Warlords of Bara II (Closed, Please TG for Entry)

by **New Edom** » Thu Aug 22, 2013 11:19 pm

New Edomite National News Report More than 100,000 civilians had been forced to flee after fighting in Central Bara. These people reportedly fled after the government launched a fresh military campaign against the Anarcho-Syndicalist guerillas on Feb 12 in the Glasstower region. The campaign is aimed at the disarmament of the remainig Anarchist Forces and their local Anarcho-Syndicalist and tribal allies following the capture of the Hooded Man, whose identity has not yet been revealed, and his chief accomplice, Aloysius Lal. This action completed by New Edomite,Estovakivan, Adiran, Nalayan and Roman forces has been declared a great success.

Since May, the civilian population of central Bara has become increasingly victim of looting, extortion, killing and rape, according to WA first situation report dated 19 July covering the province Following the announcement of impending military operations in the province by the Government Forces against the remnants of the Anarchist insurgency. The protection of civilians has become a major concern, adds the report.
At least twelve large-scale attacks were registered since January involving killings, rapes, burning of houses, extortions and pillaging. The most deadly attack occurred in Ironbeck (north of Glasstower) . Approximately 77 persons were killed with swords, axes and knives or burned alive, and more than 700 houses were burnt. According to reports militia allies have also been responsible for pillaging, confiscations of harvests and food rations, destruction of houses and extortions and has perpetrated numerous rapes. There have also been reports of human trafficking in the area, with people disappearing and possibly turning up in foreign brothels. These reports are unsubstantiated but are being investigated by the office of the Attorney-General and the Ministry of Police.

General Perrin Pahath-Moab, the President of the Council, has reported satisfaction generally with the campaign, which he handled personally, and has handed over command to Lieutenant-General Solomon Barak, who will take command of the First Army Corps. “Our primary concern,” the President has said, “Is human lives, human dignity, human safety, human quality of life. We hope to bring this region to peace completely. Justice will be done…”

Military District of Fineberg, New Edom

General Solomon Barak was a powerfully built man with a rough olive tan, balding head, the kind of face that looked like it was carved out of weathered rocks, and he had a deceptively slow energy he brought to any room he entered.He sat back in his chair, bored of reading the numerous reports from the war that were scattered all over his desk. He'd been at it for hours with his staff popping in and out and it was pretty clear that his forces had the war sewn up as it was, he didn't really need to pore of these documents and come up with any brilliant strategies or the like. Now it was slogging, maintaining FOB security and refugee zone security. They had moved nearly 100,000 people out of the combat zone and the rest of the insurgents had been reduced to starving bandits playing hide and seek with revenge driven militias. The foreign units were mostly doing various forms of technology testing and target practice now. It was only the most wild and remote areas of the province that were considered dangerous, and they were under constant watch. Some 30,000 or so civilians were still in there somewhere, but they had always been there, always lived lousy lives in the marshes, and were mostly tribespeople and strange cultists. Some reports, unsubstantiated, said there were tens of thousands more that had never been properly subjected to a census, but he wasn’t interested in the unsubstantiated; he had enough to worry about.

Major Wendt had come in and it was just at the right time. There were fitness reports on all his units, though as far as he was concerned, unfortunately, the best were mostly foreign, and a handful of regulars. The rest were tribal and religious militia—unreliable in his opinion. “Wendt, I’m not commanding my Corps from Fineberg. I can’t. I need to be out there in the field.”

The lovely fair haired Anglo-German officer looked good today, and even better with her blue eyes widening in alarm. She was dressed in a relatively short uniform olive drab skirt that was revealing a considerable amount of her sleek, stocking-clad thighs as she walked, the lacy tops of her flesh toned hold-up stockings visible when she walked. also wore an olive drab blouse that seemed to struggle to contain her ample bosom, the top couple of buttons left undone and her deep cleavage left on show just in case the General wanted to look. The outfit was completed by a pair of sexy high heeled black shoes that made her slender legs look amazing. He smiled. “Worried?”

