover, we should run 'combat exercises' to disguise redeployments near our borders."
The President nodded, looking somber. "Anyone else have anything to report?"
After a few moments of silence from the gathered people, he spoke up again once more. "Alright, then I will make this official. Commandant-General de Icaza, I hereby order you to ready our reserve troops; we'll probably need them from what you've told me earlier today. Additionally, you and your staff may coordinate redeployments as you see fit. My requirement you already know, but I'll say it anyway - Mexico must not strike first in this conflict. Our beloved Mexico must stay on the side of righteousness; if attacked, then we may attack in return with the full fury of all our Hosts, but only then."
The Commandant-General de Icaza nodded soberly, today's encounter with General Arrancar now furthest from his mind. Later, he would reflect on how utterly amazing that very fact was.
Summary: Reserves activated as of May 2nd, forces redeployment forthcoming
Mexico City, Republic of Mexico
The President of Mexico, the members of the Council, and the division generals of each of the branches of the Mexican Armed Forces had gathered with alacrity following the breakdown of talks with the United States' Vice President Vicious.
"It went more or less as we thought it would," said the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Lucille Madron, with a pensive look on her face. "Their delegation had already politely demanded free reign and unlimited aid to go hunt down their KKK terrorists. Their Vice President demanded this as well, but much less politely," she said before taking a sip of her tea. Her hand shook slightly with the motion.
President del Fuego sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "Hell's balls. I was afraid of this. Keep our diplomats working on their delegation, perhaps they can reach a midnight breakthrough or something. Arm them with large samples of our finest tequila and cannabis, maybe that'll help."
Nodding her head already, Minister Madron replied immediately. "Mi Presidente, your thoughts are as mine - I already sent the order for samples to be supplied. In the meantime, Commandant-General, what do you suggest as backup?"
The Commandant-General was leaning back in his chair, trying not to think of what he'd seen when he'd walked into General Arrancar's office today to get his briefing on the state of Mexico's air power. Copious amounts of the substances alluded to by Minister Madron might help tonight to help him forget the level of absolute debouchery he'd witnessed. Then again, he cynically doubted it, as he could still smell the results of that thirty seconds he'd been...exposed to the scene. Taking a sip of his tea to collect his thoughts, he replied after another moment. "Honestly, I don't see talking as working all that well. I say we ready our reserves now, since they appear to be doing the same. Moreover, we should run 'combat exercises' to disguise redeployments near our borders."
The President nodded, looking somber. "Anyone else have anything to report?"
After a few moments of silence from the gathered people, he spoke up again once more. "Alright, then I will make this official. Commandant-General de Icaza, I hereby order you to ready our reserve troops; we'll probably need them from what you've told me earlier today. Additionally, you and your staff may coordinate redeployments as you see fit. My requirement you already know, but I'll say it anyway - Mexico must not strike first in this conflict. Our beloved Mexico must stay on the side of righteousness; if attacked, then we may attack in return with the full fury of all our Hosts, but only then."
The Commandant-General de Icaza nodded soberly, today's encounter with General Arrancar now furthest from his mind. Later, he would reflect on how utterly amazing that very fact was.
Summary: Reserves activated as of May 2nd, forces redeployment forthcoming
Last edited by rhoenix on Tue Jan 19, 2010 10:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
- William Gibson
- William Gibson
Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
#82
The Lord Protector watching with deterioration of the state at the world as it edges closer to war in all sides, calls upon the leaders of the world to remember Christ's words of to love one and another as we loved him. Leading to such deadly wars can only leave one figure as the victor, the devil.
The Lord Protector is willing to offer his services as a neutral third party mediator in both the gathering conflict in Europe, as well as the situation in North America between the United States and Mexico.
The Lord Protector is willing to offer his services as a neutral third party mediator in both the gathering conflict in Europe, as well as the situation in North America between the United States and Mexico.
The Admiral: A game of chess, my dear.
The Woman: I don't play.
The Admiral: You should learn. We're all pawns, my dear. -The Prisoner
The Woman: I don't play.
The Admiral: You should learn. We're all pawns, my dear. -The Prisoner
-
Cynical Cat
- Arch-Magician
- Posts: 11930
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- 19
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- Contact:
#83
"Welcome to Hungary, Hauptman," said the blond man in Hungarian uniform. "We've been sent down to reinforce the coast and protect your planes. It would be very embarrassing for His Majesty if his allies' possessions get broken while they are his guests."
"Thank you, sir" the aviator replied and saluted. "Your German is very good."
"It had better be," the other man replied. "I learned it from my mother and father. Colonel Paul Kaufmann at your service. My men have been serving in Transylvania, near the Saxon towns and as such even the non-Germans in our ranks have had reason to work on their language skills."
"That's good thinking Colonel."
"I know, and thus surprising that it comes from the General Staff but if a virgin can give birth to the Son of God then I suppose even that is possible. Me and my men will see you settled in. Even mess hall goulash is good, but I can promise you the Czech beer and German schnapps is better and I know just where to get a few bottles."
Summary: 1 Elite Mountain Division with Artillery and Field Artillery Regiments redeployed from Transylvania to Dalmatian Coast
"Thank you, sir" the aviator replied and saluted. "Your German is very good."
"It had better be," the other man replied. "I learned it from my mother and father. Colonel Paul Kaufmann at your service. My men have been serving in Transylvania, near the Saxon towns and as such even the non-Germans in our ranks have had reason to work on their language skills."
"That's good thinking Colonel."
"I know, and thus surprising that it comes from the General Staff but if a virgin can give birth to the Son of God then I suppose even that is possible. Me and my men will see you settled in. Even mess hall goulash is good, but I can promise you the Czech beer and German schnapps is better and I know just where to get a few bottles."
Summary: 1 Elite Mountain Division with Artillery and Field Artillery Regiments redeployed from Transylvania to Dalmatian Coast
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
#84
June 3, 1930
Tokyo, Empire of Japan
Prime Minister Osachi Hamaguchi sat at his desk, smiling calmly. The situation in the Philippines was getting worse. Rebel outfits were getting more organized, hitting targets better. It couldn't all be luck though, His Imperial Majesty had ordered that the matter be taken care of, and as such it would be. If the dissidents could not live under Japanese rule, than they would simply cease to live. The orders had been sent out last month, soon three more divisions of soldiers would be in the Philippines to route out the problem and kill it. There were leads of a few cells, but nothing big yet. Hamaguchi wasn't worried though, he had time. Russia's leader was sick and dying, Pacifica was more worried about the Americans, the Chinese were on the brink of war once again. The Klavo though, they were always a thorn in Japan's side. Soon they would be brushed aside like so many others though.
Summary
- In response to increasing rebellion in the Philippines, Japan is moving troops from the Homeland to the problem area to more effectively deal with the matter.
-----------------------------
May 5th, 1930
Urga, Mongolia
It had been a long and mostly very cold journey for Baron von Ungern-Sternberg, but at last the bureaucratic tape had been cut through and he was in the Capital city of the state of Mongolia as an honored guest. The Dalai Lama had yet to meet with him, but for the most part those he had met seemed happy to have him here. The Khan had been more than happy to give him a tour of the great Mongolian air fields and had seemed to be fascinated by the man's military prowess. The Khan seemed very eager to learn, and seemed to be expecting the Baron to be that teacher.
Summary
- Baron von Ungern-Sternberg has arrived in Mongolia at last, he has been very well responded to thus far.
------------------------------------
June 4th, 1930
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Tafari Makonnen began to dictate the message that would be sent to the Germans.
Furgun, Sudan
Haymanot's troops had crossed the border the day before, and now were marching on their first target, a relatively peaceful tribe, hopefully capitulation would be easy, and he would have a base of operations to start with. Other portions of his army were spread out across much of the Sudan/Ethiopia border, the diplomats in each portion were now busy talking to what friendly tribes there were and trying to convince them to ally with Ethiopia.
Summary
- In response to growing tension in Europe, Ethiopia has pulled out of the German Economic Summit.
- Haymanot has crossed the Sudanese border and has begun military action.
Tokyo, Empire of Japan
Prime Minister Osachi Hamaguchi sat at his desk, smiling calmly. The situation in the Philippines was getting worse. Rebel outfits were getting more organized, hitting targets better. It couldn't all be luck though, His Imperial Majesty had ordered that the matter be taken care of, and as such it would be. If the dissidents could not live under Japanese rule, than they would simply cease to live. The orders had been sent out last month, soon three more divisions of soldiers would be in the Philippines to route out the problem and kill it. There were leads of a few cells, but nothing big yet. Hamaguchi wasn't worried though, he had time. Russia's leader was sick and dying, Pacifica was more worried about the Americans, the Chinese were on the brink of war once again. The Klavo though, they were always a thorn in Japan's side. Soon they would be brushed aside like so many others though.
Summary
- In response to increasing rebellion in the Philippines, Japan is moving troops from the Homeland to the problem area to more effectively deal with the matter.
-----------------------------
May 5th, 1930
Urga, Mongolia
It had been a long and mostly very cold journey for Baron von Ungern-Sternberg, but at last the bureaucratic tape had been cut through and he was in the Capital city of the state of Mongolia as an honored guest. The Dalai Lama had yet to meet with him, but for the most part those he had met seemed happy to have him here. The Khan had been more than happy to give him a tour of the great Mongolian air fields and had seemed to be fascinated by the man's military prowess. The Khan seemed very eager to learn, and seemed to be expecting the Baron to be that teacher.
Summary
- Baron von Ungern-Sternberg has arrived in Mongolia at last, he has been very well responded to thus far.
------------------------------------
June 4th, 1930
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Tafari Makonnen began to dictate the message that would be sent to the Germans.
June 7, 1930From: The Illustrious Regent and King of the Empire of Ethiopia, Tafari Makonnen.
To: The Federal Republic of Germany
It is my unfortunate duty as the Imperial Regent of Ethiopia to inform you that due to the current situation in Europe, Ethiopia will not be in attendance of the Economic Summit that was planned. For point of fact, I am rather insulted that you wave the olive branch of peace and goodwill towards all mankind in one hand while in the other you openly aggravate the situation towards war in Europe. Your duplicitous nature in these past few months makes me also wonder as to the true nature of the Economic Summit, and considering your current status gives the impression that you are looking to further your own agendas, discarding good will towards men and the teachings of Christ in favor of continuing your agenda against Rome.
Should the situation in Europe calm down, Ethiopia shall reconsider it's position on this matter.
May Christ guide you to the right decision.
Furgun, Sudan
Haymanot's troops had crossed the border the day before, and now were marching on their first target, a relatively peaceful tribe, hopefully capitulation would be easy, and he would have a base of operations to start with. Other portions of his army were spread out across much of the Sudan/Ethiopia border, the diplomats in each portion were now busy talking to what friendly tribes there were and trying to convince them to ally with Ethiopia.
Summary
- In response to growing tension in Europe, Ethiopia has pulled out of the German Economic Summit.
- Haymanot has crossed the Sudanese border and has begun military action.
Last edited by Charon on Mon Jan 18, 2010 12:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
Moderator of Philosophy and Theology
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#85
Spain, Lisbon
June 4th 1930 local time
The nation had been uneasy the whole month. Clashes between police and anarchists were common as were roving squads of men in black shirts. The squads attacked people. Jews, bankers, anarchists, blaming them for Spain's loses in the wars against Rome. For the lost of Empire. For the Unrest.
Last night they had cornered a pair of young men, college students who had been passing out anarchist pamphlets and beaten them to death with clubs and chains. The police hadn't arrested anyone.
Because of that 6 young men were in a basement, assembling a bomb.
"You're sure this will work?" Whispered one. There was no reason to whisper but the sheer magnitude of their actions weighed on him.
"Yeah, we hit the police station, after that, Emilio and his friends will hit the bar were those pigs are drinking and celebrating getting away with murder." Replied an older one.
"Still, if we get caught..." continued the first one.
"If we do nothing, they'll keep beating us to death in the streets in board daylight!" Hissed a different man. The men nodded. Things had to be done.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2245 local time
The bombs ripped through the capital of the Kingdom and set off a fresh set of riots. Through out the week riots and confrontations between the authorities and both sets of extremists would escalate and rise. The summer only got hotter.
June 4th 1930 local time
The nation had been uneasy the whole month. Clashes between police and anarchists were common as were roving squads of men in black shirts. The squads attacked people. Jews, bankers, anarchists, blaming them for Spain's loses in the wars against Rome. For the lost of Empire. For the Unrest.
Last night they had cornered a pair of young men, college students who had been passing out anarchist pamphlets and beaten them to death with clubs and chains. The police hadn't arrested anyone.
Because of that 6 young men were in a basement, assembling a bomb.
"You're sure this will work?" Whispered one. There was no reason to whisper but the sheer magnitude of their actions weighed on him.
"Yeah, we hit the police station, after that, Emilio and his friends will hit the bar were those pigs are drinking and celebrating getting away with murder." Replied an older one.
"Still, if we get caught..." continued the first one.
"If we do nothing, they'll keep beating us to death in the streets in board daylight!" Hissed a different man. The men nodded. Things had to be done.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2245 local time
The bombs ripped through the capital of the Kingdom and set off a fresh set of riots. Through out the week riots and confrontations between the authorities and both sets of extremists would escalate and rise. The summer only got hotter.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
#86
Mid-Afternoon.
January 17, 1930
Winter Palace,
Sankt-Peterburg,
Rossiya
Cold winter light streamed through office windows overlooking the frozen Neva River and the snow-covered Petropavlovskaya Fortress. A woman of above average height, appearing to be in her late 20s, with light chesnut hair and bright blue eyes, sat on a broad chair with its back to the windows. She intently studied a sheaf of papers held up to the sunlight with her left hand, while the right hand occasionally scribbled on the notepaper atop the heavy pine desk before her.
(At age 16)
The sound of a moving door and boots on the floor alerted her to someone entering without being announced, but she kept reading and scribbling with nary a twitch of acknowledgement. After a few minutes she finally finished, put her pen down, and looked up at the recent arrival. He was a man of about her age, short and pale with a prematurely receding hairline, square-cut mouth, and bulging eyes behind rimless pince-nez glasses. His expression was an odd mix of self-satisfaction, irony, and obsequiousness.
"Olga Nikolayevna," the newcomer spoke, acknowledging her gaze.
"Lavrentiy Pavlovich," she replied evenly, "do sit down."
He crossed the room, seated himself across from her, and began without preamble, "Did you read the documentation on Mongol'skiya Operatsiya I obtained?"
"I did, and I like it not."
"You find it too," he paused a moment to search for a word, "unscrupulous?"
A fire flashed in the woman's eyes and her voice became sharp, "I am the Naslednika Tsesarevna, soon to be Imperatritsa i Avtocrat Vserossiyskiya. Worry not about my scruples Lavrentiy Pavlovich, I can't afford any. My objection is that it is incredibly risky. Grandfather and that fool Stolypin have let GRU and Okhrana run away with themselves. You'd think they might have learned some caution after that disastrous business in the mountains, but no instead they rush straight into another crazy plot. I grant that this one is better thought out, their scheme may very well succeed and grant the Rodina tremendous influence, even outright dominion, over Mongoliya. Yet there is also a non-trivial chance that it will cause the whole of Kitay to blow up in our faces."
"What would you have me do?" Lavrentiy Pavlovich shrugged, "It's not within my means to stop it."
"And if it were, I would not have you try. Things are delicate enough without us sabotaging our own side, so I have no intention of interfering for now." She opened a drawer, reached in, pulled out a black folder, and passed it across the desk. "There is the plan in case the shit hits the fan. Read it, remember it, and then pray that you never have to implement it."
He took the folder, nodding. "There is another matter that requires your attention."
The Tsesarevna motioned him to go ahead.
"It would appear that our Gossudar's mind remains steadfast against the ravages of age. Three days ago he met with Chief Gerasimov and talked with him for a some time. The next morning I lost one of my men on the inside. He was summarily dismissed without explanation, and permanently barred from holding security clearance."
She considered his words for a moment then observed, "If His Majesty had to tip the Okhrana himself, then he must have a source of information that they don't." It was probably someone in her staff, but rather than say it she instead asked, "Any thoughts as to who?"
"I don't have to think, I know. Some of our people are actually his people, and he's been using them to keep an eye on you."
"Has he now? How did you come to that conclusion?"
"Well, at first I thought it was you. I was going to debrief my agent, but then I realized that it is too convenient that he was only let go. They have to be watching him, and if I send in his handler the both of them would be arrested. Then they might have enough to dismantle my whole operation. Since the Imperator wouldn't be moving against you - not after all these years - I concluded that it's a snare to trap me, specifically. My suspicions were confirmed upon my noticing that I had acquired some extra shadows. I thought perhaps you had grown to suspect me and my motives, but then I realized that this sort of set up is just not your style. If you wanted to be rid of me you'd have done it yourself."
Lavrentiy Pavlovich did not say that he also had conducted inquiries in case his boss had changed her style. Olga Nikolayevna did not say that she knew all about those inquiries, and could have made them say anything she wanted. Lavrentiy Pavolovich also neglected to add that he knew she knew and could have taken her influence into account. Olga Nikolayevna knew he could have, but considered the game to be well worth the effort. Their working relationship was all the more effective so long as they both felt confident that one couldn't effectively manipulate the other.
"Therefore," he continued, "our staff had to have been compromised. I quickly reviewed who knew what, and how it could have been used to link my man to my self. A list of suspects thus assembled, I had the remaining trusted assets start digging. They were able confirm that at least one of my suspects is an agent of the Tsar, but have yet to determine which one. It's going to take a while to assemble the necessary data to clear or expose all the suspect personnel. It will take yet more time to clear the non-suspect personnel. It may be necessary to await more security breaches. I will be slowly shifting uncleared suspects to more dispensable tasks to keep such breaches from being anything more than an annoyance."
"Excellent, I commend your efforts," the Tsesarevna said sincerely. "That just leaves the matter of why exactly his Majesty has attacked my intelligence operations. He openly dislikes you, and questions the wisdom of having one so young hold such a sensitive position, but he also trusts my judgement enough that he rarely forces his will on mine. It doesn't make sense for him to be trying to take you down. Even if he were, it doesn't feel right. This is all too... half-assed. If he really wanted you out of the picture, you'd be arrested and I'd be in Gatchina lodging a protest."
Really, it's probably just a sort of test, she thought. Something to keep me and my staff on our toes; an opportunity to learn a few lessons and run a tighter ship. It has somewhat succeeded in that, at least, but I'm still going to have to express my irritation at him taking time out to play such games with- wait... fuck.
"...so I concur," Lavrentiy Pavlovich was saying, "Perhaps it is a test? A minor crisis from-"
She rasied her hand to cut him off, "Whatever the reason, we have a bigger problem. His Majesty was't using Okhrana agents, and in wondering over the security breach I almost ignored the implications. If there is another secret police outside of the Okhrana, then it could cause considerable trouble. The last thing I need after his Majesty passes on is a Chambre étoilée with no leash. This has to be dealt with immediately."
"Oh, that. I know who they are, and it's not the Chancellery's Third Section brought back from the grave, if that's your concern. His agents are all Okhrana, from a small group that reports directly to His Majesty. It's been difficult to find out much about them, so I can only hypothesize that they're an internal oversight unit. Recent events suggest that they also have other duties. However, while their actions are secret, the membership is not. They can easily be detained and disbanded if necessary."
"I see," she said with a wan smile. "Not much gets past you, does it?" A girlish giggle as the tension flowed out of her, "Have you considered that knowing too much can be dangerous?"
Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria smirked, "Somebody has to know where all the bodies are buried."
"Really? I seem to recall the Persians having a rather different opinion on that matter."
His smirk grew wider, "I also know where those bodies are buried."
She threw here hands up in mock exasperation, "You're hopeless!
"I'm good at my job."
"Yes, that you are."
January 17, 1930
Winter Palace,
Sankt-Peterburg,
Rossiya
Cold winter light streamed through office windows overlooking the frozen Neva River and the snow-covered Petropavlovskaya Fortress. A woman of above average height, appearing to be in her late 20s, with light chesnut hair and bright blue eyes, sat on a broad chair with its back to the windows. She intently studied a sheaf of papers held up to the sunlight with her left hand, while the right hand occasionally scribbled on the notepaper atop the heavy pine desk before her.
(At age 16)
The sound of a moving door and boots on the floor alerted her to someone entering without being announced, but she kept reading and scribbling with nary a twitch of acknowledgement. After a few minutes she finally finished, put her pen down, and looked up at the recent arrival. He was a man of about her age, short and pale with a prematurely receding hairline, square-cut mouth, and bulging eyes behind rimless pince-nez glasses. His expression was an odd mix of self-satisfaction, irony, and obsequiousness.
"Olga Nikolayevna," the newcomer spoke, acknowledging her gaze.
"Lavrentiy Pavlovich," she replied evenly, "do sit down."
He crossed the room, seated himself across from her, and began without preamble, "Did you read the documentation on Mongol'skiya Operatsiya I obtained?"
"I did, and I like it not."
"You find it too," he paused a moment to search for a word, "unscrupulous?"
A fire flashed in the woman's eyes and her voice became sharp, "I am the Naslednika Tsesarevna, soon to be Imperatritsa i Avtocrat Vserossiyskiya. Worry not about my scruples Lavrentiy Pavlovich, I can't afford any. My objection is that it is incredibly risky. Grandfather and that fool Stolypin have let GRU and Okhrana run away with themselves. You'd think they might have learned some caution after that disastrous business in the mountains, but no instead they rush straight into another crazy plot. I grant that this one is better thought out, their scheme may very well succeed and grant the Rodina tremendous influence, even outright dominion, over Mongoliya. Yet there is also a non-trivial chance that it will cause the whole of Kitay to blow up in our faces."
"What would you have me do?" Lavrentiy Pavlovich shrugged, "It's not within my means to stop it."
"And if it were, I would not have you try. Things are delicate enough without us sabotaging our own side, so I have no intention of interfering for now." She opened a drawer, reached in, pulled out a black folder, and passed it across the desk. "There is the plan in case the shit hits the fan. Read it, remember it, and then pray that you never have to implement it."
He took the folder, nodding. "There is another matter that requires your attention."
The Tsesarevna motioned him to go ahead.
"It would appear that our Gossudar's mind remains steadfast against the ravages of age. Three days ago he met with Chief Gerasimov and talked with him for a some time. The next morning I lost one of my men on the inside. He was summarily dismissed without explanation, and permanently barred from holding security clearance."
She considered his words for a moment then observed, "If His Majesty had to tip the Okhrana himself, then he must have a source of information that they don't." It was probably someone in her staff, but rather than say it she instead asked, "Any thoughts as to who?"
"I don't have to think, I know. Some of our people are actually his people, and he's been using them to keep an eye on you."
"Has he now? How did you come to that conclusion?"
"Well, at first I thought it was you. I was going to debrief my agent, but then I realized that it is too convenient that he was only let go. They have to be watching him, and if I send in his handler the both of them would be arrested. Then they might have enough to dismantle my whole operation. Since the Imperator wouldn't be moving against you - not after all these years - I concluded that it's a snare to trap me, specifically. My suspicions were confirmed upon my noticing that I had acquired some extra shadows. I thought perhaps you had grown to suspect me and my motives, but then I realized that this sort of set up is just not your style. If you wanted to be rid of me you'd have done it yourself."
Lavrentiy Pavlovich did not say that he also had conducted inquiries in case his boss had changed her style. Olga Nikolayevna did not say that she knew all about those inquiries, and could have made them say anything she wanted. Lavrentiy Pavolovich also neglected to add that he knew she knew and could have taken her influence into account. Olga Nikolayevna knew he could have, but considered the game to be well worth the effort. Their working relationship was all the more effective so long as they both felt confident that one couldn't effectively manipulate the other.
"Therefore," he continued, "our staff had to have been compromised. I quickly reviewed who knew what, and how it could have been used to link my man to my self. A list of suspects thus assembled, I had the remaining trusted assets start digging. They were able confirm that at least one of my suspects is an agent of the Tsar, but have yet to determine which one. It's going to take a while to assemble the necessary data to clear or expose all the suspect personnel. It will take yet more time to clear the non-suspect personnel. It may be necessary to await more security breaches. I will be slowly shifting uncleared suspects to more dispensable tasks to keep such breaches from being anything more than an annoyance."
"Excellent, I commend your efforts," the Tsesarevna said sincerely. "That just leaves the matter of why exactly his Majesty has attacked my intelligence operations. He openly dislikes you, and questions the wisdom of having one so young hold such a sensitive position, but he also trusts my judgement enough that he rarely forces his will on mine. It doesn't make sense for him to be trying to take you down. Even if he were, it doesn't feel right. This is all too... half-assed. If he really wanted you out of the picture, you'd be arrested and I'd be in Gatchina lodging a protest."
Really, it's probably just a sort of test, she thought. Something to keep me and my staff on our toes; an opportunity to learn a few lessons and run a tighter ship. It has somewhat succeeded in that, at least, but I'm still going to have to express my irritation at him taking time out to play such games with- wait... fuck.
"...so I concur," Lavrentiy Pavlovich was saying, "Perhaps it is a test? A minor crisis from-"
She rasied her hand to cut him off, "Whatever the reason, we have a bigger problem. His Majesty was't using Okhrana agents, and in wondering over the security breach I almost ignored the implications. If there is another secret police outside of the Okhrana, then it could cause considerable trouble. The last thing I need after his Majesty passes on is a Chambre étoilée with no leash. This has to be dealt with immediately."
"Oh, that. I know who they are, and it's not the Chancellery's Third Section brought back from the grave, if that's your concern. His agents are all Okhrana, from a small group that reports directly to His Majesty. It's been difficult to find out much about them, so I can only hypothesize that they're an internal oversight unit. Recent events suggest that they also have other duties. However, while their actions are secret, the membership is not. They can easily be detained and disbanded if necessary."
"I see," she said with a wan smile. "Not much gets past you, does it?" A girlish giggle as the tension flowed out of her, "Have you considered that knowing too much can be dangerous?"
Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria smirked, "Somebody has to know where all the bodies are buried."
"Really? I seem to recall the Persians having a rather different opinion on that matter."
His smirk grew wider, "I also know where those bodies are buried."
She threw here hands up in mock exasperation, "You're hopeless!
"I'm good at my job."
"Yes, that you are."
Last edited by Hadrianvs on Mon Jan 18, 2010 10:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
#87
SS Atlantic, North Atlantic Ocean
23 May 1930
The North Atlantic was calm, as it sometimes could be, as the liner Atlantic continued on its course from New York to Hamburg. Standing on one of the luxury decks, a 64 year old man from Cascadia puffed at a cigar (unaware of the small cancer in his lungs that would be detectable only in the coming months) and enjoyed the late spring air coming off the ocean. They were approaching the Continent, soon to swing south through the English Channel and up to their destination. There Bruce Mencken, former Pacifican President of the Board of Trade and Member of Parliament, would get to visit yet again the homeland of his great-grandparents. He had left with the prospect of enjoying the German capital, the cafes with their fresh sausages and fine beer, while joining this "economic summit".
That prospect looked darker, however, with the thunder of war coming over the horizon. Already the Foreign Office had sent him a note by telegraph, catching him just before he'd embarked the Atlantic, to inform him that in the event of war he should await further instruction via the Embassy in Hamburg and Ambassador de Tavira's office before committing to any desired German economic terms in the negotiations. Instead of a boisterous, loud republican city where a member of the American elite could easily fit in with just a passing familiarity with French or German (Latin was literally verboten for anti-Roman powers Mencken had learned in prior trips to Europe), two languages he commanded respectably, he would be faced with a city facing wartime rationing, the danger of long range Roman bomber raids, and the apprehension in the streets from knowing their sons were at the front fighting the Legions of Rome, every bit as fierce today as they were in antiquity.
The goal of Pacifica in the summit was clear; to promote peace, open trade over the seas, and to determine how assertive Germany was becoming in world affairs, as its possession of the southern tip of Africa was such that it was of interest to Pacifican interests. Mencken, with his prior European visits and contacts under his belt, could quickly ascertain the nature of things and report them home to the Foreign Office, providing Pacifica with an idea of how to deal with distant Europe and its potential effects upon areas closer to home.
Caroline Palace, Sacramento
1 June 1930
It was with the work week ending that Stephen opted to make a visit to the Caroline Palace, to brief the King on issues to come in the monthly Privy Council meeting. It was one of those few times that he got to see the King alone, the Queen having left to travel to Klamath to tend to her sickly mother. It was a rare but welcome occasion to have the Queen absent, as loathe as Stephen was to admit it, as without her idealistic, optimistic attitudes to impact Alexander's thinking the King was refreshingly rational about things.
The dominant issue was the mobilization of the US. The issue had Pacifica in an uproar. As much as Mexico was seen as a greater threat due to geography - it was easier to get to the Californian and Cascadian heartlands of the American half of the Empire through the deserts of Arizona and Sonora than the mountains of Utah and New Scotland - a growing number of people were wondering if the US was using the issue of Southern revanchists and racial terrorists as a justification for a war to seize territory from Mexico, an act of aggression they might duplicate with the Empire to achieve a direct land connection to the Pacific. Certainly it was considered logical for the US to wish to reclaim New Orleans and sole control of the Mississippi River and nobody in Pacifica would bat an eye at such a success (as much as control of such was good for Mexico, it was an "acceptable" goal of US arms as well); it was, however, uncertain how far the US would try to advance, if it could do so, and what a great Yank success would mean for Pacifica. Certainly it could not accept a radical change in the balance of power, but Pacifica's leadership was unready for war, favoring reserving the national energy for internal matters of infrastructure refurbishment and economic recovery and directing attention to the ever-important issue of monitoring the actions of Klavostan and Japan in the Far East's delicate power structure.
With the discussion having gravitated toward these issues, the King began to look out the window. "You're happy it's just me, aren't you?", he asked pointedly.
"Your Majesty?"
Turning to face Stephen, Alexander gestured toward the sofa. "Larissa is away. You're happy she is and you and I can talk alone." He brought up a hand. "Don't bother protesting, it's quite understandable. It's...." He seemed to struggle for the words he wanted to use. "I know that you and the Cabinet make so many excellent points on issues, realistic goals and plans. Larissa, my dear Queen, she thinks so differently. She wants to do the right thing even if it's got not a hope of succeeding, simply because it is right. And when she speaks to me, it makes my heart grow with the ideals we share, the desire to do things because they are right and not because they are easy. Just like this peace conference idea we tried and which ended so badly...."
Desiring to be honest, in more ways than one, and a bit careful, the PM drew in a breath before answering Alexander. "Her Majesty sees the world as it should be," Stephen stated. "We, sadly, must deal with the world as it is. Which means dealing with the Yanks spoiling for a fight with Mexico or the Japanese acting brutishly in the Philippines."
"Yes, about that. These reports of executions of Christian missionaries and converts, attempting to impose Emperor worship upon the Christians of Luzon even as the Japanese treat them as slaves, this was not what my grandfather and the Government of his day had in mind for the fate of the Philippines when they accepted Japanese control at Stockholm! Can we do nothing about it?"
"The Foreign Office will issue protests that the suppression of Christian rights violates certain guarantees made at Stockholm, but I don't think it will result in anything. Nothing short of war will dissuade Japan from its goals, Your Majesty. In fact, I must admit from reading reports from the Foreign Office that I am contemplating whether we should change a quarter-century of policy."
"You mean in considering the Japanese as potential allies against the Klavostanis instead of as mutual enemies with the Russians?"
"Yes. Klavostan has not roused itself in our direction in many years. Whether they are content with the outcome of the last war or not remains to be seen but certainly they are playing a role in the unending Moro revolt in the Philippines. Their focus seems to be north, not east, and we should take this into account."
"What about rapproachment?" Alexander gestured toward a map of the Pacific on the far wall. "Are there any outstanding territorial claims that need be settled? I would much prefer securing Australia and the South Pacific..."
"They have always been uneasy with our holdings in the Carolines, but if Your Majesty wishes me to ascertain further, I can have Lord Baden-Grey send appropriate instructions to Lord Helmsmith to feel out Klavostani sentiments. Whether they will reciprocate or not cannot be known but it may be worth a try. Oh, and on the issue of foreign affairs, the Ethiopians have extended invitations for the attendance of their new Emperor's formal coronation on the 2nd of November. I figured that Prince Harold might be interested in representing you, Sydney is a lot closer Addis Ababa than we are..."
"Ethiopia?" Alexander seemed to think for a moment, and clearly not about the fitness of his uncle (Prince Harold, Duke of New Kent, was the younger brother of Alexander's father and well into his fifties, third in a series of five sons that James V had in his lifetime) to journey to Addis Ababa. "I have always contemplated visiting the lands of Africa and getting to know them, and Ethiopia has a certain appeal. One of tne of the oldest branches of Christendom, never conquered by the Muslims in their time of ascendancy before the Roman Renassiance? That would be very interesting."
That prompted the Prime Minister's interest, and a perfunctory protest. "Your Majesty, given the world situation I am reluctant to see you out of the capital..."
"Twenty years ago you'd have a good reason, Mr. Garrett, but in this era of the radiograph? I will not be out of touch at any time. And it may do the Empire good to make such a gesture. Ethiopia's control of Ceylon and of borderlands adjoining the Gulf of Aden make it a state to be treated with great respect."
How true was the Prime Minister's consideration of the reply. "If it is safe enough, Your Majesty, then I think the Government can support it, but I would like to consult with the Cabinet first." Stephen already considered their reactions and knew that a number of them would be displeased, though the prospect of strong relations with Ethiopia would delight the Foreign Office and the Admiralty, which by din of Australia had to keep an eye on Indian Ocean affairs. Thinking of Australia immediately led him to a further idea that might win wider support in the Cabinet. "As it stands your argument is most persuasive, though I would add to it that if you were to travel so far you should do more than just attend the Ethiopian coronation. As I recall, your grandfather was the last to make a Royal visit to the South Pacific Kingdoms. A quarter century is a long time and for you to visit Australia and Zealandia would do much to maintain the ties of the Empire."
That won Alexander's attention. "You are correct. And Hawai'i is along the way, I would very much like to meet King David in Honolulu. But how long can I stay out of the Capitol, feasibly? Parliament will be due to start session in November as well."
"Later November, Your Majesty, at the earliest. We could even delay the formal opening until your return if you are delayed in returning or, if necessary due to emergency, get the Duke of York" - the Duke of York being another uncle of Alexander, Prince Henry, the fourth son of James V - "to open Parliament in your stead. But I would think three weeks on a good ship sufficient time to get you home from Africa."
"The James and Caroline is capable of 18 knots at a good clip," Alexander stated from memory.
"Honestly, Your Majesty, the Royal Navy will probably be quite insistent upon sending you aboard a proper flagship...."
The Los Angeles Times
5 June 1930 Edition
The stories on various pages spoke of the increasing tensions around the world. The prospect of imminent American war dominated the front page, with reports from journalists living in Mexico City and Washington D.C. reporting on annoucements and statements from those two capitals. Other regions got their due: One item remarked upon the imminent start of the German trade summit and questioned its feasibility in the international climate that Germany was helping to foster. Roman troop movements and their reaction to the leak of the Franco-German terms to the Hungarians on territorial gains against Rome was also mentioned and, to a degree, criticized. An Op Ed criticized harshly the Garrett Liberals' "passivity" in the face of "brutality and atrocity on a scale unfathomable to civilized minds" concerning Japanese behavior toward Filipino Christians. A small piece in a corner on foreign stories spoke of the Foreign Secretary personally issuing a protest to the Japanese Embassy regarding the oppression of religious populations in the Philippines. The small article ended with a footnote about Government statements of concern over Japanese reinforcements to the islands, even if it seemed intended to fight the Moro rebellion.
Across the Empire, an elite that favored peace and open trade continued to grow fearful of a world that seemed to be rushing toward armed conflict. The only bright spot, for some, seemed to be a statement from the Prime Minister's Office about the Government approving the concept of King Alexander and his wife making a Royal visit to Australia and Zealandia later in the year, with timing that would permit them to attend the crowning of the new Ethiopian Emperor. The prospect of Pacifica improving relations with the states of the Indian Ocean seemed a welcome contrast to news of tensions in the Far East and Europe.
Summary
The Pacifican mission to Hamburg and German trade summit is also meant to gauge the situation in Europe for the benefit of the Home Office. Mister Mencken is under orders not to commit Pacifica to any binding deals if war does erupt; generally the Foreign Office has become pessimistic as to if the summit will achieve anything.
King Alexander and Prime Minister Garrett contemplate changes to Pacifican foreign policy in light of latest Japanese outrages against Filipino Christians. The King also expressed his desire to attend the coronation of Tafari Makonnen, Crown Regent of Ethiopia, as Emperor of Ethiopia on the 2nd of November. His trip there will likely be the culmination of a Royal Visit to Hawai'i, Zealandia, and Australia.
Pacifica is concerned by Japanese reinforcement of the Philippines, since it could mean the ability to attack the western Carolines and an improved capacity against Guam.
23 May 1930
The North Atlantic was calm, as it sometimes could be, as the liner Atlantic continued on its course from New York to Hamburg. Standing on one of the luxury decks, a 64 year old man from Cascadia puffed at a cigar (unaware of the small cancer in his lungs that would be detectable only in the coming months) and enjoyed the late spring air coming off the ocean. They were approaching the Continent, soon to swing south through the English Channel and up to their destination. There Bruce Mencken, former Pacifican President of the Board of Trade and Member of Parliament, would get to visit yet again the homeland of his great-grandparents. He had left with the prospect of enjoying the German capital, the cafes with their fresh sausages and fine beer, while joining this "economic summit".
That prospect looked darker, however, with the thunder of war coming over the horizon. Already the Foreign Office had sent him a note by telegraph, catching him just before he'd embarked the Atlantic, to inform him that in the event of war he should await further instruction via the Embassy in Hamburg and Ambassador de Tavira's office before committing to any desired German economic terms in the negotiations. Instead of a boisterous, loud republican city where a member of the American elite could easily fit in with just a passing familiarity with French or German (Latin was literally verboten for anti-Roman powers Mencken had learned in prior trips to Europe), two languages he commanded respectably, he would be faced with a city facing wartime rationing, the danger of long range Roman bomber raids, and the apprehension in the streets from knowing their sons were at the front fighting the Legions of Rome, every bit as fierce today as they were in antiquity.
The goal of Pacifica in the summit was clear; to promote peace, open trade over the seas, and to determine how assertive Germany was becoming in world affairs, as its possession of the southern tip of Africa was such that it was of interest to Pacifican interests. Mencken, with his prior European visits and contacts under his belt, could quickly ascertain the nature of things and report them home to the Foreign Office, providing Pacifica with an idea of how to deal with distant Europe and its potential effects upon areas closer to home.
Caroline Palace, Sacramento
1 June 1930
It was with the work week ending that Stephen opted to make a visit to the Caroline Palace, to brief the King on issues to come in the monthly Privy Council meeting. It was one of those few times that he got to see the King alone, the Queen having left to travel to Klamath to tend to her sickly mother. It was a rare but welcome occasion to have the Queen absent, as loathe as Stephen was to admit it, as without her idealistic, optimistic attitudes to impact Alexander's thinking the King was refreshingly rational about things.
The dominant issue was the mobilization of the US. The issue had Pacifica in an uproar. As much as Mexico was seen as a greater threat due to geography - it was easier to get to the Californian and Cascadian heartlands of the American half of the Empire through the deserts of Arizona and Sonora than the mountains of Utah and New Scotland - a growing number of people were wondering if the US was using the issue of Southern revanchists and racial terrorists as a justification for a war to seize territory from Mexico, an act of aggression they might duplicate with the Empire to achieve a direct land connection to the Pacific. Certainly it was considered logical for the US to wish to reclaim New Orleans and sole control of the Mississippi River and nobody in Pacifica would bat an eye at such a success (as much as control of such was good for Mexico, it was an "acceptable" goal of US arms as well); it was, however, uncertain how far the US would try to advance, if it could do so, and what a great Yank success would mean for Pacifica. Certainly it could not accept a radical change in the balance of power, but Pacifica's leadership was unready for war, favoring reserving the national energy for internal matters of infrastructure refurbishment and economic recovery and directing attention to the ever-important issue of monitoring the actions of Klavostan and Japan in the Far East's delicate power structure.
With the discussion having gravitated toward these issues, the King began to look out the window. "You're happy it's just me, aren't you?", he asked pointedly.
"Your Majesty?"
Turning to face Stephen, Alexander gestured toward the sofa. "Larissa is away. You're happy she is and you and I can talk alone." He brought up a hand. "Don't bother protesting, it's quite understandable. It's...." He seemed to struggle for the words he wanted to use. "I know that you and the Cabinet make so many excellent points on issues, realistic goals and plans. Larissa, my dear Queen, she thinks so differently. She wants to do the right thing even if it's got not a hope of succeeding, simply because it is right. And when she speaks to me, it makes my heart grow with the ideals we share, the desire to do things because they are right and not because they are easy. Just like this peace conference idea we tried and which ended so badly...."
Desiring to be honest, in more ways than one, and a bit careful, the PM drew in a breath before answering Alexander. "Her Majesty sees the world as it should be," Stephen stated. "We, sadly, must deal with the world as it is. Which means dealing with the Yanks spoiling for a fight with Mexico or the Japanese acting brutishly in the Philippines."
"Yes, about that. These reports of executions of Christian missionaries and converts, attempting to impose Emperor worship upon the Christians of Luzon even as the Japanese treat them as slaves, this was not what my grandfather and the Government of his day had in mind for the fate of the Philippines when they accepted Japanese control at Stockholm! Can we do nothing about it?"
"The Foreign Office will issue protests that the suppression of Christian rights violates certain guarantees made at Stockholm, but I don't think it will result in anything. Nothing short of war will dissuade Japan from its goals, Your Majesty. In fact, I must admit from reading reports from the Foreign Office that I am contemplating whether we should change a quarter-century of policy."
"You mean in considering the Japanese as potential allies against the Klavostanis instead of as mutual enemies with the Russians?"
"Yes. Klavostan has not roused itself in our direction in many years. Whether they are content with the outcome of the last war or not remains to be seen but certainly they are playing a role in the unending Moro revolt in the Philippines. Their focus seems to be north, not east, and we should take this into account."
"What about rapproachment?" Alexander gestured toward a map of the Pacific on the far wall. "Are there any outstanding territorial claims that need be settled? I would much prefer securing Australia and the South Pacific..."
"They have always been uneasy with our holdings in the Carolines, but if Your Majesty wishes me to ascertain further, I can have Lord Baden-Grey send appropriate instructions to Lord Helmsmith to feel out Klavostani sentiments. Whether they will reciprocate or not cannot be known but it may be worth a try. Oh, and on the issue of foreign affairs, the Ethiopians have extended invitations for the attendance of their new Emperor's formal coronation on the 2nd of November. I figured that Prince Harold might be interested in representing you, Sydney is a lot closer Addis Ababa than we are..."
"Ethiopia?" Alexander seemed to think for a moment, and clearly not about the fitness of his uncle (Prince Harold, Duke of New Kent, was the younger brother of Alexander's father and well into his fifties, third in a series of five sons that James V had in his lifetime) to journey to Addis Ababa. "I have always contemplated visiting the lands of Africa and getting to know them, and Ethiopia has a certain appeal. One of tne of the oldest branches of Christendom, never conquered by the Muslims in their time of ascendancy before the Roman Renassiance? That would be very interesting."
That prompted the Prime Minister's interest, and a perfunctory protest. "Your Majesty, given the world situation I am reluctant to see you out of the capital..."
"Twenty years ago you'd have a good reason, Mr. Garrett, but in this era of the radiograph? I will not be out of touch at any time. And it may do the Empire good to make such a gesture. Ethiopia's control of Ceylon and of borderlands adjoining the Gulf of Aden make it a state to be treated with great respect."
How true was the Prime Minister's consideration of the reply. "If it is safe enough, Your Majesty, then I think the Government can support it, but I would like to consult with the Cabinet first." Stephen already considered their reactions and knew that a number of them would be displeased, though the prospect of strong relations with Ethiopia would delight the Foreign Office and the Admiralty, which by din of Australia had to keep an eye on Indian Ocean affairs. Thinking of Australia immediately led him to a further idea that might win wider support in the Cabinet. "As it stands your argument is most persuasive, though I would add to it that if you were to travel so far you should do more than just attend the Ethiopian coronation. As I recall, your grandfather was the last to make a Royal visit to the South Pacific Kingdoms. A quarter century is a long time and for you to visit Australia and Zealandia would do much to maintain the ties of the Empire."
That won Alexander's attention. "You are correct. And Hawai'i is along the way, I would very much like to meet King David in Honolulu. But how long can I stay out of the Capitol, feasibly? Parliament will be due to start session in November as well."
"Later November, Your Majesty, at the earliest. We could even delay the formal opening until your return if you are delayed in returning or, if necessary due to emergency, get the Duke of York" - the Duke of York being another uncle of Alexander, Prince Henry, the fourth son of James V - "to open Parliament in your stead. But I would think three weeks on a good ship sufficient time to get you home from Africa."
"The James and Caroline is capable of 18 knots at a good clip," Alexander stated from memory.
"Honestly, Your Majesty, the Royal Navy will probably be quite insistent upon sending you aboard a proper flagship...."
The Los Angeles Times
5 June 1930 Edition
The stories on various pages spoke of the increasing tensions around the world. The prospect of imminent American war dominated the front page, with reports from journalists living in Mexico City and Washington D.C. reporting on annoucements and statements from those two capitals. Other regions got their due: One item remarked upon the imminent start of the German trade summit and questioned its feasibility in the international climate that Germany was helping to foster. Roman troop movements and their reaction to the leak of the Franco-German terms to the Hungarians on territorial gains against Rome was also mentioned and, to a degree, criticized. An Op Ed criticized harshly the Garrett Liberals' "passivity" in the face of "brutality and atrocity on a scale unfathomable to civilized minds" concerning Japanese behavior toward Filipino Christians. A small piece in a corner on foreign stories spoke of the Foreign Secretary personally issuing a protest to the Japanese Embassy regarding the oppression of religious populations in the Philippines. The small article ended with a footnote about Government statements of concern over Japanese reinforcements to the islands, even if it seemed intended to fight the Moro rebellion.
Across the Empire, an elite that favored peace and open trade continued to grow fearful of a world that seemed to be rushing toward armed conflict. The only bright spot, for some, seemed to be a statement from the Prime Minister's Office about the Government approving the concept of King Alexander and his wife making a Royal visit to Australia and Zealandia later in the year, with timing that would permit them to attend the crowning of the new Ethiopian Emperor. The prospect of Pacifica improving relations with the states of the Indian Ocean seemed a welcome contrast to news of tensions in the Far East and Europe.
Summary
The Pacifican mission to Hamburg and German trade summit is also meant to gauge the situation in Europe for the benefit of the Home Office. Mister Mencken is under orders not to commit Pacifica to any binding deals if war does erupt; generally the Foreign Office has become pessimistic as to if the summit will achieve anything.
King Alexander and Prime Minister Garrett contemplate changes to Pacifican foreign policy in light of latest Japanese outrages against Filipino Christians. The King also expressed his desire to attend the coronation of Tafari Makonnen, Crown Regent of Ethiopia, as Emperor of Ethiopia on the 2nd of November. His trip there will likely be the culmination of a Royal Visit to Hawai'i, Zealandia, and Australia.
Pacifica is concerned by Japanese reinforcement of the Philippines, since it could mean the ability to attack the western Carolines and an improved capacity against Guam.
Chatniks on the (nonexistant) risks of the Large Hadron Collector:
"The chance of Shep talking his way into the control room for an ICBM is probably higher than that." - Seth
"Come on, who wouldn't trade a few dozen square miles of French countryside for Warp 3.5?" - Marina
"The chance of Shep talking his way into the control room for an ICBM is probably higher than that." - Seth
"Come on, who wouldn't trade a few dozen square miles of French countryside for Warp 3.5?" - Marina
-
General Havoc
- Mr. Party-Killbot
- Posts: 5245
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#88
29 Maius, MMDCLXXXIII Ab Urbe Condita
Mediolanum, Italia
The northern capital of Italy, the city locally called Milan had been Rome's greatest rival save for Venice during the wars of unification. Though re-clothed in her Roman name, Milan had lost nothing of her character. A totally different place than tradition-soaked Rome, Mediolanum had re-invented herself under Roman rule as the heart of modernity in the often fecund and lackadaisical Italian penninsula. Marcus Sarpaedius' ancestors came from Mediolanum. He had many-times-great grandfather who had died fighting the Romans at the Battle of Trebia, in 1374. Five and a half centuries later, another Sarpaedius was preparing for war in the city of Milan, though the circumstances could not have been more different.
"Legatus?"
Marcus did not turn around from the window, staring out at the darkened city. Blackout warnings had been in effect for three days, shrouding the city in an imperfectly-organized measure to defeat the flights of Hungarian, and now German bombers, that were expected almost nightly. Marcus thought that the city did not become darkness. His memories of Mediolanum were of oceans of light, banishing the night as the city celebrated some fete or another. The dark shapes of the great Anonyma Longobardice Fabrica Autocinetorum headquarters and factorium complex loomed like some prehistoric monster from the Addua River. In the dim light, the massive "A.L.F.A. Romeo" lettering on the side of the factorium could just barely be read.