“A little…I mean where are we going to be? Silver River?” she asked hopefully.

“No, fuck, no, that’s too far away too, and I don’t wan to butt heads with that lesbo bitch Vrinn, trying to lord it over me—technically I outrank her but she has the Strategic Command, so that makes her pretty much my equal, it’s her baby. No, we’ll go to Penuel and take up a command position from there. 14th’s HQ is there, so we’ll make use of that.”

“It was a major battle zone just a few months ago,” she demurred, lowering her eyes as she put the fitness reports on his desk.

He flipped open one of the folders. “Lord God in Heaven—how do you do a fitness report on people who wear body paint instead of body armor? This isn’t an army—it’s a circus. Ah well, when you’ve got lemons…don’t worry, Major. Be happy! Your promotion should come through any time. In the meantime, thanks to your excellent work in the field in Damoclea, I’m making you my Operations Staff Commander.”

“Wow, really?” breathed Wendt, excited. “I’d love that, that’s wonderful!”

“We need to celebrate.” He said, his flinty eyes seeking hers. Wendt flushed, and turning around stuck her rump towards him.. Her short skirt was taut across the peachy globes of her round posterior. Barak moved round from behind his desk and moved towards his gorgeous ADC. He held her by her shapely hips and turned her body so that her bottom was facing towards him.

“Bend over the desk,” he ordered.

“Lovely,” he murmured, as he gave the round globes a slight squeeze, amazed at their firmness, and his right hand began to rub Wendt’s right buttock, his palm stroking her rear flesh in small circles, almost worshipping her gorgeous behind. Wendt flushed; and closed her eyes, feeling the skirt whispering up to her waist, feeling her panties being slid down, and took a deep breath…

by **Hittanryan** » Fri Aug 23, 2013 1:59 am

Foundation Headquarters, Isidium, Republic of Adiron

'Adiron, if it is to prevent the spread of Imperial influence into New Edom, needs to make sure it doesn't reach that level of desperation again. New Edom needs aid for development, reconstruction, and its displaced peoples...'

"Sal?" a voice asked, interrupting the television. Sally Haldeman was the head of the Isidium Foundation's Overseas Committee; at present she was sitting in a small conference room with a coffee, watching the Press Secretary's statement. In her mid-50s, Sally was a silver-haired mother of three whose figure showed it, but apart from a couple of light wrinkles on her face had aged well. In most public appearances, she possessed an air of quiet dignity. She addressed the intern, Juan, with a slight smile, signaling he could go ahead.

"Email from the State Department. They want more information on our general strategy for New Edom," the young student explained.

Taking a thoughtful sip, Sally recalled the State Department's previous take on the subject. The government had previously advised them that Foundation workers would be at serious risk between the sectarian militias, warlords, and terrorist attacks in New Edom, and encouraged them to postpone their mission until some modicum of stability returned.

"I thought they already had the details of our aid and development packages," Sally replied.

"They do. The email said they wanted more on operational matters."

"Who did you say the email was from?"

"State Department."

"Who in the State Department? Which office?"

It seemed to don on the intern what Sally was asking for, at which point he reached for his smartphone to check. "Undersecretary of State for International Aid and Development Accardi."

Sally didn't need the full title, she knew who Accardi was already, but she thanked the intern politely and returned to her office. Walking back to her office, she glanced out over the city of Isidium. The city had gleaming skyscrapers above, green parks and rooftops below; streets were choked with traffic and people on the sidewalk going about their lives without worry...though plenty of them had a sense of urgency. In the distance, she could see the beach laden with lounging bodies, university currently being out.

Hadn't always been this way. A few decades ago Isidium had been a post-industrial wasteland, ruined economically by the oil fields drying up under Old Ceti. Triads ran the city during the Civil War through extensive protection rackets and addiction, playing nice with the Commoners to placate them. Sally grew up witnessing the cleanup effort. To see how far this city had come, there had to be hope for other places, right?

Upon returning to her office, she rang Undersecretary Accardi and was promptly asked to hold for a moment by his secretary. Finally an official-sounding voice addressed her. "Hello, Ms. Haldeman?"