One of the primary Autocinetorum complexes in the Empire. It would no doubt be on the target list for their enemies. Marcus Sarpaedius tried to imagine sticks of bombs landing upon the factory, and the houses surrounding it, and shivered.
"Legatus?"
"What news from Hamburg?"
"None yet, sir."
"And Budapest?"
"Mustaphus Cemal sends his complements. He says that he will instruct his faction in the Senate to institute the appropriate procedures for your appointment as Imperator..."
Imperator.
Other nations had similar ranks. Field Marshall, General of the Army, Supreme Commander. None of these had the same connotation, certainly not to a Roman, as the old rank of Imperator, re-purposed like most things for the New Rome. Imperatori were once men acclaimed as generals of genius by their troops on the fields of battle. The term had come to mean General, and then later, lent its name to the term Emperor. Not lightly had the Romans re-invented it, but the great Napoleon Buonapartus Magnus Restutitor had chosen it as his title when he drove out the Kings and established (and saved) the Republic. Others had worn the title since then, some generals of genius, and others of not so much genius. It was the pinnacle of Roman military office, presented by the Senate only in times of great need. The portraits and busts of these men lined the office of the Praesidium Consularis here in the Roman military headquarters. They seemed to stare down at one, measuring constantly, to see of the cripple that wore their hallowed rank was man enough to stand among them.
Imperator.
"Sir, I have the weather reports you ordered."
"Spread them on the desk," said Marcus Sarpaedius, and he turned around and seated himself in his chair with the aid of his cane. The map of Eastern Europe spread out before him.
"Is the Eleventh Legion ready?"
"We have assembled rolling stock behind them in the Hungarian Gauge. They will be able to use the Hungarian Railways when we strike. While two cohorts shadow the approaches to Zagreb, the main force will attack towards Szombathely... forgive me... Savaria. We can then use Lake Balaton, Lacus Pleso, to shield our flank as we strike for Budapestinum."
Sarpaedius nodded. "And the Tenth?"
"The Tenth is preparing to move now. But... sir... is it wise to denude the Alpine frontier of troops at such a critical moment?"
"The Eighth and the Second are still guarding the mountains," said Sarpaedius. "And we cannot drive into the Hungarian heartland with one legion."
"Of course sir," said the adjutant, and he shifted the map south. "Our transit reports from the Danubius border are ready. The Fifteenth should be able to make good progress once across the river."
"Good. Tell the commander he is to march straight for Bucuresti, and draw off the Hungarian forces in Romania. We must break a hole through their defenses to ensure that their seige guns have no chance to blast us apart. What of the Ninth?"
"The Ninth is going to be shielding the left flank of our advance from Hungarian re-enforcements from the north. Tell them to breach the Macedonian Mountains and make for Naissus... what do the locals call it? Nis? Capturing that will allow us to roll up the entire line towards Belgradum."
"Belgradum?"
"Alba Bulgarica, on the Danubius."
The Adjutant nodded. "I wish we could deploy more force to this effort," he said. "The Hungarian armies are massive."
"We can't," said Sarpaedius. "All of our other legions are busy guarding the frontiers. Once the Hungarians launch their assault, our only hope will be a prompt counter-attack."
The Adjutant might have said more, but Sarpaedius didn't let him. He rolled the map up and sat back in his chair. "Give the order," he said. "We make preparations immediately."
"Yes sir."
*----------------------------------------------------------*
To all Roman military units:
"Act in conformance with directive 'Alesia'. Full war alert. Axis attack expected at any time."
*----------------------------------------------------------*
All standing Roman military forces placed on High Alert. Blackouts instituted in all major Roman cities. Embassies are advised that their physical security may not be guaranteed in the event of war. Standing fighter patrols deployed along Roman-Hungarian border. All ships leave port and begin war maneuvers in preparation for re-deployment.
Roman Fourth Legion (Havanna) loads for transport East, expected to be distributed among the Atlantic Islands after re-organization in Calpe (Gibraltar)
Roman Fourteenth Legion (Alexandria) loads for transport and sets sail west, destination, Cuba. Roman Mediterranean Fleet sorties from Sicily to provide escort and sails west to exit Mediterranean via Straits of Gibraltar. Epsilon Force (Gibraltar) is expected to rendezvous with them there for transit across the Atlantic.
Roman Tenth Legion (Aosta) moves south in preparations for re-deployment to the Hungarian Front
Mediolanum, Italia
The northern capital of Italy, the city locally called Milan had been Rome's greatest rival save for Venice during the wars of unification. Though re-clothed in her Roman name, Milan had lost nothing of her character. A totally different place than tradition-soaked Rome, Mediolanum had re-invented herself under Roman rule as the heart of modernity in the often fecund and lackadaisical Italian penninsula. Marcus Sarpaedius' ancestors came from Mediolanum. He had many-times-great grandfather who had died fighting the Romans at the Battle of Trebia, in 1374. Five and a half centuries later, another Sarpaedius was preparing for war in the city of Milan, though the circumstances could not have been more different.
"Legatus?"
Marcus did not turn around from the window, staring out at the darkened city. Blackout warnings had been in effect for three days, shrouding the city in an imperfectly-organized measure to defeat the flights of Hungarian, and now German bombers, that were expected almost nightly. Marcus thought that the city did not become darkness. His memories of Mediolanum were of oceans of light, banishing the night as the city celebrated some fete or another. The dark shapes of the great Anonyma Longobardice Fabrica Autocinetorum headquarters and factorium complex loomed like some prehistoric monster from the Addua River. In the dim light, the massive "A.L.F.A. Romeo" lettering on the side of the factorium could just barely be read.
One of the primary Autocinetorum complexes in the Empire. It would no doubt be on the target list for their enemies. Marcus Sarpaedius tried to imagine sticks of bombs landing upon the factory, and the houses surrounding it, and shivered.
"Legatus?"
"What news from Hamburg?"
"None yet, sir."
"And Budapest?"
"Mustaphus Cemal sends his complements. He says that he will instruct his faction in the Senate to institute the appropriate procedures for your appointment as Imperator..."
Imperator.
Other nations had similar ranks. Field Marshall, General of the Army, Supreme Commander. None of these had the same connotation, certainly not to a Roman, as the old rank of Imperator, re-purposed like most things for the New Rome. Imperatori were once men acclaimed as generals of genius by their troops on the fields of battle. The term had come to mean General, and then later, lent its name to the term Emperor. Not lightly had the Romans re-invented it, but the great Napoleon Buonapartus Magnus Restutitor had chosen it as his title when he drove out the Kings and established (and saved) the Republic. Others had worn the title since then, some generals of genius, and others of not so much genius. It was the pinnacle of Roman military office, presented by the Senate only in times of great need. The portraits and busts of these men lined the office of the Praesidium Consularis here in the Roman military headquarters. They seemed to stare down at one, measuring constantly, to see of the cripple that wore their hallowed rank was man enough to stand among them.
Imperator.
"Sir, I have the weather reports you ordered."
"Spread them on the desk," said Marcus Sarpaedius, and he turned around and seated himself in his chair with the aid of his cane. The map of Eastern Europe spread out before him.
"Is the Eleventh Legion ready?"
"We have assembled rolling stock behind them in the Hungarian Gauge. They will be able to use the Hungarian Railways when we strike. While two cohorts shadow the approaches to Zagreb, the main force will attack towards Szombathely... forgive me... Savaria. We can then use Lake Balaton, Lacus Pleso, to shield our flank as we strike for Budapestinum."
Sarpaedius nodded. "And the Tenth?"
"The Tenth is preparing to move now. But... sir... is it wise to denude the Alpine frontier of troops at such a critical moment?"
"The Eighth and the Second are still guarding the mountains," said Sarpaedius. "And we cannot drive into the Hungarian heartland with one legion."
"Of course sir," said the adjutant, and he shifted the map south. "Our transit reports from the Danubius border are ready. The Fifteenth should be able to make good progress once across the river."
"Good. Tell the commander he is to march straight for Bucuresti, and draw off the Hungarian forces in Romania. We must break a hole through their defenses to ensure that their seige guns have no chance to blast us apart. What of the Ninth?"
"The Ninth is going to be shielding the left flank of our advance from Hungarian re-enforcements from the north. Tell them to breach the Macedonian Mountains and make for Naissus... what do the locals call it? Nis? Capturing that will allow us to roll up the entire line towards Belgradum."
"Belgradum?"
"Alba Bulgarica, on the Danubius."
The Adjutant nodded. "I wish we could deploy more force to this effort," he said. "The Hungarian armies are massive."
"We can't," said Sarpaedius. "All of our other legions are busy guarding the frontiers. Once the Hungarians launch their assault, our only hope will be a prompt counter-attack."
The Adjutant might have said more, but Sarpaedius didn't let him. He rolled the map up and sat back in his chair. "Give the order," he said. "We make preparations immediately."
"Yes sir."
*----------------------------------------------------------*
To all Roman military units:
"Act in conformance with directive 'Alesia'. Full war alert. Axis attack expected at any time."
*----------------------------------------------------------*
All standing Roman military forces placed on High Alert. Blackouts instituted in all major Roman cities. Embassies are advised that their physical security may not be guaranteed in the event of war. Standing fighter patrols deployed along Roman-Hungarian border. All ships leave port and begin war maneuvers in preparation for re-deployment.
Roman Fourth Legion (Havanna) loads for transport East, expected to be distributed among the Atlantic Islands after re-organization in Calpe (Gibraltar)
Roman Fourteenth Legion (Alexandria) loads for transport and sets sail west, destination, Cuba. Roman Mediterranean Fleet sorties from Sicily to provide escort and sails west to exit Mediterranean via Straits of Gibraltar. Epsilon Force (Gibraltar) is expected to rendezvous with them there for transit across the Atlantic.
Roman Tenth Legion (Aosta) moves south in preparations for re-deployment to the Hungarian Front
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
-
General Havoc
- Mr. Party-Killbot
- Posts: 5245
- Joined: Wed Aug 10, 2005 2:12 pm
- 19
- Location: The City that is not Frisco
- Contact:
#89
June 1st, 1930, Hamburg, Germany
Alone, save for an translator and two aides, Ivanus Bonomius Mediator sat in a conference room in the Bundestag building in Hamburg. His arrival had been a hurried affair, with none of the fanfare to be expected from a visiting head of state. The talks he was to have here were direct, no cameras or press to record them, but while he refused to believe all of the dire warnings his colleague had been shouting in the Senate for months, the situation was becoming sufficiently dire to necessitate an open discussion. On the opposite side of the table sat several of the most important figures in the German Government: Rommel, Frosch, Hardlich, and many other diplomats and aides.
Most of these men, Bonomius Mediator knew by sight. He was a career diplomat, a political creature, unashamed and unruffled by negotiations in a boardroom. He had obtained the cognomen of Mediator for his tireless work in defusing situations like this. The case before him was open with the notes he had taken on the airship flight to Hamburg. He slid them in front of him now as he began.
"Gentlemen," he said in Latin, his translator changing the words to German faster than he could have himself. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice. As you are all no-doubt aware, tensions in Europe are fast approaching a boiling point. While I am certain that in public the representations must be different, everyone in this room is well aware that Germany has forged a close alliance between herself and the French and Hungarian Republics or Kingdoms, an alliance that some in my country believe augurs hostility towards the Roman Empire. I have come here today to see if we can find a way out of the morass into which our nations are sinking without the need for bloodshed on the European continent. May I ask you all for a frank assessment of what you see as the present situation, and more precisely, what your interests are in this situation, so that we can come to an agreement acceptable to all?"
*-----------------------------------------------------*
Herr Rommel spoke up. "Ave Mediator" he said "We all speak Latin, if you would prefer to do without the translator" he indicated in perfect unaccented Latin. "Fluency in your language is required here to be considered educated"
"The history between our nations is ripe with conflict Mediator, from when Rome first invaded austria in the fifteenth century, to the rise of Napoleon. Your people have conquered the whole south of europe, asia minor, and most of north africa and can at will cut off trade in the Mediterranean. We can hardly believe that Rome desires peace now, so much as it is too widely spread to continue further conquests. To be blunt... war is inevitable. Whether it happens next month or a decade from now. It is just a matter of history and animosity between our nations. The Hungarians may instigate it without us and when that happens we will have to join in or be faced with a too powerful Hungary later." Rommel paused. He hated this. But he continued.
"It is in our interests to delay it however, and to minimize its scope. As it is yours. Neither of us want other parties getting involved, it would lengthen the war, increase the loss of blood, and minimize the gains for the victor. Neither of us want American involvement. As a result, I propose a mutual naval drawdown in the Caribbean. If those areas are isolated from war they provide a useful source of imports that will help keep both of our economies afloat, pardon the expression. It also frees up both of our navies to fight over our primary holdings."
*-----------------------------------------------------*
Whatever Ivanus Bonomius Mediator had expected to hear on his trip to Hamburg, this was quite plainly not it. The translator hesitated, unsure if he was supposed to repeat what had just been said, as Ivanus Bonomius looked at the German delegation without moving, and then slowly leaned forward, placing his hands on the table.
"Perhaps Rome understands history differently than Germany," he said carefully. "In our country, it is taught that the Germans have made a habit of invading the Roman Empire for two thousand years, since the days of Gaius Marius. Several times, Italy has played unwilling host to armies of Germans, yet never, to my knowledge, has a Roman army ever conquered part or all of Germany. You spoke of our wars. Napoleon Buonapartus Magnus Restutitor did die fighting a Franco-German army. However as we remember it, he did so in the midst of an invasion of both Italy and Transalpine Gaul, and in doing so, saved our Empire from destruction at the hands of your people."
"Despite this," continued Bonomius Mediator, "for a hundred and thirty years, there has been peace between Rome and Germany. No hostile moves have we made against either you, or any of your allies. When you joined with France in alliance against us, we did nothing save request clarifications of the situation. When your goading emboldened the Hungarians to demand that we hand our territories over to them, we chose to interpret it as a unique act on the part of a belligerent nation, and not extend our blame to you. And now, that you have forged an alliance of half a dozen different peoples all across Europe, we have come here, to your Capital, to ask what it is that you demand from us."
"Rome has not built alliances with other nations with the intention of waging war against Germany. Rome has not deployed flotillas of attack aircraft to a third party nation in direct threat to the heartlands of another country. Rome has not brought a sitting magistrate of another Empire to her capital and informed them cavalierly that war is inevitable between our peoples. Germany has done all of these things in recent days."
"Our people are terrified, Chancellor, of what this augurs. We look to the north and see a two thousand mile border seething with armed enemies bent on our destruction. Our women ask themselves if they will not soon be forced to drag the lifeless bodies of their children from the ruins of their homes after the fleets of attack bombers you have ordered sent to Hungary assault us from the air. Our soldiers ask their Centurions and Legates if they will die at the hands of French tanks, German bullets, or Hungarian Artillery. All of them look to the Senate, as the fathers of Rome, to remedy this situation, and it is by their leave that I have come here, not to limit the scope of a pan-European war, but to prevent it altogether. A simple glance at a map should tell you that Rome has no capacity to threaten Germany, Hungary, Russia, and France combined. Do you think us supermen? Or demons? That you should outnumber us four to one and still feel the need to make war against us in your own defense?"
Bonomius Mediator sat back in his chair. "Diplomacy is the art of the possible," he said. "Let us be diplomatic. A war between Germany and Rome would be a catastrophe beyond measuring, for the victors as much as the vanquished. Would you not prefer to see your soldiers unshot, unbombed, uncannonaded, or see them dead in the Alps and in the plains of Northern Italy? You have spoken plainly. Let me speak plainly as well. What price must Rome pay to avert this war that you claim is inevitable?"
*-----------------------------------------------------*
"Your lack of ability to conquer German lands was not for a lack of trying. I am a student of history too Mediator. While I would not consider the Roman Empire of ancient times to be continuous with yours, I will be generous and grant it. Romans pressed into German land repeatedly. Rome did it under both Caesar and Augustus, then there was Teutoburg campaign and Germanicus' campaigns thereafter, to say nothing what it has done to the French. I do seem to remember a certain disastrous campaign of yours in the 15th century as well.
As for Napoleon, all our at the time Spanish ally was attempting to do was repossess territory that rightfully belonged to them. Napoleon then caused the fall of the Spanish Empire.. Though I will confess we did invade you at the time, but it was not as if you were not at war with an ally of ours or anything. The only reason we have been at peace for one hundred and thirty years was because you were spread too thin to cross the alps in force and take the rest of Austria and Switzerland. We had to protect our border with you, and have been unable to assist the Vasan in making sure the Russians do not make a move on Europe as a whole. You have conquered most of North Africa, West Asia, The Balkans... To now say that your people are terrified of war is laughable. They are now only worried about having to face the same destruction that you have so often visited on others. Even now you are redeploying a battle fleet to the Caribbean even after we withdrew our heavy assets from the region. What do you mean to do there? Invade Venezuela? Or do you simply want to intimidate the Americans. If you are not careful you will spark off a war with them long before we ever start one.
I cannot necessarily speak for everyone in our little alliance as to what would prevent war immediately, let alone the future. However it would have to be the ceding of large portions of territory. At minimum we would want your Caribbean holdings, as well as the portions of Austria and Switzerland you control. The french would want Gibraltar, the portions of southeastern France under your control as well as Egypt and the Suez, the Hungarians of course want the Balkans. The Russians. They are Russians, what don't they want? You would need to negotiate with them what they would be willing to settle for. However our treaties are already signed. If one of us goes to war with you, we all do. In addition to that, we would require you to disband all of your offensive units: Battleships, artillery, bombers, submarines, anything that might threaten us. We will not see Rome's legions marching on us or anyone else, ever again."
*-----------------------------------------------------*
"Rome has fought many wars, Chancellor," said Ivanus Bonomius Mediator. "Some were fought for security, some for power, some even for glory. But never have any of them been fought for reasons so spurious, so arrogant, so transparantly greedy, as this war you speak so cavalierly of."
Ivanus Bonomius Mediator had been maintaining a normal tone through the entire proceedings, but as though a mask had been torn away, his voice changed, becoming bitter and charged with emotion, his voice trembling with the effort as he spoke his denunciation in clear, forceful latin.
"You would speak to Rome of the visiting of destruction on others? Of what lands are rightfully whose? You who destroyed the first Empire and raped our city and lands for a thousand years, would now talk to us of threats and our villainy? When the Ottoman Turks boiled out of Asia Minor, did Germany stand against them? Or was it Rome who spent her treasure and the blood of her sons to stem the tide? We did not conquer the Balkans, chancellor, we saved them and civilization itself from the Ottoman tide. And when finally we prevailed against them after centuries of bloodshed, it was we who protected the remnants of their people from the revenges of those they had assailed, we who brought them back into the fold and rebuilt their lands, we who weathered their revolts and disobediance, until today my collegue, who sits in the Curile Chair beside me and calls himself the First Man in Rome is a Turcian of Ottoman stock. Where were the Hungarians? Where were the Germans or Russians, save when the war was won and there were spoils to be gathered? And now you deny us the right to rule the Balkans, where millions of Roman men, women, and children have lived for four centuries? What rights have you to dictate where we may live, on ground hallowed by the blood of our soldiers?"
Mediator shook his head back and forth. "Aragon? Provence? These are not Spanish or French territories. They never have been! We took Avignon and the Provence in Southern Gaul from the Pope half a millenium ago! Aragon joined us by treaty and agreement, so as not to be overwhelmed and subsumed by Lisbon and Castille. For the 'crime' of having asked to join with us, they have been rewarded by the Spanish with unending warfare. Four times we have fought wars with Spain over the right of the Aragonese to choose a path other than that which Lisbon has set for them, and four times we repelled the Spanish from it. They have no right to Aragon. No more than France has a right to Massalia, or you one to Noricum and Venice. They are Roman lands, inhabitted by Roman citizens, who are not yours to dispose of."
The Consul clearly was working himself up, angrier and angrier, as he stood up. "It was we who swept our sea clean of the Barbary Pirates, enemies to all nations, including your own. It was we who extirpated their nests at Tripoli and Algiers. It was we who dredged a canal through Africa to the Red sea, we who permitted the French to send their soldiers and goods to Asia in less than eight months. For six hundred years, we protected the trade lanes of the Mare Nostrum, of our sea, from all who would turn it into a den of piracy and murder. We did these things, Chancellor, not you. And now you would sit here and dictate to us that we have no right to our own sea? That our ships are forfeit, our lands taken, our citizens stolen, our children kidnapped, because of your naked greed?!"
The Consul teetered, and then collapsed back into his chair in a heap. The translator jumped up, as though the consul had had a heart attack, but Mediator wearily waved him off. He sat in silence for a time, and when he finally opened his eyes, there were tears in them. He sat up straighter, looking as though he had aged five years in as many minutes, and spoke in a hollow, soft voice.
"We cannot fight you," he said, and his tone was funerial and weak. "Not you and all your allies. You know this, and we do as well. And so we are forced under the yoke." He raised his eyes slowly, his voice filling with venom. "We will barter on your terms," he said. "We will... have your peace in our time. And may you choke on it. A curse on Germany for this disgrace. A curse on France and Russia and Hungary. May the Gods damn you all, and may they damn me for agreeing to it, but we will sign your predatory terms."
It took the Consul a moment or two to compose himself and ask a few questions.
"I presume that you cannot speak for your allies," he said. "Nor can I speak for the Senate in this manner without a consultation. It may be that they will lynch me when I return to Rome, in which case I will thank the Gods for their mercy. But if they do not, I must know what you intend to do with the millions of Roman citizens I am abandoning. The Turcians and Greeks and Aragonese and Provencals and all the others you extort from us. I cannot leave them to their fate without knowing at least what it will be. If I did, they would kill me, and fight you to the bitter end, and they would be right to."
*-----------------------------------------------------*
Rommel blinked. He had never thought that the Consul would ever accept those terms. Everything else he said had more or less faded to the background in his mind when those words were spoken until the Consul started talking about the treatment of Roman Citizens.
"On that note, I have talked to the Russian, French and Hungarian governments. We may be, as you say, nakedly greedy. That much may well be true. However we are not cruel. There will of course be a period of initial occupation in order to make sure that the lands are secure. No pillage, or rapine slaughter will be permitted.
On the part of germany, if such incidents are found to occur those responsible and their immediate commanding officers will be shot. The converse is also true. Romans engaged in violence will also be shot. Policies by Hungary and France may vary in that respect.
That having been said, Roman Citizens finding themselves in territory occupied by Germany, France, or Hungary will have two options. They will be able to emigrate to territory controlled by Rome, or they may stay. If they stay they will retain all property and legal rights under the law of the nation in question and be considered foreign nationals with permanent residency status until such a time as they emigrate or renounce roman citizenship in favor of citizenship in the occupying nation. They may be watched for an initial period to avoid espionage, but other than that they will be treated with the utmost in courtesy and respect.
The russians are a tad different. Roman Citizens will be treated the same way other conquered populations are treated. They are exempt from the draft, but are also not allowed to vote. They are free to practice any religion they wish, but are not allowed to preach it to members of other religions. Their property rights are maintained and local law is to be gradually phased out in favor of Russian Imperial Law. Does this meet with your approval?"
*-----------------------------------------------------*
"My approval?" asked the Consul. "You bring me here to dismember my nation, and ask for my approval? No Chancellor, I do not approve. I have prayed for decades that I might not live to see this day, but fate has deemed otherwise."
The Consul rose to his feet. "I do not ask you how I know that you will do as you have said, for I do not. The world will judge Germany for this farce, by action and deed, as they will judge us all. I have done my duty to Rome. Perhaps they will make that my epitaph."
"I will go now, back to my city, and attempt to convince the Senate to listen to reason. It is possible they will refuse, and kill me, and then there will be war. But I will not see my people exterminated if I can arrange it. Tell your allies to prepare their delegates to meet with us. We will send for them... shortly..."
And with that, shoulders slumped, posture stooped, Ivanus Bonomius Mediator turned away from the German delegation, and walked out of the room, towards the waiting car that would take him to the airport. He said not a word as he left, nor as he seated himself in the car, and it was not until they pulled away that his translator/adjutant dared ask him a question.
"Consul?" asked the young man, still in shock from all that happened. "Are you all right?"
Ivanus Bonomius Mediator took a slow, deep breath. "Call our Embassy in Hungary. Tell them to take a message to Paterturcii."
"What should I tell him?"
"Tell him that he was right," said the Senior Consul. "Damn him for a Cassandra and me for a fool... he was right all along, and I did not believe him. Tell him it was exactly as he said..."
"Sir?"
"Just tell him that much, boy. And tell him to ask his God for help... mine has abandoned me."
Alone, save for an translator and two aides, Ivanus Bonomius Mediator sat in a conference room in the Bundestag building in Hamburg. His arrival had been a hurried affair, with none of the fanfare to be expected from a visiting head of state. The talks he was to have here were direct, no cameras or press to record them, but while he refused to believe all of the dire warnings his colleague had been shouting in the Senate for months, the situation was becoming sufficiently dire to necessitate an open discussion. On the opposite side of the table sat several of the most important figures in the German Government: Rommel, Frosch, Hardlich, and many other diplomats and aides.
Most of these men, Bonomius Mediator knew by sight. He was a career diplomat, a political creature, unashamed and unruffled by negotiations in a boardroom. He had obtained the cognomen of Mediator for his tireless work in defusing situations like this. The case before him was open with the notes he had taken on the airship flight to Hamburg. He slid them in front of him now as he began.
"Gentlemen," he said in Latin, his translator changing the words to German faster than he could have himself. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice. As you are all no-doubt aware, tensions in Europe are fast approaching a boiling point. While I am certain that in public the representations must be different, everyone in this room is well aware that Germany has forged a close alliance between herself and the French and Hungarian Republics or Kingdoms, an alliance that some in my country believe augurs hostility towards the Roman Empire. I have come here today to see if we can find a way out of the morass into which our nations are sinking without the need for bloodshed on the European continent. May I ask you all for a frank assessment of what you see as the present situation, and more precisely, what your interests are in this situation, so that we can come to an agreement acceptable to all?"
*-----------------------------------------------------*
Herr Rommel spoke up. "Ave Mediator" he said "We all speak Latin, if you would prefer to do without the translator" he indicated in perfect unaccented Latin. "Fluency in your language is required here to be considered educated"
"The history between our nations is ripe with conflict Mediator, from when Rome first invaded austria in the fifteenth century, to the rise of Napoleon. Your people have conquered the whole south of europe, asia minor, and most of north africa and can at will cut off trade in the Mediterranean. We can hardly believe that Rome desires peace now, so much as it is too widely spread to continue further conquests. To be blunt... war is inevitable. Whether it happens next month or a decade from now. It is just a matter of history and animosity between our nations. The Hungarians may instigate it without us and when that happens we will have to join in or be faced with a too powerful Hungary later." Rommel paused. He hated this. But he continued.
"It is in our interests to delay it however, and to minimize its scope. As it is yours. Neither of us want other parties getting involved, it would lengthen the war, increase the loss of blood, and minimize the gains for the victor. Neither of us want American involvement. As a result, I propose a mutual naval drawdown in the Caribbean. If those areas are isolated from war they provide a useful source of imports that will help keep both of our economies afloat, pardon the expression. It also frees up both of our navies to fight over our primary holdings."
*-----------------------------------------------------*
Whatever Ivanus Bonomius Mediator had expected to hear on his trip to Hamburg, this was quite plainly not it. The translator hesitated, unsure if he was supposed to repeat what had just been said, as Ivanus Bonomius looked at the German delegation without moving, and then slowly leaned forward, placing his hands on the table.
"Perhaps Rome understands history differently than Germany," he said carefully. "In our country, it is taught that the Germans have made a habit of invading the Roman Empire for two thousand years, since the days of Gaius Marius. Several times, Italy has played unwilling host to armies of Germans, yet never, to my knowledge, has a Roman army ever conquered part or all of Germany. You spoke of our wars. Napoleon Buonapartus Magnus Restutitor did die fighting a Franco-German army. However as we remember it, he did so in the midst of an invasion of both Italy and Transalpine Gaul, and in doing so, saved our Empire from destruction at the hands of your people."
"Despite this," continued Bonomius Mediator, "for a hundred and thirty years, there has been peace between Rome and Germany. No hostile moves have we made against either you, or any of your allies. When you joined with France in alliance against us, we did nothing save request clarifications of the situation. When your goading emboldened the Hungarians to demand that we hand our territories over to them, we chose to interpret it as a unique act on the part of a belligerent nation, and not extend our blame to you. And now, that you have forged an alliance of half a dozen different peoples all across Europe, we have come here, to your Capital, to ask what it is that you demand from us."
"Rome has not built alliances with other nations with the intention of waging war against Germany. Rome has not deployed flotillas of attack aircraft to a third party nation in direct threat to the heartlands of another country. Rome has not brought a sitting magistrate of another Empire to her capital and informed them cavalierly that war is inevitable between our peoples. Germany has done all of these things in recent days."
"Our people are terrified, Chancellor, of what this augurs. We look to the north and see a two thousand mile border seething with armed enemies bent on our destruction. Our women ask themselves if they will not soon be forced to drag the lifeless bodies of their children from the ruins of their homes after the fleets of attack bombers you have ordered sent to Hungary assault us from the air. Our soldiers ask their Centurions and Legates if they will die at the hands of French tanks, German bullets, or Hungarian Artillery. All of them look to the Senate, as the fathers of Rome, to remedy this situation, and it is by their leave that I have come here, not to limit the scope of a pan-European war, but to prevent it altogether. A simple glance at a map should tell you that Rome has no capacity to threaten Germany, Hungary, Russia, and France combined. Do you think us supermen? Or demons? That you should outnumber us four to one and still feel the need to make war against us in your own defense?"
Bonomius Mediator sat back in his chair. "Diplomacy is the art of the possible," he said. "Let us be diplomatic. A war between Germany and Rome would be a catastrophe beyond measuring, for the victors as much as the vanquished. Would you not prefer to see your soldiers unshot, unbombed, uncannonaded, or see them dead in the Alps and in the plains of Northern Italy? You have spoken plainly. Let me speak plainly as well. What price must Rome pay to avert this war that you claim is inevitable?"
*-----------------------------------------------------*
"Your lack of ability to conquer German lands was not for a lack of trying. I am a student of history too Mediator. While I would not consider the Roman Empire of ancient times to be continuous with yours, I will be generous and grant it. Romans pressed into German land repeatedly. Rome did it under both Caesar and Augustus, then there was Teutoburg campaign and Germanicus' campaigns thereafter, to say nothing what it has done to the French. I do seem to remember a certain disastrous campaign of yours in the 15th century as well.
As for Napoleon, all our at the time Spanish ally was attempting to do was repossess territory that rightfully belonged to them. Napoleon then caused the fall of the Spanish Empire.. Though I will confess we did invade you at the time, but it was not as if you were not at war with an ally of ours or anything. The only reason we have been at peace for one hundred and thirty years was because you were spread too thin to cross the alps in force and take the rest of Austria and Switzerland. We had to protect our border with you, and have been unable to assist the Vasan in making sure the Russians do not make a move on Europe as a whole. You have conquered most of North Africa, West Asia, The Balkans... To now say that your people are terrified of war is laughable. They are now only worried about having to face the same destruction that you have so often visited on others. Even now you are redeploying a battle fleet to the Caribbean even after we withdrew our heavy assets from the region. What do you mean to do there? Invade Venezuela? Or do you simply want to intimidate the Americans. If you are not careful you will spark off a war with them long before we ever start one.
I cannot necessarily speak for everyone in our little alliance as to what would prevent war immediately, let alone the future. However it would have to be the ceding of large portions of territory. At minimum we would want your Caribbean holdings, as well as the portions of Austria and Switzerland you control. The french would want Gibraltar, the portions of southeastern France under your control as well as Egypt and the Suez, the Hungarians of course want the Balkans. The Russians. They are Russians, what don't they want? You would need to negotiate with them what they would be willing to settle for. However our treaties are already signed. If one of us goes to war with you, we all do. In addition to that, we would require you to disband all of your offensive units: Battleships, artillery, bombers, submarines, anything that might threaten us. We will not see Rome's legions marching on us or anyone else, ever again."
*-----------------------------------------------------*
"Rome has fought many wars, Chancellor," said Ivanus Bonomius Mediator. "Some were fought for security, some for power, some even for glory. But never have any of them been fought for reasons so spurious, so arrogant, so transparantly greedy, as this war you speak so cavalierly of."
Ivanus Bonomius Mediator had been maintaining a normal tone through the entire proceedings, but as though a mask had been torn away, his voice changed, becoming bitter and charged with emotion, his voice trembling with the effort as he spoke his denunciation in clear, forceful latin.
"You would speak to Rome of the visiting of destruction on others? Of what lands are rightfully whose? You who destroyed the first Empire and raped our city and lands for a thousand years, would now talk to us of threats and our villainy? When the Ottoman Turks boiled out of Asia Minor, did Germany stand against them? Or was it Rome who spent her treasure and the blood of her sons to stem the tide? We did not conquer the Balkans, chancellor, we saved them and civilization itself from the Ottoman tide. And when finally we prevailed against them after centuries of bloodshed, it was we who protected the remnants of their people from the revenges of those they had assailed, we who brought them back into the fold and rebuilt their lands, we who weathered their revolts and disobediance, until today my collegue, who sits in the Curile Chair beside me and calls himself the First Man in Rome is a Turcian of Ottoman stock. Where were the Hungarians? Where were the Germans or Russians, save when the war was won and there were spoils to be gathered? And now you deny us the right to rule the Balkans, where millions of Roman men, women, and children have lived for four centuries? What rights have you to dictate where we may live, on ground hallowed by the blood of our soldiers?"
Mediator shook his head back and forth. "Aragon? Provence? These are not Spanish or French territories. They never have been! We took Avignon and the Provence in Southern Gaul from the Pope half a millenium ago! Aragon joined us by treaty and agreement, so as not to be overwhelmed and subsumed by Lisbon and Castille. For the 'crime' of having asked to join with us, they have been rewarded by the Spanish with unending warfare. Four times we have fought wars with Spain over the right of the Aragonese to choose a path other than that which Lisbon has set for them, and four times we repelled the Spanish from it. They have no right to Aragon. No more than France has a right to Massalia, or you one to Noricum and Venice. They are Roman lands, inhabitted by Roman citizens, who are not yours to dispose of."
The Consul clearly was working himself up, angrier and angrier, as he stood up. "It was we who swept our sea clean of the Barbary Pirates, enemies to all nations, including your own. It was we who extirpated their nests at Tripoli and Algiers. It was we who dredged a canal through Africa to the Red sea, we who permitted the French to send their soldiers and goods to Asia in less than eight months. For six hundred years, we protected the trade lanes of the Mare Nostrum, of our sea, from all who would turn it into a den of piracy and murder. We did these things, Chancellor, not you. And now you would sit here and dictate to us that we have no right to our own sea? That our ships are forfeit, our lands taken, our citizens stolen, our children kidnapped, because of your naked greed?!"
The Consul teetered, and then collapsed back into his chair in a heap. The translator jumped up, as though the consul had had a heart attack, but Mediator wearily waved him off. He sat in silence for a time, and when he finally opened his eyes, there were tears in them. He sat up straighter, looking as though he had aged five years in as many minutes, and spoke in a hollow, soft voice.
"We cannot fight you," he said, and his tone was funerial and weak. "Not you and all your allies. You know this, and we do as well. And so we are forced under the yoke." He raised his eyes slowly, his voice filling with venom. "We will barter on your terms," he said. "We will... have your peace in our time. And may you choke on it. A curse on Germany for this disgrace. A curse on France and Russia and Hungary. May the Gods damn you all, and may they damn me for agreeing to it, but we will sign your predatory terms."
It took the Consul a moment or two to compose himself and ask a few questions.
"I presume that you cannot speak for your allies," he said. "Nor can I speak for the Senate in this manner without a consultation. It may be that they will lynch me when I return to Rome, in which case I will thank the Gods for their mercy. But if they do not, I must know what you intend to do with the millions of Roman citizens I am abandoning. The Turcians and Greeks and Aragonese and Provencals and all the others you extort from us. I cannot leave them to their fate without knowing at least what it will be. If I did, they would kill me, and fight you to the bitter end, and they would be right to."
*-----------------------------------------------------*
Rommel blinked. He had never thought that the Consul would ever accept those terms. Everything else he said had more or less faded to the background in his mind when those words were spoken until the Consul started talking about the treatment of Roman Citizens.
"On that note, I have talked to the Russian, French and Hungarian governments. We may be, as you say, nakedly greedy. That much may well be true. However we are not cruel. There will of course be a period of initial occupation in order to make sure that the lands are secure. No pillage, or rapine slaughter will be permitted.
On the part of germany, if such incidents are found to occur those responsible and their immediate commanding officers will be shot. The converse is also true. Romans engaged in violence will also be shot. Policies by Hungary and France may vary in that respect.
That having been said, Roman Citizens finding themselves in territory occupied by Germany, France, or Hungary will have two options. They will be able to emigrate to territory controlled by Rome, or they may stay. If they stay they will retain all property and legal rights under the law of the nation in question and be considered foreign nationals with permanent residency status until such a time as they emigrate or renounce roman citizenship in favor of citizenship in the occupying nation. They may be watched for an initial period to avoid espionage, but other than that they will be treated with the utmost in courtesy and respect.
The russians are a tad different. Roman Citizens will be treated the same way other conquered populations are treated. They are exempt from the draft, but are also not allowed to vote. They are free to practice any religion they wish, but are not allowed to preach it to members of other religions. Their property rights are maintained and local law is to be gradually phased out in favor of Russian Imperial Law. Does this meet with your approval?"
*-----------------------------------------------------*
"My approval?" asked the Consul. "You bring me here to dismember my nation, and ask for my approval? No Chancellor, I do not approve. I have prayed for decades that I might not live to see this day, but fate has deemed otherwise."
The Consul rose to his feet. "I do not ask you how I know that you will do as you have said, for I do not. The world will judge Germany for this farce, by action and deed, as they will judge us all. I have done my duty to Rome. Perhaps they will make that my epitaph."
"I will go now, back to my city, and attempt to convince the Senate to listen to reason. It is possible they will refuse, and kill me, and then there will be war. But I will not see my people exterminated if I can arrange it. Tell your allies to prepare their delegates to meet with us. We will send for them... shortly..."
And with that, shoulders slumped, posture stooped, Ivanus Bonomius Mediator turned away from the German delegation, and walked out of the room, towards the waiting car that would take him to the airport. He said not a word as he left, nor as he seated himself in the car, and it was not until they pulled away that his translator/adjutant dared ask him a question.
"Consul?" asked the young man, still in shock from all that happened. "Are you all right?"
Ivanus Bonomius Mediator took a slow, deep breath. "Call our Embassy in Hungary. Tell them to take a message to Paterturcii."
"What should I tell him?"
"Tell him that he was right," said the Senior Consul. "Damn him for a Cassandra and me for a fool... he was right all along, and I did not believe him. Tell him it was exactly as he said..."
"Sir?"
"Just tell him that much, boy. And tell him to ask his God for help... mine has abandoned me."
Last edited by General Havoc on Mon Jan 18, 2010 11:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
#90
May 1930
Tanzania, Air Base 4
Eight airships rested from their recent ordeals in the Indian ocean. Around them a small army of support personnel went through the necessary process of maintenance. The squadron had spent a significant amount of time on station and had to be refueled in Freehold territory in order to fully carry out their objectives. Ultimately, the confederation felt that their mission had proven to be a relatively successful one even if their weaknesses of their deployment had become apparent. The Ethiopians had kept a close eye on the air ships, and their relative weakness in their current configuration was hard to overlook. Nonetheless, as a means of gathering information during daylight hours they were useful if limited devices.
As a dozens of men worked on their assigned tasks, they spoke amongst themselves about the latest rumors. It was said that the Confederation was building other squadrons of airships to be incorporated into its long term goals and ambitions. Some of them hoped that some of these air ships would be actually armed.
May 1930
Indian Ocean
The Eastern Fleet had been broken down into three separate major task groups with eight escort heavy sub-groups. At the heart of each of the three major task groups stood a single battleship. The ACNS Black Sword herself began a series of maneuvers that lasted for a period of two weeks. Once those maneuvers had finished, the ACNS Bright Shield and her task force began a series of maneuvers for two weeks. When it became clear that the civil war in the Kingdom of Ethiopia was stabilizing and that no foreign power seemed to be particularly interested in intervening in that matter, the naval forces of the eastern fleet began to move once more into a more familiar pattern.
The Confederation was of course aware of what was transpiring in Europe. It was however, in the rather unique position of being an indirect player. The Confederation had no particular interests in Europe, but there were European interests in Africa and Africa was the core of the Confederation's concerns. The Eastern Fleet was placed on alert. In doing so, the Confederation discouraged the possibility of any accidents near its territorial waters.
May 1930
African Confederation, Northern Angola
The Confederation held a portion of Angola. Upon its initial founding, elements of the army of the Confederation had expanded to the east and south riding a wave of discontent for former Spanish and other territorial holdings. Working in conjunction with these locals, the Confederation grew nearly three- fold. This expansion caused a great deal of concern amongst the government and orders were relayed for the expansion to stop. The leadership of the nascent African Confederation had feared that it would be ill equipped to defend its territory if it were to gorge itself in land.
That was a mistake.
The thought floated in the mind of the man that called himself Akan. The series of circumstances that had led to the creation of the African Confederation had been unique and he did not foresee their replication in the future. Had the Confederation continued its expansion, it was conceivable that English holdings in Africa would be a quarter of the size they were today. Confederate shyness had directly led to the existing situation. It was not as if the English were bad neighbors. They were however Europeans and that meant that they did not truly belong. Their concerns were not those of Africa and its people, but of England a far away land with an insatiable appetite for African land.
His eyes focused on the simple cup in his left hand, the palm wine swirling in a tight circle beneath his coaxing. He brought the cup to his lips and sampled the familiar flavor once more before his eyes settled on the man opposite him.
"You have to be realistic Shulla" Akan said.
"You always say that Akan. How long are we supposed to wait for you to act?" The man called Shulla responded.
"As long as it takes." Akan shrugged, his collar bone playing beneath taut muscles.
"Every day that passes, our enemy gets richer. The wealth of our ancestors is being siphoned away never to return and you counsel for patience!" Shulla all but hissed the words.
"Yes. I counsel for patience because the Confederation will not be rushed into this. I have already told you what you must do to facilitate the future. You know what is required of you and others like you to make your desires into fruition." He said.
"What I must do. I know my duty! What have you done lately?" Shulla growled. Akan went silent and Shulla nearly winced. Had he gone too far?
"What I have done is make certain that when our border with the rest of Angola needed to be porous it was. What I have done, is make certain that you and yours have access to weapons, ammunition and medical supplies. I have made certain that when one of yours fucks up, they can be evacuated into the Confederation to receive the sort of care that you can only dream of. I have made certain that when you needed experts in the fields of demolitions and infiltration, they were available to you. I have been a stalwart ally Shulla. If you wish to reconsidering our arrangement..." Akan let the final words be unsaid. Shulla would not survive a fallout with him.
"No. No. I... I apologize Akan. What you have said is true. It is just." Shulla sighed. "There are days when I do not see a future not under the heel of our occupiers. I grow tired of seeing freedom to my north always out of reach."
Akan nodded. "I recognize how difficult it must be. Do not think me heartless Shulla. You and I are as one. Still, the rules of our dangerous game have not changed. You have to help me if I am going to be able to help you."
Shulla nodded silently and drank deeply from his cup. He was aware of what was occurring in Europe. If he doubled his efforts, coordinated with others like him maybe it would be possible to give the Confederation the circumstances it needed to intervene. His eyes settled on those of Akan and he found himself smiling for the first time this night.
Tanzania, Air Base 4
Eight airships rested from their recent ordeals in the Indian ocean. Around them a small army of support personnel went through the necessary process of maintenance. The squadron had spent a significant amount of time on station and had to be refueled in Freehold territory in order to fully carry out their objectives. Ultimately, the confederation felt that their mission had proven to be a relatively successful one even if their weaknesses of their deployment had become apparent. The Ethiopians had kept a close eye on the air ships, and their relative weakness in their current configuration was hard to overlook. Nonetheless, as a means of gathering information during daylight hours they were useful if limited devices.
As a dozens of men worked on their assigned tasks, they spoke amongst themselves about the latest rumors. It was said that the Confederation was building other squadrons of airships to be incorporated into its long term goals and ambitions. Some of them hoped that some of these air ships would be actually armed.
May 1930
Indian Ocean
The Eastern Fleet had been broken down into three separate major task groups with eight escort heavy sub-groups. At the heart of each of the three major task groups stood a single battleship. The ACNS Black Sword herself began a series of maneuvers that lasted for a period of two weeks. Once those maneuvers had finished, the ACNS Bright Shield and her task force began a series of maneuvers for two weeks. When it became clear that the civil war in the Kingdom of Ethiopia was stabilizing and that no foreign power seemed to be particularly interested in intervening in that matter, the naval forces of the eastern fleet began to move once more into a more familiar pattern.
The Confederation was of course aware of what was transpiring in Europe. It was however, in the rather unique position of being an indirect player. The Confederation had no particular interests in Europe, but there were European interests in Africa and Africa was the core of the Confederation's concerns. The Eastern Fleet was placed on alert. In doing so, the Confederation discouraged the possibility of any accidents near its territorial waters.
May 1930
African Confederation, Northern Angola
The Confederation held a portion of Angola. Upon its initial founding, elements of the army of the Confederation had expanded to the east and south riding a wave of discontent for former Spanish and other territorial holdings. Working in conjunction with these locals, the Confederation grew nearly three- fold. This expansion caused a great deal of concern amongst the government and orders were relayed for the expansion to stop. The leadership of the nascent African Confederation had feared that it would be ill equipped to defend its territory if it were to gorge itself in land.
That was a mistake.
The thought floated in the mind of the man that called himself Akan. The series of circumstances that had led to the creation of the African Confederation had been unique and he did not foresee their replication in the future. Had the Confederation continued its expansion, it was conceivable that English holdings in Africa would be a quarter of the size they were today. Confederate shyness had directly led to the existing situation. It was not as if the English were bad neighbors. They were however Europeans and that meant that they did not truly belong. Their concerns were not those of Africa and its people, but of England a far away land with an insatiable appetite for African land.
His eyes focused on the simple cup in his left hand, the palm wine swirling in a tight circle beneath his coaxing. He brought the cup to his lips and sampled the familiar flavor once more before his eyes settled on the man opposite him.
"You have to be realistic Shulla" Akan said.
"You always say that Akan. How long are we supposed to wait for you to act?" The man called Shulla responded.
"As long as it takes." Akan shrugged, his collar bone playing beneath taut muscles.
"Every day that passes, our enemy gets richer. The wealth of our ancestors is being siphoned away never to return and you counsel for patience!" Shulla all but hissed the words.
"Yes. I counsel for patience because the Confederation will not be rushed into this. I have already told you what you must do to facilitate the future. You know what is required of you and others like you to make your desires into fruition." He said.
"What I must do. I know my duty! What have you done lately?" Shulla growled. Akan went silent and Shulla nearly winced. Had he gone too far?
"What I have done is make certain that when our border with the rest of Angola needed to be porous it was. What I have done, is make certain that you and yours have access to weapons, ammunition and medical supplies. I have made certain that when one of yours fucks up, they can be evacuated into the Confederation to receive the sort of care that you can only dream of. I have made certain that when you needed experts in the fields of demolitions and infiltration, they were available to you. I have been a stalwart ally Shulla. If you wish to reconsidering our arrangement..." Akan let the final words be unsaid. Shulla would not survive a fallout with him.
"No. No. I... I apologize Akan. What you have said is true. It is just." Shulla sighed. "There are days when I do not see a future not under the heel of our occupiers. I grow tired of seeing freedom to my north always out of reach."
Akan nodded. "I recognize how difficult it must be. Do not think me heartless Shulla. You and I are as one. Still, the rules of our dangerous game have not changed. You have to help me if I am going to be able to help you."
Shulla nodded silently and drank deeply from his cup. He was aware of what was occurring in Europe. If he doubled his efforts, coordinated with others like him maybe it would be possible to give the Confederation the circumstances it needed to intervene. His eyes settled on those of Akan and he found himself smiling for the first time this night.
The Peddler of Half Truths.
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
-
frigidmagi
- Dragon Death-Marine General
- Posts: 14757
- Joined: Wed Jun 08, 2005 11:03 am
- 19
- Location: Alone and unafraid
#91
Nanking China
"Do you see this offer? They promise to protect us from other navies. An interesting offer given most of our shore fortifications are built out of fear of their navy, not the Pacificans or the Mohammedans of Klavoistan! It's not like any of the rebels have a fleet worth speaking of! Bah! The Demon worshipers are shameless!" King Hong David II raged stalking back and forth in one of his private rooms. The recent message from Japan had been a goad to him.
"Perhaps but they do not ask us to do anything we wouldn't do anyways." Sun Yat Sen pointed out. The Cheif Minister was sitting. The heat of the summer had been draining for him. His voice had developed a raspy quality David did not like.