"Hello, Undersecretary. We got your email, what questions might I be able to answer?"

"Well, I suppose I should tell you that the situation in East Bara has markedly improved over the past few weeks."

"That's good news," Sally replied.

"Yes, it is. Most military operations in East Bara are being drawn down, and Anarchist forces are being driven underground. The State Department has been advised that things have settled down, and that now might be an opportune time for the Foundation to begin its mission."

The Foundation had planned on going into New Edom immediately following the last civil war, in what was to be the Foundation's first major overseas operation. It was experimental, the reason all overseas affairs got lumped under the administration of a single committee was because thus far they'd been focused almost entirely on Cetan affairs.

"However," Accardi qualified, "things are still a bit hairy in East Bara, and well, no offense, but the Foundation hasn't had much experience in New Edom..."

"Any," Sally corrected him.

"...and there have been isolated incidents of aid workers being attacked."

"Mr. Accardi, what are your concerns?"

"The safety of your workers, first and foremost. For instance, how was the Foundation planning on contacting local communities for distribution?"

"After negotiating humanitarian access through New Edom's National Council for Refugees, we planned on informing community leaders of our mission and asking for their approval and later perhaps assistance. These leaders would likely be the clergy given East Bara's demographics," Sally explained clinically.

"It's a sound idea, but that still may be risky. Given the prevalence of opportunists in the area and some religious attitudes, I've been told some communities may be hostile to foreigners. Things are getting better, however, and we have a suggestion."

"What should we do then?"

"Contact the local military commanders first, then go to the clergy. If it's clear you are under the military's protection and with their expressed consent, it should open a few doors. After what they went through under the Anarchists, many communities appear to hold the military in a degree of esteem."

Sally knew operations in a foreign nation would be daunting, but to seriously consider how all of these little details might matter...it was enough to make one's head spin. "Very well, Mr. Accardi, your advice is appreciated. These are new waters for the Foundation, like you said, and we are open to your suggestions."

"The Nalayans and Shrailleen have been in East Bara for some time. Should the Foundation coordinate with them, they will likely be of help as well."

"Thank you, Undersecretary. Did you have other concerns regarding our mission?"

"No, the Foundation's distribution model and education programs have all been very effective with Imperial and Arcologian refugees. We are confident in your abilities on that front. Your proposal for air transit was approved, assuming the Edomites are amenable to it as well. Do you have any concerns of your own?"

"I'm sure we will later, but none off the top of my head right now. As of this moment, we have a lot of things to put in motion."

"Well, this office wishes you and the Foundation the best of luck, Ms. Haldeman. Good bye."

"Thank you, Undersecretary," she said, hanging up. When the Foundation had proposed helping New Edom, everything had made sense. It was a war-torn nation with all sorts of refugees without the capacity to care for them. Once Sally had the details though...it was all so much. She had a feeling New Edom was about to get its own committee.

by **New Edom** » Sat Aug 24, 2013 7:05 pm

Glasstower, Bara Province, New Edom

Miranda had come to Glasstower fleeing from the fighting like so many others, unsure of where her family was, saved from a massacre by the Anarcho-Syndicalists by happening to fall into a ditch and hiding under some bodies, shaking and emptying her bowels and bladder with terror. Hours later, she had dared emerge and thought she was the only person left alive on Earth. Her only possessions were her sandals, some clothing stuffed into a backpack that all travelers wore in case they ran into Anarchist bands, and the all-important documentation that included travel papers for a barely functioning province, in which areas of stability were like islands. Unless you lived on the coast or in Padan-Aran you were screwed. She mingled with the countless unfortunates begging on Glasstower's cratered streets. She ate soup that was doled out by makeshift soup kitchens and slept in the doorways of boarded-up shops.