"You should drink more tea." The young King said.
"I should. I should also council you to speak softly to them. They are for now a stronger empire. Your mission is to bring the faith and union to your people in China. Not to wage Crusade against foregin enemies of Christ. Not yet at least." Sen said and took a drink of tea. The King grunted in reply.
"My Lord King, allow me to write the reply to them. There are other issues to consider. The Ethiopians crown a new Emperor soon. We have received an invitation." Sat said, he would have to work his way to the real important matter slowly.
"Ah... We cannot slight them that is for sure! Ethiopia was a Christian nation when China was in the grips of idolatry and murdering our daughters in bad years. The new Emperor of Ethiopia would be my brother in Christ. I dare not risk God's anger in insulting him... " King Hong David II said trailing off. When he had been younger it had pleased his father to send him to foreign Christian nations. David had been awaken to the joys of travel by the experience. The ease of flying by zeppelin across the seas, the train rides across the Australian desert and the cities of the Americas and Europe! Still he knew he could not leave China. He was the King of Heavenly Peace, his duty was here. Still...
"I would think it best to send your heir." Came Sat Yen Sen's voice. David did not wince. He was a King of China! To the Manner Borne! Light his hair on fire, tear out his fingernails, stab him, beat him and his face would betray nothing! Thus were the kin of God and the rightful rulers of China trained to their duty. He did however turn to regard the wall.
It was a beautifully painted wall. Showing the martyrdom of the North King at the gates of Beijing at the hands of the Xian rebel army. The King had been his own grandfather's great right hand. Surely if he had not fell all of China would now be Christ's! God moved in mysterious ways.
"I believe my cousin Huizhong is heir yes?" He said affecting indifference. He knew damn well who his bloody heir was! He also knew damn well where this conservation was going! Cursed dutiful advisers.
"Yes, currently. Which reminds me. Your Lordships requires a wife." Sun said dryly. He said that carefully. It wasn't that David didn't like women. He did and found them powerfully attractive in every sense of the word.
Sat Yun Sen knew all about Davids... adventures out in the world. He couldn't fault the boy. His grandfather the Holy Xiuquan had had a full harem of concubines even after the practice had been outlawed. His father Tiangifu had not, but had in the European costume kept a mistress privately. His wife had not minded, it was best not to think about why she hadn't minded. David on the other hand had no improper relationships with any Chinese woman or other such subject of the Taiping nation. He saw it has an abuse of his power.
"Every creature in the kingdom on two legs seems be utterly fascinated on the subject of my marriage. Am I not King? Invested with power by the will of Almighty God? Should not I alone decide the time and place of my wedding and to who?" Muttered David.
"It is because you are King, center of the nation has ordained by God you must marry." Sat Yun Sen pointed out.
"Bah!" David said.
"I would like to see a prince of Taiping born before God calls me home. I know Mao would be comforted as well." Sat Yun Sen pointed out. Any other man would have winced at this point.
"General Mao spoke to you about this?" David considered the general perhaps the most loyal man in the kingdom. It helped that the General had been his instructor in war and thing military. Sat Yun Set nodded. David signaled surrender.
"So be it then. Any ideas?" The King said.
"I think we can discuss that fully with the general... After Baron Chiang leaves the city. If word leaks that you are considering marriage, he'll lay seige the palace!" Sat Yun Sen said with a raspy chuckle. Chiang was the most important Baron in the Kingdom and the only one to swear loyalty directly to the King without a Dukial overlord, but that wasn't enough for the ambitious man. Becoming the King's relative by marriage would be an irresistible plum for him.
"Please teacher, do not even joke about that! Have you seen his nieces?" The King affected a shudder and sat.
Summery--
Taiping Heir to the Throne to be sent to Ethopia.
Soft noncommital answer given to a certain power asking for something
King David to pick a bride.
"Do you see this offer? They promise to protect us from other navies. An interesting offer given most of our shore fortifications are built out of fear of their navy, not the Pacificans or the Mohammedans of Klavoistan! It's not like any of the rebels have a fleet worth speaking of! Bah! The Demon worshipers are shameless!" King Hong David II raged stalking back and forth in one of his private rooms. The recent message from Japan had been a goad to him.
"Perhaps but they do not ask us to do anything we wouldn't do anyways." Sun Yat Sen pointed out. The Cheif Minister was sitting. The heat of the summer had been draining for him. His voice had developed a raspy quality David did not like.
"You should drink more tea." The young King said.
"I should. I should also council you to speak softly to them. They are for now a stronger empire. Your mission is to bring the faith and union to your people in China. Not to wage Crusade against foregin enemies of Christ. Not yet at least." Sen said and took a drink of tea. The King grunted in reply.
"My Lord King, allow me to write the reply to them. There are other issues to consider. The Ethiopians crown a new Emperor soon. We have received an invitation." Sat said, he would have to work his way to the real important matter slowly.
"Ah... We cannot slight them that is for sure! Ethiopia was a Christian nation when China was in the grips of idolatry and murdering our daughters in bad years. The new Emperor of Ethiopia would be my brother in Christ. I dare not risk God's anger in insulting him... " King Hong David II said trailing off. When he had been younger it had pleased his father to send him to foreign Christian nations. David had been awaken to the joys of travel by the experience. The ease of flying by zeppelin across the seas, the train rides across the Australian desert and the cities of the Americas and Europe! Still he knew he could not leave China. He was the King of Heavenly Peace, his duty was here. Still...
"I would think it best to send your heir." Came Sat Yen Sen's voice. David did not wince. He was a King of China! To the Manner Borne! Light his hair on fire, tear out his fingernails, stab him, beat him and his face would betray nothing! Thus were the kin of God and the rightful rulers of China trained to their duty. He did however turn to regard the wall.
It was a beautifully painted wall. Showing the martyrdom of the North King at the gates of Beijing at the hands of the Xian rebel army. The King had been his own grandfather's great right hand. Surely if he had not fell all of China would now be Christ's! God moved in mysterious ways.
"I believe my cousin Huizhong is heir yes?" He said affecting indifference. He knew damn well who his bloody heir was! He also knew damn well where this conservation was going! Cursed dutiful advisers.
"Yes, currently. Which reminds me. Your Lordships requires a wife." Sun said dryly. He said that carefully. It wasn't that David didn't like women. He did and found them powerfully attractive in every sense of the word.
Sat Yun Sen knew all about Davids... adventures out in the world. He couldn't fault the boy. His grandfather the Holy Xiuquan had had a full harem of concubines even after the practice had been outlawed. His father Tiangifu had not, but had in the European costume kept a mistress privately. His wife had not minded, it was best not to think about why she hadn't minded. David on the other hand had no improper relationships with any Chinese woman or other such subject of the Taiping nation. He saw it has an abuse of his power.
"Every creature in the kingdom on two legs seems be utterly fascinated on the subject of my marriage. Am I not King? Invested with power by the will of Almighty God? Should not I alone decide the time and place of my wedding and to who?" Muttered David.
"It is because you are King, center of the nation has ordained by God you must marry." Sat Yun Sen pointed out.
"Bah!" David said.
"I would like to see a prince of Taiping born before God calls me home. I know Mao would be comforted as well." Sat Yun Sen pointed out. Any other man would have winced at this point.
"General Mao spoke to you about this?" David considered the general perhaps the most loyal man in the kingdom. It helped that the General had been his instructor in war and thing military. Sat Yun Set nodded. David signaled surrender.
"So be it then. Any ideas?" The King said.
"I think we can discuss that fully with the general... After Baron Chiang leaves the city. If word leaks that you are considering marriage, he'll lay seige the palace!" Sat Yun Sen said with a raspy chuckle. Chiang was the most important Baron in the Kingdom and the only one to swear loyalty directly to the King without a Dukial overlord, but that wasn't enough for the ambitious man. Becoming the King's relative by marriage would be an irresistible plum for him.
"Please teacher, do not even joke about that! Have you seen his nieces?" The King affected a shudder and sat.
Summery--
Taiping Heir to the Throne to be sent to Ethopia.
Soft noncommital answer given to a certain power asking for something
King David to pick a bride.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
#92
Radio Broadcast
Friday, June 27, 1930
Rossiya
Scandal in Khiva! Imam Mezhlauk, a prominent figure in Turkestan's far right Muslim circles, was arrested yesterday by Tsarist officials on charges of fraud, corruption, embezzlement, and unspecified crimes against the State.
The Imam has been a key figure over the last decade in a growing Islamist revivalist movement among Turkmen. The leaders of this movement advocate the rejection of all secular influence, religious innovation, and anti-Islamic tradition. They say that Turkmenistan shall remain under the heel of the Infidel as long as its people live in sin, and the only hope for salvation is to embrace the true teachings of the Prophet.
Mezhlauk's message, carried by fiery rethoric and a booming voice, has inspired tens of thousands and created a vast following. His call for donations to create Sharia courts and other Islamic institutions resulted in an outpouring of hundreds of thousands of rubley. It is this large sum of cash that the Imam stands accused of misappropriating.
Public opinion among Imam Mezhlauk's supporters is fiercely divided. Many believe that Tsarist authorities have framed a righteous man because they fear him and his message. Others angrily denounce the Imam as a fraud and an example of all that is wrong with modern Muslims. Whatever the case, there can be no question that the cause of the Islamic revivalists has been dealt a severe blow by this development.
The accused is currently being held at an unspecified location in or near Khiva. Rumors that Mezhlauk was seen boarding a train under heavy police escort shortly before dawn have been vigorously denied.
Summary: Prominent fundamentalist Imam in Turkestan has been caught embezzling money. The people are angry, some at him, some at the authorities.
Friday, June 27, 1930
Rossiya
Scandal in Khiva! Imam Mezhlauk, a prominent figure in Turkestan's far right Muslim circles, was arrested yesterday by Tsarist officials on charges of fraud, corruption, embezzlement, and unspecified crimes against the State.
The Imam has been a key figure over the last decade in a growing Islamist revivalist movement among Turkmen. The leaders of this movement advocate the rejection of all secular influence, religious innovation, and anti-Islamic tradition. They say that Turkmenistan shall remain under the heel of the Infidel as long as its people live in sin, and the only hope for salvation is to embrace the true teachings of the Prophet.
Mezhlauk's message, carried by fiery rethoric and a booming voice, has inspired tens of thousands and created a vast following. His call for donations to create Sharia courts and other Islamic institutions resulted in an outpouring of hundreds of thousands of rubley. It is this large sum of cash that the Imam stands accused of misappropriating.
Public opinion among Imam Mezhlauk's supporters is fiercely divided. Many believe that Tsarist authorities have framed a righteous man because they fear him and his message. Others angrily denounce the Imam as a fraud and an example of all that is wrong with modern Muslims. Whatever the case, there can be no question that the cause of the Islamic revivalists has been dealt a severe blow by this development.
The accused is currently being held at an unspecified location in or near Khiva. Rumors that Mezhlauk was seen boarding a train under heavy police escort shortly before dawn have been vigorously denied.
Summary: Prominent fundamentalist Imam in Turkestan has been caught embezzling money. The people are angry, some at him, some at the authorities.
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Academia Nut
- Adept
- Posts: 1333
- Joined: Sun Sep 21, 2008 9:52 am
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- Contact:
#93
May 7, 1930
Dehli, Mughal Empire
"Oh no they don't!" Shaheen cries out, slamming the missive from Klavostan down on his desk. "The Klavos do not get to move on the petty Malay kingdoms without our say so and think that we will just let it happen!"
The retainers and servants about the padshah watch him fume, before he pulls out his phone and calls up his brother Shahzubin and says, "Brother, the Klavos are getting uppity. Prepare for Operation Shikoh."
There is a pause on the other end of the line before the Marshal of the Armies says, "Brother? The Klavos... and Operation Shikoh? Ooh! Of course my king, of course!"
June 1, 1930
Yangon, Mughal Empire
Forces from across the empire were flooding into the capital of the Burmese province, a vast multitude of men from a wide variety of cultures from across the subcontinent. Sihks, Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists of every martial tribe and creed were flooding in to the city from deployments across the empire, most from the occupational forces in Afghanistan or patrol on the Vasan border, but some were being called in from the jungles of Burma and Siam, and the core of the army was the elite troops normally on guard in Delhi, the Padshah's Own.
Meanwhile the harbours were flooding with support ships and warships resupplying before being sent back out to avoid overly clogging the harbours. Planes were coming in as well, it seemed like nearly every aircraft in the empire was converging on Yangon. It seemed that more than just saber rattling was going on in Delhi.
Posters also littered the streets, recruitment drives and urging people to make sure to show up for militia training.
~Redeployment according to Special Deployment Force converging on Yangon
~Beginning reserves activation
Dehli, Mughal Empire
"Oh no they don't!" Shaheen cries out, slamming the missive from Klavostan down on his desk. "The Klavos do not get to move on the petty Malay kingdoms without our say so and think that we will just let it happen!"
The retainers and servants about the padshah watch him fume, before he pulls out his phone and calls up his brother Shahzubin and says, "Brother, the Klavos are getting uppity. Prepare for Operation Shikoh."
There is a pause on the other end of the line before the Marshal of the Armies says, "Brother? The Klavos... and Operation Shikoh? Ooh! Of course my king, of course!"
June 1, 1930
Yangon, Mughal Empire
Forces from across the empire were flooding into the capital of the Burmese province, a vast multitude of men from a wide variety of cultures from across the subcontinent. Sihks, Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists of every martial tribe and creed were flooding in to the city from deployments across the empire, most from the occupational forces in Afghanistan or patrol on the Vasan border, but some were being called in from the jungles of Burma and Siam, and the core of the army was the elite troops normally on guard in Delhi, the Padshah's Own.
Meanwhile the harbours were flooding with support ships and warships resupplying before being sent back out to avoid overly clogging the harbours. Planes were coming in as well, it seemed like nearly every aircraft in the empire was converging on Yangon. It seemed that more than just saber rattling was going on in Delhi.
Posters also littered the streets, recruitment drives and urging people to make sure to show up for militia training.
~Redeployment according to Special Deployment Force converging on Yangon
~Beginning reserves activation
Last edited by Academia Nut on Wed Jan 20, 2010 4:05 pm, edited 2 times in total.
#94
A diplomatic note delivered to the German legation in Madagascar City.
Pursuant to the decision of the Madagascar Freehold Consortium you are hereby advised of the following decision. Due to the continuing unprovoked bellicosity of the German state, the threats to global peace and trade, and the continued hostility towards the commercial interests of Madagascar we are now left with little choice. We are hereby declaring the German legation persona non grata in the Madagascar Freehold and are suspending all mercantile permissions to German-owned businesses within Madagascar territory. All German flagged vessels are hereby ordered to depart from Madagascar waters no later than three (3) days from the official posting of this decision. All German holdings on the Madagascar Stock Exchange are hereby frozen, trading licenses for all German-owned stock brokerages are suspended. Note that this is not a declaration of open hostilities, but rather an expression of our intense disapproval of the conduct of the German state. It is our hope that Germany will reconsider their hostile and bellicose behavior and return to a peaceful stance. As soon as Germany ceases their blatant aggression and permits free and fair trade once more we will, of course, reconsider and revise this policy.
----------
Message sent to all states other than Germany. Distribution list includes current German allies.
Please be advised that the Madagascar Consortium is currently offering to all states that do business with Germany the following: we are willing and able to provide any and all goods currently provided by Germany at a significant discount in cost. Shipments can begin immediately to the port of entry of convenience, and due to the current circumstances generous financing terms are available to smooth the transition period. Moreover, any state which pledges opposition to the current German militaristic regime shall be eligible for infrastructure improvement loans at a generous discount, please contact the Consortium embassy for details.
----------
The immense warehouses that lined the relatively small, in comparison, airfields outside of Madagascar City were extremely full, stuffed to the rafters with partially disassembled but fully maintained aircraft of the Madagascar Air Reserve. Teams of technicians were constantly at work, the nature of the Madagascar military leaving a rather massive 'tail' of technicians, mechanics and factory workers in comparison to the 'teeth' of actual soldiers. On the lowest floor fighters and bombers were being reassembled and tested, although only ferry pilots had been called up. The massive swarms of aircraft were being readied... not so much to strengthen Madagascar's military as to strengthen her diplomacy. Sweetening deals with a few groups of modern fighters was a rather... wise investment of resources in the eyes of the Consortium. Even disassembled and stored, they still took up excessive space, and there was no realistic prospective of reactivating all of them to service, as they'd require more airfield space than Madagascar had territory.
----------
"Of course I'll attend, the Ethiopians have been wonderful customers of ours, and the Chief Executive of the Consortium has attended every Ethiopian coronation that we've been invited to since our founding." said the surprisingly young CEO of the Madagascar Freehold Consortium, the effective chief of state of Madagascar. "I'm sure Admiral Sato will have a vessel available that is suitable, it would scarcely by wise to travel by airship with the damned Huns so close in South Africa, not after they find out that we're not going to roll over and play dead as they attempt to destroy our markets via conquest."
"I'll make sure to inform the Ethiopians of our plans then, Sir." came the expected reply.
-----
Summary - Diplomatic notes delivered to the German legation concerning Madagascar's response to German aggression.
- Diplomatic offers sent to all other states of economic assistance and price-undercutting of German exports
- Air reserves prepared (but not called up) for potential transfers to friendly states
- Madagascar Freehold Consortium CEO prepares to travel to Ethiopia for the coronation.
Pursuant to the decision of the Madagascar Freehold Consortium you are hereby advised of the following decision. Due to the continuing unprovoked bellicosity of the German state, the threats to global peace and trade, and the continued hostility towards the commercial interests of Madagascar we are now left with little choice. We are hereby declaring the German legation persona non grata in the Madagascar Freehold and are suspending all mercantile permissions to German-owned businesses within Madagascar territory. All German flagged vessels are hereby ordered to depart from Madagascar waters no later than three (3) days from the official posting of this decision. All German holdings on the Madagascar Stock Exchange are hereby frozen, trading licenses for all German-owned stock brokerages are suspended. Note that this is not a declaration of open hostilities, but rather an expression of our intense disapproval of the conduct of the German state. It is our hope that Germany will reconsider their hostile and bellicose behavior and return to a peaceful stance. As soon as Germany ceases their blatant aggression and permits free and fair trade once more we will, of course, reconsider and revise this policy.
----------
Message sent to all states other than Germany. Distribution list includes current German allies.
Please be advised that the Madagascar Consortium is currently offering to all states that do business with Germany the following: we are willing and able to provide any and all goods currently provided by Germany at a significant discount in cost. Shipments can begin immediately to the port of entry of convenience, and due to the current circumstances generous financing terms are available to smooth the transition period. Moreover, any state which pledges opposition to the current German militaristic regime shall be eligible for infrastructure improvement loans at a generous discount, please contact the Consortium embassy for details.
----------
The immense warehouses that lined the relatively small, in comparison, airfields outside of Madagascar City were extremely full, stuffed to the rafters with partially disassembled but fully maintained aircraft of the Madagascar Air Reserve. Teams of technicians were constantly at work, the nature of the Madagascar military leaving a rather massive 'tail' of technicians, mechanics and factory workers in comparison to the 'teeth' of actual soldiers. On the lowest floor fighters and bombers were being reassembled and tested, although only ferry pilots had been called up. The massive swarms of aircraft were being readied... not so much to strengthen Madagascar's military as to strengthen her diplomacy. Sweetening deals with a few groups of modern fighters was a rather... wise investment of resources in the eyes of the Consortium. Even disassembled and stored, they still took up excessive space, and there was no realistic prospective of reactivating all of them to service, as they'd require more airfield space than Madagascar had territory.
----------
"Of course I'll attend, the Ethiopians have been wonderful customers of ours, and the Chief Executive of the Consortium has attended every Ethiopian coronation that we've been invited to since our founding." said the surprisingly young CEO of the Madagascar Freehold Consortium, the effective chief of state of Madagascar. "I'm sure Admiral Sato will have a vessel available that is suitable, it would scarcely by wise to travel by airship with the damned Huns so close in South Africa, not after they find out that we're not going to roll over and play dead as they attempt to destroy our markets via conquest."
"I'll make sure to inform the Ethiopians of our plans then, Sir." came the expected reply.
-----
Summary - Diplomatic notes delivered to the German legation concerning Madagascar's response to German aggression.
- Diplomatic offers sent to all other states of economic assistance and price-undercutting of German exports
- Air reserves prepared (but not called up) for potential transfers to friendly states
- Madagascar Freehold Consortium CEO prepares to travel to Ethiopia for the coronation.
-
Comrade Tortoise
- Exemplar
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#95
To: Madagascar Freehold
From: Staatsminister Johann Frosch, Deutches Federalische Republik
In response to your short sighted and indeed wrongheaded decision to declare our diplomatic envoy persona non grata, and your actions against our economic interests we are levying equivalent sanctions against your government.
We would remind you that in no way have we engaged in bloodshed throughout this period of tension, nor have we in any way interfered with trade, which is your primary interest in this European affair. Moreover, you levy these sanctions while the United States and Mexico are preparing to go to war in a matter of days. As a matter of fact, you threaten your own neutrality and compromise your own principles by putting into motion your course of action. Were you truly dedicated to free trade as you claim then suspending our economic operations within your territory would be anathema to you.
That having been said we have entered into negotiations with Rome which should put an end to hostilities without the need for bloodshed, or undue perturbations to global trade. If it is indeed your intention to preserve peace and the free trade that goes along with it, said negotiations should demonstrate our peaceful intent to your satisfaction. During these negotiations we have put our military on stand down pending the success or failure of these negotiations.
From: Staatsminister Johann Frosch, Deutches Federalische Republik
In response to your short sighted and indeed wrongheaded decision to declare our diplomatic envoy persona non grata, and your actions against our economic interests we are levying equivalent sanctions against your government.
We would remind you that in no way have we engaged in bloodshed throughout this period of tension, nor have we in any way interfered with trade, which is your primary interest in this European affair. Moreover, you levy these sanctions while the United States and Mexico are preparing to go to war in a matter of days. As a matter of fact, you threaten your own neutrality and compromise your own principles by putting into motion your course of action. Were you truly dedicated to free trade as you claim then suspending our economic operations within your territory would be anathema to you.
That having been said we have entered into negotiations with Rome which should put an end to hostilities without the need for bloodshed, or undue perturbations to global trade. If it is indeed your intention to preserve peace and the free trade that goes along with it, said negotiations should demonstrate our peaceful intent to your satisfaction. During these negotiations we have put our military on stand down pending the success or failure of these negotiations.
"Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution."
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
#96
The Vasan Commonwealth lets it be known it will not tolerate any significant territorial adjustments in Europe.
OOC: Yes, I'm serious.
OOC: Yes, I'm serious.
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frigidmagi
- Dragon Death-Marine General
- Posts: 14757
- Joined: Wed Jun 08, 2005 11:03 am
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#97
Shanghai Times Editorial Page
German Aggression! Rome Slapped in the Face! Vasa Howls Defiance!
The European Axis showed it's true face in "diplomatic negations" with Rome this month. The German Chancellor Rommel demanded with high handed presumption and arrogance that Rome submit to being dismantled and disarmed. The demands gentle readers are not for the timid to read, but have been revealed as follows:
I: Surrender of all of Rome's American Holdings to German Control
II: Surrender of Gibraltar and Northern Africa, including Egypt and the Suez to France
III: Surrender of Province to France
III: Surrender of the Balkans, including Greece to Greater Hungary
IV: Disbanding of all Roman heavy land units
V: Destruction of Roman bombers
VI: Destruction of Roman Battleships and subs
VII: Agreement to submit to any demands Russia undertakes separately
Both Germany and France are secular Republics, ignoring their glorious Christian heritage and openly abandoning the moral teachings of Christ. No where is that more clear then in their dealings with Rome. It is true Rome is a pagan state! The old pagan idols are openly displayed and all men are expected to do honor upon them. But millions of Romans are Christians! Heretics perhaps but worshipers of Christ and therefore brothers and sisters no matter their faults and mistakes. What right does Germany give for this? What provocations has Rome given? None and None! This is the strong preying on whomever they believe cannot resist. This is the sin of greed and pride my readers and we should all be aghast! I pray unto heaven itself that our noble King Hong David II will heed to the call of his divine blood and sever relations with such barbarians! It is here and no where else we see the open depravity and utter shamelessness of the secular state! Let us be spared such chains!
But it is not just the Atheists who must carry shame from this. Their most Christian majesties the King of Hungary and Tsar of Russia appear to be involved. It is the alliance of Hungary with Germany that gives the power to enslave poor Rome. It on the bayonets of the Hungarian Army, the most numerous and powerful army on the European Continent that brings Rome to heel. The King of Hungary should be ashamed himself! To tear apart a neighbor that he has lived in peace with in a frenzy of naked greed! It is no better then if he took a club and went do the next house down the street beat the man living there to death, enslaved his wife and children and carried off his goods! I can only assume he has gone mad or fallen into darkness!
But is the acts of the Tsar that frighten me most my readers. Was not the Tsar our first ally? Did not he alone heed his Christian duty to aide his Chinese Brother in Christ? Do we now not have among us Russian Christians and Jews, the children and grandchildren of teachers and engineers who gave us the benefits of modern industry and education? Are not your Bibles printed from presses the Russians taught us to make? For that man who earlier in his reign showed so much Christian goodness and strength to ally himself with the pit of darkness that the Axis has shown itself is a living testament to the power of Satan! The Devil himself has whispered into the Tsar ears and woe until the faithful for the Tsar has listened! Pray for Russia! Pray that it does not fall further into darkness!
But Glory unto the line of Vasa! Alone of the nations of Europe the Vasan King has cried out against the injustice of this aggression against Rome. Alone heeding his Christian duty and the word of God he has moved to defend those being trod down by the wicked! The armies of the Commonwealth have marshaled and are prepared to defend the right and my prayers go out to them. May God remember his faithful son in Vasa and lift him up so men may marvel at the power and glory of the one true God!
May the light of Christ continue to shine on his nephew King Hong David II and may he continue to shield us from the darkness that grows ever stronger. Readers, clearly the Axis is Satan's hand on earth. Pray for Vasa! Pray for Rome! Pray that Russia remembers the word of God! Pray for Righteous King David! That he may keep such wickedness from our lands!
Christ be with you
Guang Rui June 5th
Nanjing
"The Mughals are doing what?" King David said a bit tightly.
"They're mobilizing their reserves." General Mao reported quietly. He was visiting the capital from his front office, which wasn't really that far away. As the highest military man in the Kingdom he often got reports first, even if they didn't exactly have much to do with his post guarding the frontier against the Xian rebels.
"Europe and the Americas go crazy and now this... Has Yunnan or the other rebels reacted yet?" The King asked.
"No my Lord, but it will have to be soon. The terrain between Yunnan and the Mughals is rough but not impassible. If they wish to guard against us and the Muslims, they have to activate their reserves." General Mao said grimly.
"It must be some king of European sickness that's spreading. Otherwise God has simply decided to make most of the world's leader go insane all at once. Could the Mughal be aimed at us?" King David asked.
"I don't think so my lord, the would need to buy off or fight off the Klavos and the Japanese. The Japanese at least are devoted to keeping the Mughal out of China. It's one of the few things everyone involved here agrees on." The general replied.
"God's own truth. Last thing we need is the Mughal Empire here! Still Yunnan will have to activate and their warlords are getting twitchy under that damn drunk of a so called king... What do you advise general?" King David asked.
"I think given the environment... It's best to summon up the reserves my lord. We can keep them longer then Yunnan or Xian in any case. Let's not chances in the rising chaos."
"Agreed, sent out of the orders." That one brief sentence would send millions of men and women into motion as the Kingdom of Taiping roused itself.
Summery:
Taiping Public Opinion of Germany and Axis powers drops.
Taiping activates reserves.
German Aggression! Rome Slapped in the Face! Vasa Howls Defiance!
The European Axis showed it's true face in "diplomatic negations" with Rome this month. The German Chancellor Rommel demanded with high handed presumption and arrogance that Rome submit to being dismantled and disarmed. The demands gentle readers are not for the timid to read, but have been revealed as follows:
I: Surrender of all of Rome's American Holdings to German Control
II: Surrender of Gibraltar and Northern Africa, including Egypt and the Suez to France
III: Surrender of Province to France
III: Surrender of the Balkans, including Greece to Greater Hungary
IV: Disbanding of all Roman heavy land units
V: Destruction of Roman bombers
VI: Destruction of Roman Battleships and subs
VII: Agreement to submit to any demands Russia undertakes separately
Both Germany and France are secular Republics, ignoring their glorious Christian heritage and openly abandoning the moral teachings of Christ. No where is that more clear then in their dealings with Rome. It is true Rome is a pagan state! The old pagan idols are openly displayed and all men are expected to do honor upon them. But millions of Romans are Christians! Heretics perhaps but worshipers of Christ and therefore brothers and sisters no matter their faults and mistakes. What right does Germany give for this? What provocations has Rome given? None and None! This is the strong preying on whomever they believe cannot resist. This is the sin of greed and pride my readers and we should all be aghast! I pray unto heaven itself that our noble King Hong David II will heed to the call of his divine blood and sever relations with such barbarians! It is here and no where else we see the open depravity and utter shamelessness of the secular state! Let us be spared such chains!
But it is not just the Atheists who must carry shame from this. Their most Christian majesties the King of Hungary and Tsar of Russia appear to be involved. It is the alliance of Hungary with Germany that gives the power to enslave poor Rome. It on the bayonets of the Hungarian Army, the most numerous and powerful army on the European Continent that brings Rome to heel. The King of Hungary should be ashamed himself! To tear apart a neighbor that he has lived in peace with in a frenzy of naked greed! It is no better then if he took a club and went do the next house down the street beat the man living there to death, enslaved his wife and children and carried off his goods! I can only assume he has gone mad or fallen into darkness!
But is the acts of the Tsar that frighten me most my readers. Was not the Tsar our first ally? Did not he alone heed his Christian duty to aide his Chinese Brother in Christ? Do we now not have among us Russian Christians and Jews, the children and grandchildren of teachers and engineers who gave us the benefits of modern industry and education? Are not your Bibles printed from presses the Russians taught us to make? For that man who earlier in his reign showed so much Christian goodness and strength to ally himself with the pit of darkness that the Axis has shown itself is a living testament to the power of Satan! The Devil himself has whispered into the Tsar ears and woe until the faithful for the Tsar has listened! Pray for Russia! Pray that it does not fall further into darkness!
But Glory unto the line of Vasa! Alone of the nations of Europe the Vasan King has cried out against the injustice of this aggression against Rome. Alone heeding his Christian duty and the word of God he has moved to defend those being trod down by the wicked! The armies of the Commonwealth have marshaled and are prepared to defend the right and my prayers go out to them. May God remember his faithful son in Vasa and lift him up so men may marvel at the power and glory of the one true God!
May the light of Christ continue to shine on his nephew King Hong David II and may he continue to shield us from the darkness that grows ever stronger. Readers, clearly the Axis is Satan's hand on earth. Pray for Vasa! Pray for Rome! Pray that Russia remembers the word of God! Pray for Righteous King David! That he may keep such wickedness from our lands!
Christ be with you
Guang Rui June 5th
Nanjing
"The Mughals are doing what?" King David said a bit tightly.
"They're mobilizing their reserves." General Mao reported quietly. He was visiting the capital from his front office, which wasn't really that far away. As the highest military man in the Kingdom he often got reports first, even if they didn't exactly have much to do with his post guarding the frontier against the Xian rebels.
"Europe and the Americas go crazy and now this... Has Yunnan or the other rebels reacted yet?" The King asked.
"No my Lord, but it will have to be soon. The terrain between Yunnan and the Mughals is rough but not impassible. If they wish to guard against us and the Muslims, they have to activate their reserves." General Mao said grimly.
"It must be some king of European sickness that's spreading. Otherwise God has simply decided to make most of the world's leader go insane all at once. Could the Mughal be aimed at us?" King David asked.
"I don't think so my lord, the would need to buy off or fight off the Klavos and the Japanese. The Japanese at least are devoted to keeping the Mughal out of China. It's one of the few things everyone involved here agrees on." The general replied.
"God's own truth. Last thing we need is the Mughal Empire here! Still Yunnan will have to activate and their warlords are getting twitchy under that damn drunk of a so called king... What do you advise general?" King David asked.
"I think given the environment... It's best to summon up the reserves my lord. We can keep them longer then Yunnan or Xian in any case. Let's not chances in the rising chaos."
"Agreed, sent out of the orders." That one brief sentence would send millions of men and women into motion as the Kingdom of Taiping roused itself.
Summery:
Taiping Public Opinion of Germany and Axis powers drops.
Taiping activates reserves.
Last edited by frigidmagi on Wed Jan 20, 2010 7:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
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General Havoc
- Mr. Party-Killbot
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- Contact:
#98
6 Junius, MMDCLXXXIII Ab Urbe Condita
The message came for Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii in the Royal Palace at Budapest.
Midnight in Rome was 1 o'clock in Budapest, not that anyone was prepared to sleep at this hour, least of all the Junior Consul Ordinarius. The events of this week had been too great, too important for the security of Rome, to keep any kind of rational sleep schedule. Standing now in the mirrored hall of the wondrously opulent palace, and feeling every one of his 51 years, the man they called Paterturcii took a moment to reflect.
The news from Ivanus Bonomius Mediator's mission to Hamburg had hit Rome with the force of a Thunderbolt from Jupiter, and sent seismic shockwaves through every level of Roman society. There was disbelief, there was rage, there was fear and panic. The Romans, never a terribly church-going people, had flocked to cathedrals, mosques, or temples to pray for their families, homes, Empire. The Pope, still ministering in Rome, had found himself thronged not by Catholics (of which Italy was still well supplied), but by everyone from proletarii to senators, so many thronged supplicants asking for his intercession that the Praetor Urbanus had deputed a hundred men from the Praetorian Guard to escort the Pontiff throughout the land.
Elsewhere there was chaos. Crowds of angry Romans stoned the German Embassy in Rome and the Consulates in Constantinople, Carthage, and Jerusalem, hurling ordure and garbage over the walls. The German Colony in the Palestinian city of Haifa was attacked by mob of rioters, kept at bay with difficulty by the local Auxilia militia. Panicked reports of German and Hungarian aircraft flying over Greece and the Adriatic Sea flooded in at every hour. In Gallia Transalpina, angry men stood in the forums of Avennio and Massalia and denounced the government in flowery Latin rhetoric, damning Ivanus Bonomius Mediator by name as a coward who was preparing to abandon them to the dominion of Paris. In Turcia it was the same, and Macedonia, and Epirus, as the non-Italian citizens of the Roman Empire awoke one day to find themselves threatened with disenfranchisement, abandonment, subjugation to one of a half dozen powers, each of them alien in a way Rome had ceased to be many centuries ago.
And behind this entire wave of panic and fear, there lay the indellible words of the Roman Senior Consul. "All efforts to achieve peace with honor having failed, the German-led alliance of nations has demanded the surrender of the following territories..."
In Budapest, Paterturcii had spent the last four days in round-the-clock negotiations, trying with all his oratorical and diplomatic might to persuade the Hungarians, the strongest army and air force in Europe to remain aloof from the impending crisis. Ever since word had arrived of Bonomius Mediator's failure, this had been his sole purpose, and across the Empire, tens of millions of citizens, some of whom had cursed Paterturcii's very name the week before, prayed to Gods without count that he might succeed. Yet nothing but defeat had greeted all his efforts. The Hungarians saw only the possibilities of aggrandizement, and the glory of Greece. They would not remain aloof. They would make demands on Rome, and should they not be accepted, they would take their demands by force. Paterturcii had failed.
Such was the news in the papers, at least.
And so it was that tonight, on the morning of the sixth day of the month called Junius, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii stood in the Great Hall of the Hungarian Royal Palace, and was silent. No speeches, no meetings, no negotiation sessions would he attend this night. In his hand he held the morning edition of the Observator Romanum, the leading daily newspaper of the City of Rome. In it was printed the news that Ivanus Bonomius Mediator had abruptly resigned his post as Senior Consul, and a digest of his oration to the citizens thereof. In that oration he had spoken of resolution in defeat, of stoicism, of soldiering on despite the misfortunes and inequities of fate, yet all had seen that his heart was not in it. His booming voice stilled, his lively eyes dead, he spoke like a man drugged, his hair white as it had never been, his posture stooped, and every man knew why. A broken, defeated man, his dreams of peace and stability dashed, he would retire, he said, to Mantuae, his home town, and there compose his memoires. None needed to be reminded that Mantuae was within the boundaries of the Northern Italian lands that the Germans would no doubt soon be annexing, nor did the paper refrain from pronouncing that the memoires the ex-consul was preparing to write would be the epitaph of the Glory that had been Rome. Though many had blamed him for the surrender being prepared, the crowds could not find it within themselves to condemn an old man broken so. The rheumatic tears in his eyes had been their own. Garlanded with flowers, ten thousand men and women had carried Ivanus Bonomius Mediator on their shoulders to the Domus Publica that was his residence, and stood vigil now outside it with candles and placards of good will. One had been photographed and splashed on the front page of the Observator.
"Dearest Mediator," it said, "we understand."
Thus was a good man destroyed. Thus died an age.
But troubling as these thoughts were to Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, now the sole Consul that Rome possessed, at this moment he was not engaged in trying to rectify them. No meetings, no debates, no negotiation sessions were scheduled for this morning. This morning was left alone, a void in the schedules of public men whose time was more precious than gold. This morning was an aberration, as though all the mechanisms of the world had ceased to function, and knew not what to do with themselves, and it remained for men of will to make of the new day what they would.
Or not of will, of Discrimen.
Such a perfectly Roman word, that. Discrimen was a term that existed in no other language, though it had inspired many. It meant a moment, a special, specific moment, of incalculable importance. A moment in which a decision had to be made, one of such profound importance and unimaginable consequence, that the reverberations of that decision would echo through history into perpetuity. A moment of Discrimen was the ultimate test of a Roman, a moment when everything, all that a man was or ever would be, when the fate of peoples and nations and Empires hung in the balance. A moment when the odds were unfathomable, the consequences tremendous and terrible, when men felt the Gods themselves watching them, waiting to see what they would do.
A messenger, liveried in the Hungarian Page service, approached with a bow, and handed Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii a note. He scanned its contents briefly, took a long, deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned to the young man.
"Bring me the red telephone," said Paterturcii.
Two thousand years before, a man had stood on a riverbank in northern Italy, watching the waters flow before him. A minor stream, that river, and yet one of unfathomable importance. That man, Gaius Julius Caesar, had faced Discrimen that morning, an Empire held in the balance of his decision, and the choice he had made had changed the world. Nor was he the only one. Cola di Rienzus Tribunus Maximus had faced Discrimen when he had taken it upon himself to defy the Pope, and declare the independence of Rome, beginning a process of renewal that outlasted himself by centuries. Napoleon Buonapartus Magnus Restutitor had faced Discrimen that day in the forum when he had mounted the Rostra and called on the citizens to overthrow the Kings.
He picked up the telephone.
Five hundred miles away, in Mediolanum, Marcus Sarpaedius lifted the other end.
"Imperator," said Rome's only Consul.
"Mustaphus Cemal," came the voice of Marcus Sarpaedius, "our fleet has entered the Straits of Gibraltar en-route to the Antilles. The Army of the Balkans is prepared to begin Operation Perseus. Everything is at maximum readiness."
Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii was not a religious man. Neither his native Islam, nor the Greek Orthodox faith of many of his fellow Turcians had ever had the slightest appeal to him. Yet now, standing here, he felt as though the weight of Heaven was bearing down on him.
"What are your commands, Consul Ordinarius?"
Paterturcii half-turned, the receiver of the telephone still held to his ear. To his right, approached Gabor Ilona, the Hungarian Foreign minister whose wrathful diatribes against Roman perfidity the papers had reported dutifully these past few days. She stood now aside, watching the Senior Consul carefully.
"Tell me, Marcus Sarpaedius," said Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, "do you still think that I am a Turcian hayseed, come to destroy Rome?"
Several seconds of silence on the other end of the line followed, and when the young Imperator responded, his voice was shaken.
"Mustaphus Cemal," he said with utmost care, "the Senior Consul is dying. The provinces believe that they are about to be abandoned to alien powers. The people are in terror, and the ship of state is without a helmsman." The head of the Consularum Militarius cleared his throat. "If you do not save the Empire, then we will fall into a thousand years of darkness. By all the Gods of Rome, by my own forefathers, and by the power vested in me by the Senate and People of Rome, I ask for your commands. You are the First Man in Rome."
Paterturcii, looking into the eyes of the Hungarian foreign minister, felt, in that moment, a sensation of utter calm flow over him like a blanket, and knew, with a certainty that he had never before known, that this was his moment of Discrimen.
"Cross the Rubicon," said Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, and then he hung up the phone.
*------------------------------------------------------------------*
In the halls of the military headquarters of the Roman Empire, the bees began to stir.
First some, then many electrical signals, transmitted by telegraph wires that crossed three continents, reached out from the city of Mediolanum, and touched every corner of the Roman World. Over seas and mountains they stretched, bridging rivers and bringing the orders of Paterturcii and the Imperator Romanum, Marcus Sarpaedius, to the men and officers whose charge it was to see these orders carried out. The orders stretched to Lleida in Aragon, to Gibraltar in Spain, to Aosta in the north and Oran in the south. The orders went to Army headquarters in Massalia, in Venice, in Serdica, in Ancyra, stretched across cables running over the Atlantic Ocean clear to distant Havanna and Civitas Consularum. From there they radiated in every direction, to legionary camps, airfields, relay stations on the storm-beaten coast of the Mare Nostrum. And as these commands radiated out, like the nervous signals of a human body, the muscles and ligaments that they controlled began to move.
In the Straits of Gibraltar, the fleet began to turn.
The Fourth Legion had been redeployed from Antillia to Gibraltar pending re-organization, and the Fourteenth Legion had been ordered west to take their place. Much angry rhetoric had been directed Rome's way as a result, by Mexican and American diplomats who were not happy to see battlefleets and armies invading territory they considered their own backyard. Many had speculated what the Romans could possibly be thinking, re-enforcing the region in such numbers, angering the Americans and Mexicans, and why they would send so much of their forces so far afield.
The answer was simple. The Romans had never intended to send an army and fleet to Cuba. All they had wanted was an excuse to concentrate 85% of the Roman navy in the Straits of Gibraltar, in close escort of two full legions of troops, all of whom were scheduled to transit through the straits at the same time.
In the silent darkness of the pre-radar night, the combined Roman fleet divided in three. The submarines moved west, fanning out to form a cordon, and watch for any hostile ships that might seek to approach and molest the Roman flotilla. The bulk of the surface forces sailed west and then south, down the coast towards the city of Casablanca. The remainder remained in the straits themselves, turning prows south towards the Moroccan shore before presenting their broadsides to the French-held cities of Ceuta and Tangiers.
As the day dawned, two squadrons of aircraft from the airbases at Gibraltar, coupled with the entire air groups of five aircraft carriers descended on Casablanca and Tangiers like a swarm of angry wasps, targeting airfields and coastal defenses with impunity, and behind them thundered the guns of the largest warships in the Mediterranean. Juggernauts with names that resonated through the ages, Poseidon, Triton, Nemesis, Erinyes, Nike, the battlewagons blasted everything in sight, be they ships docked in the harbor or troops emplaced on the ground. With them fired smaller ships, of no less glorious lineage, Athens, Syracuse, Orpheus, Draco, Marcus Tullius Cicero, the list rolled on, names on a dull page of history roaring back to life with fire and vengeance for the foes of Rome. The old battlecruiser Zeus, flanked by destroyers and shrouded in smoke from her old coal-fed burners, held herself back as the fleet battleships did their work, waiting for the signal to move.
For this was no mere raid, a first strike designed to deny ports and airbases to the enemy. Behind the iron shield of the fleet waited squat, ugly transports, and at a signal, these moved in.
Zeus charged ahead, moving to ten thousand yards offshore, point blank range for a battleship, and added her fire to the tumultous din, as the ships holding the Roman 5th and 6th Marine cohorts stormed ashore under the cover of hundreds of aircraft and the weight of the entire Roman battle line. Behind them came tens of thousands of legionaires of the Fourth and Fourteenth Legions, the Equites and Raptors, who surged to support the marines with every weapon they could bring to bear. Vexillators bearing the standards of the legions, silver eagles held high in the smoke-shrouded morning air, urged their soldiers on, as they surged into the cities of Casblanca, Tangiers, and Ceuta, overwhelming their opposition by weight of local firepower.
By the end of the day, 40,000 Roman soldiers were ashore in Casablanca, and 40,000 more had landed in Tangiers and Ceuta, seizing the southern end of the Straits of Gibraltar as well as the largest port in Morocco. The stunned defenders of the ironically-named French Army of Gibraltar, forced to spread across an entire country and defend the Algerian border from the Roman frontier garrisons, could not possibly concentrate against the landings in time to prevent them, and the Roman navy now stood in full battle regalia at the entrance to the Mediterranean, ready for whatever counteroffensive might tempt it.
The French had demanded that the Romans yield Gibraltar to them. They had just received their answer.
*---------------------------------------------------*
At 0400 hours, local time, the entire Roman border with Germany caught fire.
The German Army of Switzerland was a powerful formation, deployed to prevent a Roman invasion of the region. Ensconced behind mighty border defenses, it challenged the Romans to displace it, as they had tried to do in the fifteenth century, to their ignominy and defeat. One weakness alone it possessed, for along the border itself, manning the defenses that guarded Switzerland from the Legions, the Germans had deployed only a single division of border guards, keeping the rest of their force back in Switzerland proper.
The Romans had not done this.
All at once, a deluge of fire the likes of which no living man had ever seen before descended on the unsuspecting heads of the German frontier garrison as though Hell itself had opened up and vomited forth fire and death. Eleven cohorts of Artillery, three of them wielding gargantuan "Etna" railway guns and "Hecatonshire" Siege Mortars drenched the German positions in fire pre-registered to fall on their concrete fortifications and blockhouses like the thunderbolts of Jupiter Optimus Maximus himself. The very mountains shook with the fury of the Roman bombardment, as an avalanche of explosive destruction poured into the hapless German defenders. From above, the four squadrons of the Roman 3rd Air Fleet descended to add their bombs to the tumult, or to sever the road connections that linked the border forts together. And as this cataclysm unfolded, beneath smoke-shrouded skies, the Legions marched.
The Roman Eighth Legion hit first, the Dead Legion, the 'Mortis', who marched behind Vexilliae of Sable, the very same legion the Germans had annihilated to a man at the Battle of Treculum in the fifteenth century, who had never forgotten their defeat, and who stormed across the border like death commandoes. In their wake followed the Second Legion, the 'Triumphators', whose standards bore witness to the longest series of unbroken triumphs in Roman history. The German border guards were picked men, elite troops trained to defend their Reich and homes to the death, and they fought back ferociously against the Roman assault, but the Roman assault wave was equally well-trained and ferocious, and the Germans were outnumbered seven to one by it, their support simply erased under the power of the Roman artillery, whose shellweight was nine times their own. Ahead the Romans surged, intending to capture the German border fortifications and destroy their border guard division before the Army of Switzerland could re-enforce it.
But immense as this battle must have seemed to those fighting it, it was a mere skirmish compared to what was happening in Gaul.
The French Army of the South had been deployed for a single purpose, to prevent the Roman armies from invading Southern France. And so long as they faced only the Roman Army of Gaul, the First and Seventh legions emplaced along the Rhondanus River, with reserves in Massalia, they had a credible chance of doing this. Four divisions strong, with seven tank brigades and a handful of elite infantry regiments, they were outnumbered by the Roman Gallic army, but not to a degree that would make defense impossible, for they had fortifications and the river itself to protect them, as well as the French Air Force...
... which was the first thing the Romans destroyed.
At dawn on the already infamous 6th of June, the entire Roman 1st and 2nd Air Fleets, ten air squadrons in total, fell on French air bases all throughout southern France like a plague of locusts. Typhon bombers struck at airship hangers, fuel storage tanks, and air control towers, and dropped armor-piercing bombs on runways to crater them. Turbinum fighter-bombers hit parked aircraft with high explosive munitions and gasoline belly tanks to burn aircraft on the ground. Meanwhile, swarms of Nebula and Tempestas fighters danced through the suddenly-hostile air, strafing at anything moving, and attacking whatever aircraft the French had aloft.
The French air force, unlike its army, was vast, outnumbering the Roman one in the theatre, but the Romans had struck with full force and by total surprise. They could not destroy the entire french air forces, but they could hope to dent it enough to take full command of the air away from either side, and make the battle to come one of ground forces contesting with one another.
And on the ground, the Romans had another surprise in store.
The guns emplaced on the Rhone frontier opened fire, from Arles, from Avignon, and from places in between, the organic artillery of the First and Seventh legions supplimented by the Roman 2nd and 5th artillery cohorts. Pre-targetted on the French positions on the Western bank of the river, the guns pounded away, aiming at supply dumps, vehicle parks, artillery emplacements, and border defenses. Yet the defenses were too strong for the Romans to attempt to storm, and no effort was begun, no river craft sortied to try and breach the river. Damage and casualties from the Roman artillery fire would be substantial, even crippling, but so long as the French faced only the Army of Gaul, they were secure.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. Far to the north, in the city of Gap, in the Alpine mountains that formed the northern border of the Provence, an entire Roman Army materialized out of nowhere.