Glasstower had suffered badly from the civil wars and neglect; the remaining wealthy (rich enough to live at pre-war middle class standards, but not wealthy enough to be able to flee, connected to property they dared not leave and couldn't get rid of) lived in gated communities or along well-appointed avenues guarded at both ends by the Militia. The less privileged lived in overcrowded and rotting houses or on the streets. Many were refugees who'd migrated not from distant war-torn or famine-struck foreign countries but from the hinterland of the River Buann that had finally been overwhelmed by the rising tide. The traffic in Glasstower's congested roads was a miscellaneous assortment of electric cars and buses, bicycle-driven vehicles and even make-shift carts pulled by donkeys and mules.

By chance, she heard of another refugee centre in Holiness District that might be able to help her if she was willing to work there for no pay. The remuneration for a day's work was meagre. It amounted to nothing more than the use of a second-hand blanket and a meal that was double the size of what Miranda normally got to eat. That was all. But it was something. She moved in with another woman called Livilia.

Miranda was helping to boil a pot of stew on a stove, while Livilia doled it out into wooden bowls that were greedily snatched from her by desperate supplicants in the long queue that stretched ahead of her. This queue had started to form well before dawn and many of the hungry and needy had been waiting for hours. Elisha frequently got acolytes to go up and down passing out mint tea (the one thing that was still cheap) to tide off the hunger pangs and leading people in singing hymns.

"How's it going?" asked Elisha cheerfully. He was the old Apostolic Priest who'd organised the soup kitchen after Anarchist insurgents on a 'relocation mission' had burnt down a similar enterprise in Shavan. This was an inferno in which dozens of helpless people were incinerated. As Elisha frequently reminded Miranda and the others who occasionally worked for him, things might be bad in Glasstower but they were much worse in Shavan and even worse down in the Triangle. Miranda wondered whether Elisha was just saying that to comfort people who usually saw a capital city on television that still had expensive shops, art galleries and public monuments. Was it really so bad in New Edom's distant far south? Miranda wasn't sure. She'd never even been as far south as Fineberg. It could be on the moon for all she knew.

There was a television pinned to the soup kitchen wall tuned to a news channel despite the many complaints from those queuing. They'd rather watch a quiz show or a situation comedy that showed a life of indescribable luxury led by upper middle-class families affluent enough to live in a gated community. What made matters worse was that Elisha insisted on screening news from the NNC which was a television company that currently attracted only a small percentage of the national audience. And this was for good reason. The NNC News was pretty basic following the Anarchist attacks of a few months ago. were too many depressing news items about famine and drought, often happening in countries no one had ever heard of, and not enough about celebrities and television talent shows. Indeed, at the same time as Livilia was ladling out soup, the newscaster was droning on about the Olympics.

"Do you think it'll be the end?" asked a man with as good as no teeth at all and patchy looking skin with well healed burn scars all over it.

"The end?" wondered Livilia.

"You know: when the antichrist comes, establishes hell on Earth and then the Lord comes to us.," he said.

"The other signs are not yet present, said Elisha cheerfully as he hovered behind Livilia. "People just get all excited because now when an earthquake happens on the other side of the world we hear about it in five minutes over the internet.”

The ragged man clucked and shook his head. “You know what they say. That there’s a man going around taking names, and that he decides who to save and who to blame. Everyone won’t be treated all the same. There’ll be a golden ladder reaching down—“

“When the man comes around!” laughed Elisha. “That’s from a song, you fool! Take your soup, go sit down and stop trying to frighten people.”

"Yes, Father." But the man looked annoyed, and possibly, reflected Livilia he’d never heard the song before, just heard the words from some other lunatic.

"We've got a wider choice on the menu," said Elisha raising his voice over the conversation. "We've got two soups now. There's cracked wheat and onion, and there’s Tomato Vegetable."

"No meat though," said someone in the queue. "I ain't had no meat for ages."

"There's no real meat anywhere anyway anymore," said another. "It’s all going to the 100% Pure Beef Factories, you got to be rich to afford that…”

Livilia wasn't sure. But each discontented voice quietened down after she'd ladled out the soup and the supplicant shuffled to one side to gulp it down under the canvas shelter outside the battered old cafe that housed Elisha's soup kitchen. All the while above Livilia's head the newsreaders gave a litany of yet more depressing news about the world's woes. Was it any wonder that the people queuing up for food would rather watch a A Guy on a Buffalo or Living with Humanity or sports?