Gap had been a legionaire town for five hundred years, and until recently, the Fifth Legion, the 'Skylarks', had called it home. On maneuvers since the callup a week ago, the native Occitians and Provencals of the Skylark legion had driven up and down their section of the border, as though scrambling to prepare for re-deployment east. When, on the morning of the 6th, the Skylarks poured out of the mountains westward, it was a shock, but not a surprise.
That the infamous Tenth Legion was with them, was.
The Turcian Tenth, the most elite formation in the entire Roman Army, crashed into the French frontier near the Vercors pass as though it had materialized out of nothingness, summoned like Djinnis of the Arabian desert to fall upon the unsuspecting French with knives held in their teeth. With it rode the modern-day cavaliers of the 1st and 2nd motorized cohorts, and the 1st and 2nd armored cohorts beside them. As the Romans to the south blasted the French army with artillery, Turks and Provencal legionaires deluged down the passes of St. Croix and Die, and marched straight for the Rhone Valley and the city of Valence at double pace, the redoubtable Turks shattering every enemy formation thrown against them. On the bounce they moved, and any French force that tried to stand against them was lashed into submission by their organic artillery, cut apart by the Roman armor, and subsumed or bypassed as necessary by the elite legionaires, who made for Valence like an arrow shot from a bow.
And as the Turks descended from the Alps, so the Spanish attacked through the Pyrenees.
The Twelfth Legion, the famous 'Furia Aragonae', the Red Spaniards of Aragon, pitched into the French border with Roman Spain with a will, savaging the French border posts and driving on the passes of La Jonquera and Bourg-Madame, aiming at the border city of Perpignan. This at least the French had prepared for, and their army was ready to stop. What it was not prepared to stop however, was the Roman Marine Cohorts, the 1st, the 7th, the 9th. Supported by the Balearic Station of Roman ships, these struck at half a dozen points along the French coast, the elite raiders of the Roman Cohortes Marines aimed at the Submarines that the French had emplaced along the mediterranean coast. Nearly 200 boats, kept in a state of reserve, uncrewed and vulnerable, scattered from Montpellier to Argeles. The Marines landed, seizing the ports that the subs were tied to, capturing those boats they could, and scuttling those they could not with limpet mines and direct fire from the Roman cruisers in the Gulf of Lyon. The Roman Balearic Squadron was not large, but the French had no standing naval forces in the region, and the Roman ships sailed up and down the coast, blasting away with impunity.
And then at mid-day the greatest blow fell.
The entire Roman Thirteenth Legion invaded the city of Narbonne, not from the land, but from the sea, packed into transports and shadowed by the destroyers and cruisers of the Balearic squadron, as well as the returning aircraft of the 1st air fleet. The 'Valeria Victrix' Legion, another one of Rome's fearsome "Legio Eligere", the elite legions of unbeaten Roman heavy infantry. The Victrians knew nothing of defeat, and the scattered French forces, deployed to the frotniers to stop the First and Seventh and Twelfth from battering their way into France, had no capacity to stop them. Their orders were to seize Narbonne from the sea, and march inland, making for the old Cathari fortress-city of Carcassonne, while the Twelfth battered its way through the mountains to join them.
And so it was that three entire Roman Battlegroups assailed the French Army of the South from three sides, lavishly equipped with field guns, AAA, and artillery, as well as the famous Roman Artificitors, the combat engineers that had acompanied every Roman field formation since the dawn of time. Five to one they outnumbered their enemy in infantry, and ten to one in cannon, as the Aeromagister air-defense airships of the Legio Aeronauticae moved in to provide cover and tactical support for the Roman troops fighting in southern France, and the fighters of the 1st and 2nd air fleets redeployed to repell any French air counteroffensive. And all across southern France, the thunder of war blasted away the last vestiges of the old peace.
*---------------------------------------------------*
In the South of Hungary, in the lands called Romania and Serbia, the Roman Ninth and Fifteenth Legions crossed the border before dawn.
No fire was met from the Hungarian border posts, for they had all pulled back, perhaps to avoid peacemeal annihilation, or perhaps for other reasons. For an hour the Romans advanced into Hungarian territory, until finally, in the Kosavar town of Kasanik, the leading elements of the Elite Ninth 'Adiutrix' Legion encountered the first elements of the Hungarian military...
... and the locomotives they had prepared for them.
With much shouting and cursing in Latin, Greek, Hungarian, and local Epiriot dialects, the Cohorts of the Ninth Legion boarded rail cars in the Hungarian rail gauge. They settled themselves, heavy equipment and all, onto Hungarian railroads, while their centurions patrolled around them to ensure that they did not help themselves to any Hungarian liquor stocks located nearby. After several hours of manhandling and heavy labor (for Kasanik was ill-provided with cranes or loading derricks), the first trainload of the Ninth Legion began to move off, with Hungarian engineers manning the locomotives, Hungarian guides billetted to the troops on their route north and west, and Hungarian officers ensconced in the command cars communicating the request for orders of the Roman Legates and Tribunes to Budapest for relay to Mediolanum in Hungarian cyphers. Hundreds of miles to the East, the Fifteenth Legion was doing the same exact thing.
By the time the day dawned, 85,000 Roman soldiers were winding their way North and West towards Slovenia, and the marshalling point for the reserve formations that would be fed into the fighting as needed. Two entire legion had invaded Hungary, in a sense, but not one shot was fired by either, nor by their putative adversaries, as the Hungarian and Roman officers settled down for the long trip northwards, to War.
*---------------------------------------------------*
As dawn broke in Budapest, called Budapestinum in Latin, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii read over the note that he had received earlier that night once more from the balcony of the Royal Palace.
'All units in position for Warplan Rubicon,' it read. 'Hungarian liason forces in position and ready for combined operations. Full Reserve Mobilization announcements prepared for distribution tomorrow morning. Initiating full hostilities on Consular command against Franco-German forces.'
The clock on the wall chimed 6 o'clock as he folded the note and slid it back into his pocket. At this very moment, the Roman ambassadors in Hamburg and Paris were be delivering Declarations of War to the respective governments of France and Germany, while the mastheads of the Observator and the announcers on radio stations throughout the Empire were getting ready to proclaim to the world the existance of the newly-inaugurated Roman-Hungarian Alliance, the details of which had occupied so much of his time over the past few days. The documents had been signed back in Aprilius, but so much had gone into choreographing everything properly for this announcement. No matter how many Quaestors he assigned to see the process through, it was never enough. He took a mental note to remember to thank the Hungarian officials for their unstinting efforts in seeding the waters with stories of impending hostilities between the two Empires of Southern Europe. The diplomatic camoflage had paid enormous dividends.
As the dawn broke serenely over the city, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii looked down at the Danubius River that rolled through the heart of Budapest, and permitted himself a moment to relax. Only a moment though, for the coming weeks would be bloody ones, as Empires fought for their very lives.
Paterturcii turned to his side and saw a young page standing there, watching the Consul with wide eyes. Did the child understand the importance of this day? Did he know that for the rest of his life, he would be asked where he had been when the combined forces of Rome and Hungary rose up to destroy the Axis of Franco-germanic agression forever?
He stood up from the balcony, and turned to the page, his hand held inside his coat as he drew out a pocketwatch and consulted the time, seven minutes past six, before returning it to his pocket, and smiling.
"The die is cast," he said quietly, and then, with infinite care, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, Consul Ordinarius, the First Man in Rome, walked into the palace and towards the chambers where he would hold his final meetings with the Hungarian command staff prior to returning to Rome.
*---------------------------------------------------*
So the Age of Mediation ended.
So the Age of War began.
Amen.
The message came for Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii in the Royal Palace at Budapest.
Midnight in Rome was 1 o'clock in Budapest, not that anyone was prepared to sleep at this hour, least of all the Junior Consul Ordinarius. The events of this week had been too great, too important for the security of Rome, to keep any kind of rational sleep schedule. Standing now in the mirrored hall of the wondrously opulent palace, and feeling every one of his 51 years, the man they called Paterturcii took a moment to reflect.
The news from Ivanus Bonomius Mediator's mission to Hamburg had hit Rome with the force of a Thunderbolt from Jupiter, and sent seismic shockwaves through every level of Roman society. There was disbelief, there was rage, there was fear and panic. The Romans, never a terribly church-going people, had flocked to cathedrals, mosques, or temples to pray for their families, homes, Empire. The Pope, still ministering in Rome, had found himself thronged not by Catholics (of which Italy was still well supplied), but by everyone from proletarii to senators, so many thronged supplicants asking for his intercession that the Praetor Urbanus had deputed a hundred men from the Praetorian Guard to escort the Pontiff throughout the land.
Elsewhere there was chaos. Crowds of angry Romans stoned the German Embassy in Rome and the Consulates in Constantinople, Carthage, and Jerusalem, hurling ordure and garbage over the walls. The German Colony in the Palestinian city of Haifa was attacked by mob of rioters, kept at bay with difficulty by the local Auxilia militia. Panicked reports of German and Hungarian aircraft flying over Greece and the Adriatic Sea flooded in at every hour. In Gallia Transalpina, angry men stood in the forums of Avennio and Massalia and denounced the government in flowery Latin rhetoric, damning Ivanus Bonomius Mediator by name as a coward who was preparing to abandon them to the dominion of Paris. In Turcia it was the same, and Macedonia, and Epirus, as the non-Italian citizens of the Roman Empire awoke one day to find themselves threatened with disenfranchisement, abandonment, subjugation to one of a half dozen powers, each of them alien in a way Rome had ceased to be many centuries ago.
And behind this entire wave of panic and fear, there lay the indellible words of the Roman Senior Consul. "All efforts to achieve peace with honor having failed, the German-led alliance of nations has demanded the surrender of the following territories..."
In Budapest, Paterturcii had spent the last four days in round-the-clock negotiations, trying with all his oratorical and diplomatic might to persuade the Hungarians, the strongest army and air force in Europe to remain aloof from the impending crisis. Ever since word had arrived of Bonomius Mediator's failure, this had been his sole purpose, and across the Empire, tens of millions of citizens, some of whom had cursed Paterturcii's very name the week before, prayed to Gods without count that he might succeed. Yet nothing but defeat had greeted all his efforts. The Hungarians saw only the possibilities of aggrandizement, and the glory of Greece. They would not remain aloof. They would make demands on Rome, and should they not be accepted, they would take their demands by force. Paterturcii had failed.
Such was the news in the papers, at least.
And so it was that tonight, on the morning of the sixth day of the month called Junius, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii stood in the Great Hall of the Hungarian Royal Palace, and was silent. No speeches, no meetings, no negotiation sessions would he attend this night. In his hand he held the morning edition of the Observator Romanum, the leading daily newspaper of the City of Rome. In it was printed the news that Ivanus Bonomius Mediator had abruptly resigned his post as Senior Consul, and a digest of his oration to the citizens thereof. In that oration he had spoken of resolution in defeat, of stoicism, of soldiering on despite the misfortunes and inequities of fate, yet all had seen that his heart was not in it. His booming voice stilled, his lively eyes dead, he spoke like a man drugged, his hair white as it had never been, his posture stooped, and every man knew why. A broken, defeated man, his dreams of peace and stability dashed, he would retire, he said, to Mantuae, his home town, and there compose his memoires. None needed to be reminded that Mantuae was within the boundaries of the Northern Italian lands that the Germans would no doubt soon be annexing, nor did the paper refrain from pronouncing that the memoires the ex-consul was preparing to write would be the epitaph of the Glory that had been Rome. Though many had blamed him for the surrender being prepared, the crowds could not find it within themselves to condemn an old man broken so. The rheumatic tears in his eyes had been their own. Garlanded with flowers, ten thousand men and women had carried Ivanus Bonomius Mediator on their shoulders to the Domus Publica that was his residence, and stood vigil now outside it with candles and placards of good will. One had been photographed and splashed on the front page of the Observator.
"Dearest Mediator," it said, "we understand."
Thus was a good man destroyed. Thus died an age.
But troubling as these thoughts were to Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, now the sole Consul that Rome possessed, at this moment he was not engaged in trying to rectify them. No meetings, no debates, no negotiation sessions were scheduled for this morning. This morning was left alone, a void in the schedules of public men whose time was more precious than gold. This morning was an aberration, as though all the mechanisms of the world had ceased to function, and knew not what to do with themselves, and it remained for men of will to make of the new day what they would.
Or not of will, of Discrimen.
Such a perfectly Roman word, that. Discrimen was a term that existed in no other language, though it had inspired many. It meant a moment, a special, specific moment, of incalculable importance. A moment in which a decision had to be made, one of such profound importance and unimaginable consequence, that the reverberations of that decision would echo through history into perpetuity. A moment of Discrimen was the ultimate test of a Roman, a moment when everything, all that a man was or ever would be, when the fate of peoples and nations and Empires hung in the balance. A moment when the odds were unfathomable, the consequences tremendous and terrible, when men felt the Gods themselves watching them, waiting to see what they would do.
A messenger, liveried in the Hungarian Page service, approached with a bow, and handed Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii a note. He scanned its contents briefly, took a long, deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned to the young man.
"Bring me the red telephone," said Paterturcii.
Two thousand years before, a man had stood on a riverbank in northern Italy, watching the waters flow before him. A minor stream, that river, and yet one of unfathomable importance. That man, Gaius Julius Caesar, had faced Discrimen that morning, an Empire held in the balance of his decision, and the choice he had made had changed the world. Nor was he the only one. Cola di Rienzus Tribunus Maximus had faced Discrimen when he had taken it upon himself to defy the Pope, and declare the independence of Rome, beginning a process of renewal that outlasted himself by centuries. Napoleon Buonapartus Magnus Restutitor had faced Discrimen that day in the forum when he had mounted the Rostra and called on the citizens to overthrow the Kings.
He picked up the telephone.
Five hundred miles away, in Mediolanum, Marcus Sarpaedius lifted the other end.
"Imperator," said Rome's only Consul.
"Mustaphus Cemal," came the voice of Marcus Sarpaedius, "our fleet has entered the Straits of Gibraltar en-route to the Antilles. The Army of the Balkans is prepared to begin Operation Perseus. Everything is at maximum readiness."
Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii was not a religious man. Neither his native Islam, nor the Greek Orthodox faith of many of his fellow Turcians had ever had the slightest appeal to him. Yet now, standing here, he felt as though the weight of Heaven was bearing down on him.
"What are your commands, Consul Ordinarius?"
Paterturcii half-turned, the receiver of the telephone still held to his ear. To his right, approached Gabor Ilona, the Hungarian Foreign minister whose wrathful diatribes against Roman perfidity the papers had reported dutifully these past few days. She stood now aside, watching the Senior Consul carefully.
"Tell me, Marcus Sarpaedius," said Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, "do you still think that I am a Turcian hayseed, come to destroy Rome?"
Several seconds of silence on the other end of the line followed, and when the young Imperator responded, his voice was shaken.
"Mustaphus Cemal," he said with utmost care, "the Senior Consul is dying. The provinces believe that they are about to be abandoned to alien powers. The people are in terror, and the ship of state is without a helmsman." The head of the Consularum Militarius cleared his throat. "If you do not save the Empire, then we will fall into a thousand years of darkness. By all the Gods of Rome, by my own forefathers, and by the power vested in me by the Senate and People of Rome, I ask for your commands. You are the First Man in Rome."
Paterturcii, looking into the eyes of the Hungarian foreign minister, felt, in that moment, a sensation of utter calm flow over him like a blanket, and knew, with a certainty that he had never before known, that this was his moment of Discrimen.
"Cross the Rubicon," said Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, and then he hung up the phone.
*------------------------------------------------------------------*
In the halls of the military headquarters of the Roman Empire, the bees began to stir.
First some, then many electrical signals, transmitted by telegraph wires that crossed three continents, reached out from the city of Mediolanum, and touched every corner of the Roman World. Over seas and mountains they stretched, bridging rivers and bringing the orders of Paterturcii and the Imperator Romanum, Marcus Sarpaedius, to the men and officers whose charge it was to see these orders carried out. The orders stretched to Lleida in Aragon, to Gibraltar in Spain, to Aosta in the north and Oran in the south. The orders went to Army headquarters in Massalia, in Venice, in Serdica, in Ancyra, stretched across cables running over the Atlantic Ocean clear to distant Havanna and Civitas Consularum. From there they radiated in every direction, to legionary camps, airfields, relay stations on the storm-beaten coast of the Mare Nostrum. And as these commands radiated out, like the nervous signals of a human body, the muscles and ligaments that they controlled began to move.
In the Straits of Gibraltar, the fleet began to turn.
The Fourth Legion had been redeployed from Antillia to Gibraltar pending re-organization, and the Fourteenth Legion had been ordered west to take their place. Much angry rhetoric had been directed Rome's way as a result, by Mexican and American diplomats who were not happy to see battlefleets and armies invading territory they considered their own backyard. Many had speculated what the Romans could possibly be thinking, re-enforcing the region in such numbers, angering the Americans and Mexicans, and why they would send so much of their forces so far afield.
The answer was simple. The Romans had never intended to send an army and fleet to Cuba. All they had wanted was an excuse to concentrate 85% of the Roman navy in the Straits of Gibraltar, in close escort of two full legions of troops, all of whom were scheduled to transit through the straits at the same time.
In the silent darkness of the pre-radar night, the combined Roman fleet divided in three. The submarines moved west, fanning out to form a cordon, and watch for any hostile ships that might seek to approach and molest the Roman flotilla. The bulk of the surface forces sailed west and then south, down the coast towards the city of Casablanca. The remainder remained in the straits themselves, turning prows south towards the Moroccan shore before presenting their broadsides to the French-held cities of Ceuta and Tangiers.
As the day dawned, two squadrons of aircraft from the airbases at Gibraltar, coupled with the entire air groups of five aircraft carriers descended on Casablanca and Tangiers like a swarm of angry wasps, targeting airfields and coastal defenses with impunity, and behind them thundered the guns of the largest warships in the Mediterranean. Juggernauts with names that resonated through the ages, Poseidon, Triton, Nemesis, Erinyes, Nike, the battlewagons blasted everything in sight, be they ships docked in the harbor or troops emplaced on the ground. With them fired smaller ships, of no less glorious lineage, Athens, Syracuse, Orpheus, Draco, Marcus Tullius Cicero, the list rolled on, names on a dull page of history roaring back to life with fire and vengeance for the foes of Rome. The old battlecruiser Zeus, flanked by destroyers and shrouded in smoke from her old coal-fed burners, held herself back as the fleet battleships did their work, waiting for the signal to move.
For this was no mere raid, a first strike designed to deny ports and airbases to the enemy. Behind the iron shield of the fleet waited squat, ugly transports, and at a signal, these moved in.
Zeus charged ahead, moving to ten thousand yards offshore, point blank range for a battleship, and added her fire to the tumultous din, as the ships holding the Roman 5th and 6th Marine cohorts stormed ashore under the cover of hundreds of aircraft and the weight of the entire Roman battle line. Behind them came tens of thousands of legionaires of the Fourth and Fourteenth Legions, the Equites and Raptors, who surged to support the marines with every weapon they could bring to bear. Vexillators bearing the standards of the legions, silver eagles held high in the smoke-shrouded morning air, urged their soldiers on, as they surged into the cities of Casblanca, Tangiers, and Ceuta, overwhelming their opposition by weight of local firepower.
By the end of the day, 40,000 Roman soldiers were ashore in Casablanca, and 40,000 more had landed in Tangiers and Ceuta, seizing the southern end of the Straits of Gibraltar as well as the largest port in Morocco. The stunned defenders of the ironically-named French Army of Gibraltar, forced to spread across an entire country and defend the Algerian border from the Roman frontier garrisons, could not possibly concentrate against the landings in time to prevent them, and the Roman navy now stood in full battle regalia at the entrance to the Mediterranean, ready for whatever counteroffensive might tempt it.
The French had demanded that the Romans yield Gibraltar to them. They had just received their answer.
*---------------------------------------------------*
At 0400 hours, local time, the entire Roman border with Germany caught fire.
The German Army of Switzerland was a powerful formation, deployed to prevent a Roman invasion of the region. Ensconced behind mighty border defenses, it challenged the Romans to displace it, as they had tried to do in the fifteenth century, to their ignominy and defeat. One weakness alone it possessed, for along the border itself, manning the defenses that guarded Switzerland from the Legions, the Germans had deployed only a single division of border guards, keeping the rest of their force back in Switzerland proper.
The Romans had not done this.
All at once, a deluge of fire the likes of which no living man had ever seen before descended on the unsuspecting heads of the German frontier garrison as though Hell itself had opened up and vomited forth fire and death. Eleven cohorts of Artillery, three of them wielding gargantuan "Etna" railway guns and "Hecatonshire" Siege Mortars drenched the German positions in fire pre-registered to fall on their concrete fortifications and blockhouses like the thunderbolts of Jupiter Optimus Maximus himself. The very mountains shook with the fury of the Roman bombardment, as an avalanche of explosive destruction poured into the hapless German defenders. From above, the four squadrons of the Roman 3rd Air Fleet descended to add their bombs to the tumult, or to sever the road connections that linked the border forts together. And as this cataclysm unfolded, beneath smoke-shrouded skies, the Legions marched.
The Roman Eighth Legion hit first, the Dead Legion, the 'Mortis', who marched behind Vexilliae of Sable, the very same legion the Germans had annihilated to a man at the Battle of Treculum in the fifteenth century, who had never forgotten their defeat, and who stormed across the border like death commandoes. In their wake followed the Second Legion, the 'Triumphators', whose standards bore witness to the longest series of unbroken triumphs in Roman history. The German border guards were picked men, elite troops trained to defend their Reich and homes to the death, and they fought back ferociously against the Roman assault, but the Roman assault wave was equally well-trained and ferocious, and the Germans were outnumbered seven to one by it, their support simply erased under the power of the Roman artillery, whose shellweight was nine times their own. Ahead the Romans surged, intending to capture the German border fortifications and destroy their border guard division before the Army of Switzerland could re-enforce it.
But immense as this battle must have seemed to those fighting it, it was a mere skirmish compared to what was happening in Gaul.
The French Army of the South had been deployed for a single purpose, to prevent the Roman armies from invading Southern France. And so long as they faced only the Roman Army of Gaul, the First and Seventh legions emplaced along the Rhondanus River, with reserves in Massalia, they had a credible chance of doing this. Four divisions strong, with seven tank brigades and a handful of elite infantry regiments, they were outnumbered by the Roman Gallic army, but not to a degree that would make defense impossible, for they had fortifications and the river itself to protect them, as well as the French Air Force...
... which was the first thing the Romans destroyed.
At dawn on the already infamous 6th of June, the entire Roman 1st and 2nd Air Fleets, ten air squadrons in total, fell on French air bases all throughout southern France like a plague of locusts. Typhon bombers struck at airship hangers, fuel storage tanks, and air control towers, and dropped armor-piercing bombs on runways to crater them. Turbinum fighter-bombers hit parked aircraft with high explosive munitions and gasoline belly tanks to burn aircraft on the ground. Meanwhile, swarms of Nebula and Tempestas fighters danced through the suddenly-hostile air, strafing at anything moving, and attacking whatever aircraft the French had aloft.
The French air force, unlike its army, was vast, outnumbering the Roman one in the theatre, but the Romans had struck with full force and by total surprise. They could not destroy the entire french air forces, but they could hope to dent it enough to take full command of the air away from either side, and make the battle to come one of ground forces contesting with one another.
And on the ground, the Romans had another surprise in store.
The guns emplaced on the Rhone frontier opened fire, from Arles, from Avignon, and from places in between, the organic artillery of the First and Seventh legions supplimented by the Roman 2nd and 5th artillery cohorts. Pre-targetted on the French positions on the Western bank of the river, the guns pounded away, aiming at supply dumps, vehicle parks, artillery emplacements, and border defenses. Yet the defenses were too strong for the Romans to attempt to storm, and no effort was begun, no river craft sortied to try and breach the river. Damage and casualties from the Roman artillery fire would be substantial, even crippling, but so long as the French faced only the Army of Gaul, they were secure.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. Far to the north, in the city of Gap, in the Alpine mountains that formed the northern border of the Provence, an entire Roman Army materialized out of nowhere.
Gap had been a legionaire town for five hundred years, and until recently, the Fifth Legion, the 'Skylarks', had called it home. On maneuvers since the callup a week ago, the native Occitians and Provencals of the Skylark legion had driven up and down their section of the border, as though scrambling to prepare for re-deployment east. When, on the morning of the 6th, the Skylarks poured out of the mountains westward, it was a shock, but not a surprise.