"The Lord will provide," Elisha was fond of saying. How he could stay so cheerful Miranda never knew. Yet the man would be, after running the soup kitchen all day, coach at least an hour of soccer with kids later on in an abandoned field the Apostolic and End Times Churches had gotten people to clear of rocks; it was mostly grit, so it wasn't good enough for planting and they'd organized it into an impromptu sports arena--the main one in town was closed off right now and being used as a refugee center.

"The Lord will provide." it sounded feeble, empty of promise and lost in the wind when Miranda said it, as she wearily made her way home among the crowds of people, vanishing into a sea of weary bruised dirty bare flesh...

by **Hittanryan** » Sat Aug 24, 2013 9:56 pm

To: Director Jonas Ballard, National Council for Refugees, Fineberg, New Edom
From: Sally Haldeman, Isidium Foundation, Isidium, Adiron
Subject: Application for Access

Dr. Ballard,

We hope this message finds you well in these troubled times for New Edom. With the scaling back of major military operations, the Isidium Foundation would like to request access for humanitarian aid into East Bara. Our member organizations primarily provide access to food, potable water, medical care, shelter, sanitation, and education. The Foundation's distribution models have thus far enjoyed success in Ceti with Arcologian and Imperial refugees, though we would greatly appreciate any Council recommendations so we may tailor our mission to New Edom's specific needs.

Although news reports suggest our mission should be focused in the Glasstower area, we find ourselves relying on the Council to direct the Foundation to more specific locations best-suited to receiving shipments and distribution. Our tentative plan involves flying most of our supplies and volunteers through Fineberg International Airport by means of cargo and passenger aircraft, followed by overland transport by truck or train if possible. Coordination with the Edomite military would be preferable, especially in light of security concerns in the area. The Foundation currently has 500 volunteers prepared to move overseas immediately serving in various roles, with more to follow depending on circumstance.

A community-based therapeutic care program is being planned to combat malnutrition in the worst-hit areas, and early water assessments will allow us to determine the nature and scope of East Bara's water and sanitation needs. Blankets, fuel, tents, and other survival essentials will be distributed as well. Free clinics will be established in areas deemed high-risk, and Teachers for the Future would like to establish schools and training centers throughout the area. The Foundation can provide the Council with greater details of both standard procedure and estimates of total available aid upon request.

We look forward to working with you to restore health and dignity to the people of East Bara.

Sincerely,
Sally Haldeman, Chair, Isidium Foundation Overseas Committee

by **New Edom** » Sat Aug 24, 2013 10:38 pm

THE NATIONAL COUNCIL OF REFUGEES
To Sally Haldeman,Chair, Isidium Foundation, Isidium, Adiron

Dear Ms. Haldeman,

First of all, I am very grateful for your kind offer to help displaced persons in East Bara Province. While NGOs from the Shrailleeni Empire, New Macureus and other nations have helped out enormously in the Fineberg area, and while foreign military units attached to CPO peacekeeping such as the Romans and Nalayans have also been invaluable in creating refugee camps in certain areas, there are many displaced persons our own resources are stretched too thin to help with.

The number one area that I would suggest starting in would be Glasstower. Glasstower is cut off from all but military convoys at the moment, as rail and road travel for trucks or containers is far too dangerous. Travel from Penuel to Glasstower can be established for overland routes or flights can be done if necessary.

I have spoken to my contacts in the Ministries of Defense, Health, and Education and they are happy to discuss actual plans with representatives of your organization. They have recommended a meeting between myself, anyone sent to represent Isidum, and representatives of the Ministries in question in order to be absolutely clear about the mission, it's mandate, and cooperation with national and local government authorities. I hope that this meeting will prove fruitful. In light of this, I have provided briefing notes for you.

I have the honour to be
Doctor Jonas Ballard
Director, National Council for Refugees

by **Trivval** » Sun Aug 25, 2013 2:01 am

[Tag pending post. To keep you entertained until I post, have a TO&E]

Battlegroup Christchurch – 53x MA9A2 IFV, 14x PPMVC, 59x PPMVU, 34x PPMV, 2x PPMVL, 6x PPMVR, 6x PPMVE, 68x VLT M5, 9x HT9A7 IRM, 2x HT9A7 OUY, 19x MA9A2 EV, 40x MA9A2 MEV, 18x MA9A2 CV, 1x MA9A2 BCR 16x M9D, 8x AY2-AVEE, 16x MA9A2 ATGM, 4x AY2-2E, 3x MA9A2 RV, 14x AY2-1M – 1458 Men

by **Jedoria** » Sun Aug 25, 2013 12:35 pm

It was hard enough for a World Assembly organization to get noticed in a country that didn’t even listen to the WA half the time. It was even harder to get funding. But, with the help from a few generous souls (And some more selfish who nevertheless thought it would boost their image), the Jedorian Branch had managed to pull through.

Truth be told, whether the Jedorian Branch was even legitimate or not to the WA was unclear. But they had the funding and the personnel, so few could fault them. And when times were tough, was it really much of a concern?

William Dascu didn’t seem to mind. He was here to help, not to get stuck in paperwork for hours on end. New Edom was a nation in turmoil, and if they could help, then by the Earth they would.

To: Director Jonas Ballard, National Council for Refugees
From: William Dascu, head of the World Health Authority, Jedorian Branch

Greetings Dr. Ballard, I am William Dascu. I am writing to you in hope that the World Health Authority-Jedoria Branch could come to your assistance in what I am certain is a difficult period for many Edomites. Civil war, sectarian violence, and anarchist uprisings do not make for a stable nation, and as usual, it is the innocent civilians that suffer the most. We in the Jedorian branch can only watch in sorrow as everyday people are forced through hardship after hardship, with no sight of reprieve.

So I ask on behalf of the World Health Authority for permission. Permission to gain access into New Edom, so we can do our bit for victims of violence everywhere. I have 200 volunteers arrayed, all eager and motivated and awaiting orders. If the National Council sees fit, we can have them on the ground in just a few days.
Understandably of course, certain events must transpire before we can move, so alongside our request for access I am available for any sort of conference or meeting that may be required before entry. I’m certain we can hammer out any details that need to be put in order. Feel Free to contact me at 24-7556-2237.

As for our services, we are naturally best at what the WHA is about: the distribution of clinical assistance to affected areas. This includes foodstuffs, medicine, and if necessary, preventative vaccines and water purification equipment.

Worth noting is the phenomenal performance of our logistical team, who have proven time and time again to be extremely efficient and success oriented. If chosen, they can provide a great coordinating effort between other humanitarian organizations, ourselves, and the New Edomite government. If you have any questions concerning them, please feel free to contact me at the aforementioned number.

We look forward to your reply,
William Dascu, Jedorian Branch of the World Health Authrotiy

by **Late Roman Empire** » Sun Aug 25, 2013 2:15 pm

It didn't matter to Titus Clemens that the Augustus was his old friend Valerian these days. He was still, well, the Roman Emperor, and nothing could change the fact that this man ultimately held the lives and deaths of millions literally in his hands. Old friend or not, even the Master of Offices didn't hesitate to prostrate himself and kiss the purple of the imperial robe in the audience chamber of the Sacred Palace.

Then the Divine Augustus spoke to him, his old friend the Master of Offices, thus, "We are less than pleased at the latest news from Glasstower, our old friend and companion. It has come to our attention, due to a newly discovered report from the late lamented Felicia Galeria, formerly head of the Imperial Relief Office, that conditions in Glasstower are much worse than we previously believed. These people are suffering, and in the bowels of compassion which all true Christians must have for the plight of the poor and destitute, we are required by the laws of Christ and His Gospel to act for the betterment of those as are in such dire need.