That the infamous Tenth Legion was with them, was.
The Turcian Tenth, the most elite formation in the entire Roman Army, crashed into the French frontier near the Vercors pass as though it had materialized out of nothingness, summoned like Djinnis of the Arabian desert to fall upon the unsuspecting French with knives held in their teeth. With it rode the modern-day cavaliers of the 1st and 2nd motorized cohorts, and the 1st and 2nd armored cohorts beside them. As the Romans to the south blasted the French army with artillery, Turks and Provencal legionaires deluged down the passes of St. Croix and Die, and marched straight for the Rhone Valley and the city of Valence at double pace, the redoubtable Turks shattering every enemy formation thrown against them. On the bounce they moved, and any French force that tried to stand against them was lashed into submission by their organic artillery, cut apart by the Roman armor, and subsumed or bypassed as necessary by the elite legionaires, who made for Valence like an arrow shot from a bow.
And as the Turks descended from the Alps, so the Spanish attacked through the Pyrenees.
The Twelfth Legion, the famous 'Furia Aragonae', the Red Spaniards of Aragon, pitched into the French border with Roman Spain with a will, savaging the French border posts and driving on the passes of La Jonquera and Bourg-Madame, aiming at the border city of Perpignan. This at least the French had prepared for, and their army was ready to stop. What it was not prepared to stop however, was the Roman Marine Cohorts, the 1st, the 7th, the 9th. Supported by the Balearic Station of Roman ships, these struck at half a dozen points along the French coast, the elite raiders of the Roman Cohortes Marines aimed at the Submarines that the French had emplaced along the mediterranean coast. Nearly 200 boats, kept in a state of reserve, uncrewed and vulnerable, scattered from Montpellier to Argeles. The Marines landed, seizing the ports that the subs were tied to, capturing those boats they could, and scuttling those they could not with limpet mines and direct fire from the Roman cruisers in the Gulf of Lyon. The Roman Balearic Squadron was not large, but the French had no standing naval forces in the region, and the Roman ships sailed up and down the coast, blasting away with impunity.
And then at mid-day the greatest blow fell.
The entire Roman Thirteenth Legion invaded the city of Narbonne, not from the land, but from the sea, packed into transports and shadowed by the destroyers and cruisers of the Balearic squadron, as well as the returning aircraft of the 1st air fleet. The 'Valeria Victrix' Legion, another one of Rome's fearsome "Legio Eligere", the elite legions of unbeaten Roman heavy infantry. The Victrians knew nothing of defeat, and the scattered French forces, deployed to the frotniers to stop the First and Seventh and Twelfth from battering their way into France, had no capacity to stop them. Their orders were to seize Narbonne from the sea, and march inland, making for the old Cathari fortress-city of Carcassonne, while the Twelfth battered its way through the mountains to join them.
And so it was that three entire Roman Battlegroups assailed the French Army of the South from three sides, lavishly equipped with field guns, AAA, and artillery, as well as the famous Roman Artificitors, the combat engineers that had acompanied every Roman field formation since the dawn of time. Five to one they outnumbered their enemy in infantry, and ten to one in cannon, as the Aeromagister air-defense airships of the Legio Aeronauticae moved in to provide cover and tactical support for the Roman troops fighting in southern France, and the fighters of the 1st and 2nd air fleets redeployed to repell any French air counteroffensive. And all across southern France, the thunder of war blasted away the last vestiges of the old peace.
*---------------------------------------------------*
In the South of Hungary, in the lands called Romania and Serbia, the Roman Ninth and Fifteenth Legions crossed the border before dawn.
No fire was met from the Hungarian border posts, for they had all pulled back, perhaps to avoid peacemeal annihilation, or perhaps for other reasons. For an hour the Romans advanced into Hungarian territory, until finally, in the Kosavar town of Kasanik, the leading elements of the Elite Ninth 'Adiutrix' Legion encountered the first elements of the Hungarian military...
... and the locomotives they had prepared for them.
With much shouting and cursing in Latin, Greek, Hungarian, and local Epiriot dialects, the Cohorts of the Ninth Legion boarded rail cars in the Hungarian rail gauge. They settled themselves, heavy equipment and all, onto Hungarian railroads, while their centurions patrolled around them to ensure that they did not help themselves to any Hungarian liquor stocks located nearby. After several hours of manhandling and heavy labor (for Kasanik was ill-provided with cranes or loading derricks), the first trainload of the Ninth Legion began to move off, with Hungarian engineers manning the locomotives, Hungarian guides billetted to the troops on their route north and west, and Hungarian officers ensconced in the command cars communicating the request for orders of the Roman Legates and Tribunes to Budapest for relay to Mediolanum in Hungarian cyphers. Hundreds of miles to the East, the Fifteenth Legion was doing the same exact thing.
By the time the day dawned, 85,000 Roman soldiers were winding their way North and West towards Slovenia, and the marshalling point for the reserve formations that would be fed into the fighting as needed. Two entire legion had invaded Hungary, in a sense, but not one shot was fired by either, nor by their putative adversaries, as the Hungarian and Roman officers settled down for the long trip northwards, to War.
*---------------------------------------------------*
As dawn broke in Budapest, called Budapestinum in Latin, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii read over the note that he had received earlier that night once more from the balcony of the Royal Palace.
'All units in position for Warplan Rubicon,' it read. 'Hungarian liason forces in position and ready for combined operations. Full Reserve Mobilization announcements prepared for distribution tomorrow morning. Initiating full hostilities on Consular command against Franco-German forces.'
The clock on the wall chimed 6 o'clock as he folded the note and slid it back into his pocket. At this very moment, the Roman ambassadors in Hamburg and Paris were be delivering Declarations of War to the respective governments of France and Germany, while the mastheads of the Observator and the announcers on radio stations throughout the Empire were getting ready to proclaim to the world the existance of the newly-inaugurated Roman-Hungarian Alliance, the details of which had occupied so much of his time over the past few days. The documents had been signed back in Aprilius, but so much had gone into choreographing everything properly for this announcement. No matter how many Quaestors he assigned to see the process through, it was never enough. He took a mental note to remember to thank the Hungarian officials for their unstinting efforts in seeding the waters with stories of impending hostilities between the two Empires of Southern Europe. The diplomatic camoflage had paid enormous dividends.
As the dawn broke serenely over the city, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii looked down at the Danubius River that rolled through the heart of Budapest, and permitted himself a moment to relax. Only a moment though, for the coming weeks would be bloody ones, as Empires fought for their very lives.
Paterturcii turned to his side and saw a young page standing there, watching the Consul with wide eyes. Did the child understand the importance of this day? Did he know that for the rest of his life, he would be asked where he had been when the combined forces of Rome and Hungary rose up to destroy the Axis of Franco-germanic agression forever?
He stood up from the balcony, and turned to the page, his hand held inside his coat as he drew out a pocketwatch and consulted the time, seven minutes past six, before returning it to his pocket, and smiling.
"The die is cast," he said quietly, and then, with infinite care, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, Consul Ordinarius, the First Man in Rome, walked into the palace and towards the chambers where he would hold his final meetings with the Hungarian command staff prior to returning to Rome.
*---------------------------------------------------*
So the Age of Mediation ended.
So the Age of War began.
Amen.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
-
Cynical Cat
- Arch-Magician
- Posts: 11930
- Joined: Thu Jun 09, 2005 8:53 pm
- 19
- Location: Ice Sarcophagus outside a ruined Jedi Temple
- Contact:
#99
June 5th, 1930
"All senior field grade officers have now been briefed regarding Case Plan Scythe," said Ernst Becker. "We await only the order to commence."
"And the Germans have settled in?" said Constantinescu.
"Yes Prime Minister. I have some of our best men looking after them, and we have the best men in the world."
"Then I guess we are awaiting on your word, your majesty," said Becker.
Gabor Ilona walked into the room, passed a cluster of men in ribbon bedecked uniforms. "It's happening."
Gasps of surprise filled the room. "So be it," said Bela. "A glorious and honourable peace," said Bela V. It was clear the king was not happy.
"So it would appear," said Gabor Ilona. The ambitious foreign minister who had been the point of contact with the German government, lit a cigarette and smiled.
"A sad day," said Bela V. "Inevitable, although I wish things did not have to be this way."
"Your majesty?" asked Becker.
"Carthage delenda est," said King Hunyadi Bela V.
"As you say, majesty," said Becker.
"Ilona," said Constantinescu.
"Yes Prime Minister?"
"Inform the Poles of the exact consequences of rolling any armour in the direction of Germany."
"With pleasure."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Female laughter accompanied the approach of Hungarian soldiers to the German barracks. "My Deutch comrades," said Kaufmann. The Hungarian soldier was swaying slightly and had a busty blond clinging to his left arm. The other held a bottle of peppermint schnapps. "News from the outside world is good. The Romans caved. So now we don't have to die."
"That's good news colonel," said Hauptmann Karl Braun. "Although you seem to be doing very well for yourself."
The Hungarian stepped inside and with him came several more officers and twice that number of revealingly dressed women. Kaufmann passed the schnapps bottle to Braun. "You misjudge me," said the Hungarian. "I brought plenty of drink for everyone and the best whores this side of Bucharest."
"Really."
"Well the might have better ones in Paris, but I'll have to conduct a study first," said Kaufmann laughing. "Extensive trials will be required. Now start pouring the booze so we can have a toast."
June 6th, 1930
Kaufmann sat across the table from the captain, who was barely keeping his head off the table. The German had done far more of the drinking. Kaufmann and his officers had brought plenty of booze and shared it freely. Walking was a trial for many of the Germans still conscious.
Boots thumped on the barrack's wooden floor. "Sir," said Sergeant Boda. There were a half dozen soldiers with Boda, stone cold sober enlisted men. They all carried submachine guns. "Might I have a word with you."
"Of course sergeant. Excuse me hauptman." The young German had collapsed face first on the table. The colonel followed his men out of the barracks into the warm summer night. He checked his watch. It was almost one in the morning.
"Status?" Kaufmann asked softly. He had drunk a lot less alcohol than it appeared.
"All planes secured, all hangers guarded. Radios are under our control, men around every barracks. Ground crew accounted for."
"Then take them all prisoner. Don't fuck around sergeant. You have submachine guns and grenades if someone becomes a problem."
"Yes sir. Too bad. They were a nice bunch of guys."
"They're the lucky ones sergeant. They're getting drunk, laid, and then going to a nice prisoner of war camp. We're going to hit the rest of them like the fist of God himself. Now do your duty."
"Yes sir."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Zeppelins cruised silent and almost invisible in the early morning darkness. The Hungarian troops in their bellies were the best of the best. In the coming years the radar technology pioneered by Tesla and being developed in several countries might allow their detection, but at the moment they were too high up and shielded by darkness.
From here the lights of the great cities below them formed pools and rivers, perfect navigational references for the invading dirgables.
Above western Austria the Zeppelins descended and the soldiers began pushing each other out into the dark. Parachutes deployed as five crack regiments slid through the night. Airdrop restricted what support weapons they could bring with them, but they were otherwise well equipped.
On the ground their mission was simple. Cause havoc in the rear lines, kill German soldiers and take their equipment, cut transportation links Austria and the rest of the Germany. That was a lot to do and they had one more. Link up with the Hungarian troops striking into Austria.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was dark when Hungarian aviators in the Sudetenland and Hungary climbed into their cockpits. Their ground crews prepped their planes and then sent them into the air. Wing after wing of Hungarian aircraft took to the air. The largest airforce in the world was taking wing. Dawn broke in front of them as the leading edge passed over the frontier and into German territory.
Beneath the Hungarian planes were lines of Hungarians machines and soldiers streaming up the Danube Valley, a spearhead striking into Austria. They would rapidly engage the German forces with overwhelming air and artillery support while their mobile elements flanked and encircled them. Heavy armour and crack troops would attach the weak points, punching through the German lines and cutting them into kill pockets while the Hungarians overran the rear lines. The Third Hungarian Army was breaking south while the First and Second Army engaged from the northern part of the Danube Valley.
The aviators' missions were simple. The Czech based planes would destroy the German air bases in Saxony, destroying as many as possible on the ground while they enjoyed the element of surprise. The planes based in Hungary struck at Switzerland and Austria. Their primary targets were the German planes and airbases and their secondary targets were the German forces stationed in Austria. Hell would rain from the sky.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The entire Hungarian fleet sailed into the Adriatic, heading into the Mediterreanean at full speed. There they would head to join the Roman Fleet at Gibraltar. This was the greatest naval deployment in the history of the country. True, the Romans would be in overall command of the naval operation, but for once they would be a vital asset in the defence of their country. Glory and honour would be theirs and perhaps death as well. The mood of the sailors was good, but there was apprehension as well.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the Sudetenland super heavy artillery was moved into position, aimed at the German bunkers and defences that held the German parts of the mountains. Artillery pieces, field guns, and fortress weapons would be added to the hellish barrage of the super heavies.
Light broke over the mountains. The Hungarians wouldn't be sending in men yet. First the guns would do their work and then engineers and crack troops would evaluate their work and strike to finish the job.
Thunder shattered the silence and the hammers of a hundred mad giants struck the earth. Earth and smoke were blasted into the sky as men rent the earth with their machines, intent on turning the living into the dead and the land into ruin.
"All senior field grade officers have now been briefed regarding Case Plan Scythe," said Ernst Becker. "We await only the order to commence."
"And the Germans have settled in?" said Constantinescu.
"Yes Prime Minister. I have some of our best men looking after them, and we have the best men in the world."
"Then I guess we are awaiting on your word, your majesty," said Becker.
Gabor Ilona walked into the room, passed a cluster of men in ribbon bedecked uniforms. "It's happening."
Gasps of surprise filled the room. "So be it," said Bela. "A glorious and honourable peace," said Bela V. It was clear the king was not happy.
"So it would appear," said Gabor Ilona. The ambitious foreign minister who had been the point of contact with the German government, lit a cigarette and smiled.
"A sad day," said Bela V. "Inevitable, although I wish things did not have to be this way."
"Your majesty?" asked Becker.
"Carthage delenda est," said King Hunyadi Bela V.
"As you say, majesty," said Becker.
"Ilona," said Constantinescu.
"Yes Prime Minister?"
"Inform the Poles of the exact consequences of rolling any armour in the direction of Germany."
"With pleasure."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Female laughter accompanied the approach of Hungarian soldiers to the German barracks. "My Deutch comrades," said Kaufmann. The Hungarian soldier was swaying slightly and had a busty blond clinging to his left arm. The other held a bottle of peppermint schnapps. "News from the outside world is good. The Romans caved. So now we don't have to die."
"That's good news colonel," said Hauptmann Karl Braun. "Although you seem to be doing very well for yourself."
The Hungarian stepped inside and with him came several more officers and twice that number of revealingly dressed women. Kaufmann passed the schnapps bottle to Braun. "You misjudge me," said the Hungarian. "I brought plenty of drink for everyone and the best whores this side of Bucharest."
"Really."
"Well the might have better ones in Paris, but I'll have to conduct a study first," said Kaufmann laughing. "Extensive trials will be required. Now start pouring the booze so we can have a toast."
June 6th, 1930
Kaufmann sat across the table from the captain, who was barely keeping his head off the table. The German had done far more of the drinking. Kaufmann and his officers had brought plenty of booze and shared it freely. Walking was a trial for many of the Germans still conscious.
Boots thumped on the barrack's wooden floor. "Sir," said Sergeant Boda. There were a half dozen soldiers with Boda, stone cold sober enlisted men. They all carried submachine guns. "Might I have a word with you."
"Of course sergeant. Excuse me hauptman." The young German had collapsed face first on the table. The colonel followed his men out of the barracks into the warm summer night. He checked his watch. It was almost one in the morning.
"Status?" Kaufmann asked softly. He had drunk a lot less alcohol than it appeared.
"All planes secured, all hangers guarded. Radios are under our control, men around every barracks. Ground crew accounted for."
"Then take them all prisoner. Don't fuck around sergeant. You have submachine guns and grenades if someone becomes a problem."
"Yes sir. Too bad. They were a nice bunch of guys."
"They're the lucky ones sergeant. They're getting drunk, laid, and then going to a nice prisoner of war camp. We're going to hit the rest of them like the fist of God himself. Now do your duty."
"Yes sir."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Zeppelins cruised silent and almost invisible in the early morning darkness. The Hungarian troops in their bellies were the best of the best. In the coming years the radar technology pioneered by Tesla and being developed in several countries might allow their detection, but at the moment they were too high up and shielded by darkness.
From here the lights of the great cities below them formed pools and rivers, perfect navigational references for the invading dirgables.
Above western Austria the Zeppelins descended and the soldiers began pushing each other out into the dark. Parachutes deployed as five crack regiments slid through the night. Airdrop restricted what support weapons they could bring with them, but they were otherwise well equipped.
On the ground their mission was simple. Cause havoc in the rear lines, kill German soldiers and take their equipment, cut transportation links Austria and the rest of the Germany. That was a lot to do and they had one more. Link up with the Hungarian troops striking into Austria.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was dark when Hungarian aviators in the Sudetenland and Hungary climbed into their cockpits. Their ground crews prepped their planes and then sent them into the air. Wing after wing of Hungarian aircraft took to the air. The largest airforce in the world was taking wing. Dawn broke in front of them as the leading edge passed over the frontier and into German territory.
Beneath the Hungarian planes were lines of Hungarians machines and soldiers streaming up the Danube Valley, a spearhead striking into Austria. They would rapidly engage the German forces with overwhelming air and artillery support while their mobile elements flanked and encircled them. Heavy armour and crack troops would attach the weak points, punching through the German lines and cutting them into kill pockets while the Hungarians overran the rear lines. The Third Hungarian Army was breaking south while the First and Second Army engaged from the northern part of the Danube Valley.
The aviators' missions were simple. The Czech based planes would destroy the German air bases in Saxony, destroying as many as possible on the ground while they enjoyed the element of surprise. The planes based in Hungary struck at Switzerland and Austria. Their primary targets were the German planes and airbases and their secondary targets were the German forces stationed in Austria. Hell would rain from the sky.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The entire Hungarian fleet sailed into the Adriatic, heading into the Mediterreanean at full speed. There they would head to join the Roman Fleet at Gibraltar. This was the greatest naval deployment in the history of the country. True, the Romans would be in overall command of the naval operation, but for once they would be a vital asset in the defence of their country. Glory and honour would be theirs and perhaps death as well. The mood of the sailors was good, but there was apprehension as well.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the Sudetenland super heavy artillery was moved into position, aimed at the German bunkers and defences that held the German parts of the mountains. Artillery pieces, field guns, and fortress weapons would be added to the hellish barrage of the super heavies.
Light broke over the mountains. The Hungarians wouldn't be sending in men yet. First the guns would do their work and then engineers and crack troops would evaluate their work and strike to finish the job.
Thunder shattered the silence and the hammers of a hundred mad giants struck the earth. Earth and smoke were blasted into the sky as men rent the earth with their machines, intent on turning the living into the dead and the land into ruin.
Last edited by Cynical Cat on Fri Jan 22, 2010 6:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
-
Cynical Cat
- Arch-Magician
- Posts: 11930
- Joined: Thu Jun 09, 2005 8:53 pm
- 19
- Location: Ice Sarcophagus outside a ruined Jedi Temple
- Contact:
#100
Attack Plan
In Croatia, the Elite Division acts to secure all German personnel at 1 am.
Hungary
2am
2 Wings of Transport Zeppelins take 5 Elite Regiments and air drop them in the Northern Danube Valley border region with orders to disrupt the Austrian rear lines and transport and logistics between Austria and Germay until they link up with Hungarian forces
Predawn: Aerial assault launched from Hungary. Primary target is the airfleets based in Switzerland. Secondary Targets are Austrian military units and bases.
Attackers
12 Long Range Fighter Wings
2 Ground Attack Fighter Wings
4 Interceptor Fighter Wings
10 Long Range Bomber Wings
7 Ground Attack Bomber Wings
Simultaneously, air assault launched from Czechoslavakia on
Saxony airfleets.
Attackers
8 Long Range Fighter Wings
3 Long Range Bomber Wings
Dawn attack on German Sudetenland fortifications. Initially, primarily artillery bombardment.
Attackers:
1 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
3 Elite Mountain Divisions with Artillery and Field Artillery Regiments (occupying Sudetenland fortifications)
2 Elite Infantry Divisions with Siege Artillery and Engineering Regiments
Ground Assault from Hungary, breaking out through the Danube Valley
1st Army, attacking into northern Austria.
2 Motorized Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
2 Light Tank Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Heavy Tank Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
2 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 AAA Regiments
2nd Army attacking into northern Austria.
2 Motorized Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
1 Light Tank Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
1 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
1 Motorized Divison with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
1 AAA Regiment
3rd Army attacking into sorthern Austria
1 Motorized Division with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigade
1 Light Tank Division with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Cavalry Divisions with Field Artillery Regiments
1 Elite Division with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigade
1 Motorized Divison with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Elite Mountain Divisions with Artillery and Field Artillery Regiments
2 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
1 AAA Regiment
Reinforcing the attack to help destroy pockets of heavy resistance
2 Elite Infantry Divisions with Siege Artillery and Engineering Regiments
2 Siege Zeppelins
Remaining in Hungary
2 AAA Regiments
4 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery Regiments
3 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
Ground attack plan is simple. Rapid attack with heavy artillery support and any available air support. Light tanks and cavalry maneuver to achieve tactical superiority while heavy tanks break through weak points. Enemy lines are penetrated, rear lines are attacked and disrupted and the enemy is encircled for easy destruction.
Redeployments
3 Ground Attack Fighter Wings in Serbia to Czechoslovakia
5 Fighter Wings in Bosnia to Romania
2 Ground Attack Wings in Romania to Czechoslovakia
2 Long Range Bomber Wings in Romania to Czechoslovakia
After redeployment, the aircraft newly arrived in Czechoslovakia will join in the offensive
In Croatia, the Elite Division acts to secure all German personnel at 1 am.
Hungary
2am
2 Wings of Transport Zeppelins take 5 Elite Regiments and air drop them in the Northern Danube Valley border region with orders to disrupt the Austrian rear lines and transport and logistics between Austria and Germay until they link up with Hungarian forces
Predawn: Aerial assault launched from Hungary. Primary target is the airfleets based in Switzerland. Secondary Targets are Austrian military units and bases.
Attackers
12 Long Range Fighter Wings
2 Ground Attack Fighter Wings
4 Interceptor Fighter Wings
10 Long Range Bomber Wings
7 Ground Attack Bomber Wings
Simultaneously, air assault launched from Czechoslavakia on
Saxony airfleets.
Attackers
8 Long Range Fighter Wings
3 Long Range Bomber Wings
Dawn attack on German Sudetenland fortifications. Initially, primarily artillery bombardment.
Attackers:
1 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
3 Elite Mountain Divisions with Artillery and Field Artillery Regiments (occupying Sudetenland fortifications)
2 Elite Infantry Divisions with Siege Artillery and Engineering Regiments
Ground Assault from Hungary, breaking out through the Danube Valley
1st Army, attacking into northern Austria.
2 Motorized Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
2 Light Tank Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Heavy Tank Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
2 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 AAA Regiments
2nd Army attacking into northern Austria.
2 Motorized Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
1 Light Tank Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
1 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigades
1 Motorized Divison with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
1 AAA Regiment
3rd Army attacking into sorthern Austria
1 Motorized Division with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigade
1 Light Tank Division with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Cavalry Divisions with Field Artillery Regiments
1 Elite Division with Field Artillery and Heavy Tank Brigade
1 Motorized Divison with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Elite Mountain Divisions with Artillery and Field Artillery Regiments
2 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
1 AAA Regiment
Reinforcing the attack to help destroy pockets of heavy resistance
2 Elite Infantry Divisions with Siege Artillery and Engineering Regiments
2 Siege Zeppelins
Remaining in Hungary
2 AAA Regiments
4 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery Regiments
3 Infantry Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
2 Elite Divisions with Field Artillery and Artillery Regiments
Ground attack plan is simple. Rapid attack with heavy artillery support and any available air support. Light tanks and cavalry maneuver to achieve tactical superiority while heavy tanks break through weak points. Enemy lines are penetrated, rear lines are attacked and disrupted and the enemy is encircled for easy destruction.
Redeployments
3 Ground Attack Fighter Wings in Serbia to Czechoslovakia
5 Fighter Wings in Bosnia to Romania
2 Ground Attack Wings in Romania to Czechoslovakia
2 Long Range Bomber Wings in Romania to Czechoslovakia
After redeployment, the aircraft newly arrived in Czechoslovakia will join in the offensive
Last edited by Cynical Cat on Wed Jan 20, 2010 6:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.