"Accordingly, we are now appointing one Lucilla Antonina the new head of the Imperial Relief Office, and ordering her to report directly to you, Titus. We have every confidence that our appointment shall fill well the vacancy left by her illustrious predecessor. Yes, Titus, we know that she is amorously attached to you, but we trust that you can do without her from time to time, such as the next few months. We doubt that you will lack for mistresses, since you have found your confidence these days.

"Furthermore, we direct you to instruct Count Jovinus, in his new capacity as Count of the Sacred Largesse, to provide monies toward additional aid in East Bara through the CPO. The amount that we wish to see in the form of new shipments of food, medicine, medical supplies, drink, as well as other necessities of life, shall not exceed 500,000,000 solidi, but shall attain no less than 200,000,000 solidi, toward the relief of people thus far left out of the bulk of the aid. Now that the Anarchists are less of a local threat, there is no reason not to distribute such aid, presumably through the additional 3,000 volunteers who have consented to join the Imperial Relief mission in New Edom. You will also attach, through the Count of the Privy Purse, some 10,000,000 solidi, a full tenth of our personal wealth, toward the purchase of well-preserved meat and dairy products for those who no doubt suffer from malnutrition due to such a low-protein diet. It concerns us greatly that the absence of meat and dairy from the diets of the local population could well cause them to suffer from such conditions as pellagra, as you might imagine. Consider this to be our annual tithe for 2013, would you not agree? The Patriarch has already agreed with this, believing it to be a proper manifestation of our true Christian benevolence. What say you?"

And thus it began. The new Imperial Relief Officer was appointed at last, after some wrangling and thought on the Emperor's part, and a relatively junior official was promoted to that post....a female officer of state, no less, much like Felicia herself.

The formal notice was then distributed to the host and recipient nation, of course.

To: Her Majesty, Mara I, Queen of New Edom, and His Excellency, Brigadier General Perrin Pahath-Moab, President of the Council of Ministers of New Edom

Majesty and Excellency,

We are pleased to inform you that it is our pleasure to direct our Master of Offices, Count Titus Clemens, to begin work on a massive new increase in humanitarian assistance, both in kind, in personnel, and in finances, as part of a plan to greatly reduce the problems of poverty, hunger, malnutrition, illiteracy, etc. in the badly affected former war zone known as Glasstower in East Bara. This will consist of both a personal donation of 10,000,000 solidi (15,000,000 standard dollars) toward specific purchases of meat and dairy products for those malnourished and in danger of pellagra due to the absence of meat and dairy from the local diet, a new reinforcement of humanitarian volunteers numbering some 3,000 in total, some 200,000,000 (300,000,000 standard dollars) to 500,000,000 (750,000,000 standard dollars) solidi in new financial and humanitarian aid distributed through the Cornellian Peace Organization, all under the direction and administration of the new Imperial Relief Officer, Lucilla Antonina, who like her predecessor, will spend considerable time for the near future in New Edom. We trust that her visa will be coming for her soon enough to begin her mission and that of her staff in East Bara.

Once again, we hope that this additional commitment will facilitate the recovery of East Bara, and especially Glasstower, from its present horrors of poverty, misery, and suffering. We further hope that this distribution will be a continued demonstration of partnership and friendship toward your nation, of goodwill and benevolence on our part.

In hoc signo vinces,
Valerian Augustus

by **New Edom** » Sun Aug 25, 2013 3:59 pm

The Palace of Justice, Fineberg, New Edom

“And so the possibility of a crash in the stock market of New Edom and a plummet of the value of the Copper has brought the issue of government bailouts to the forefront of the Ministry’s agenda,” said General Zelek. Faces around the lounge like room where the cabinet met in the Palace of Justice were grim. The President looked tired, and somehow withdrawn.

"We need to do something now! The people's welfare -- not to mention national and private businesses -- are in serious danger,” said Adrianna Colonna with a sharp tone in her voice. She wondered if the Squareheads, as she called the military part of the government, were starting to crack under dealing with complexities they were not, in her opinion, trained to deal with. "We need an extensive support program for the businesses that make our country great, otherwise we might as well go back to being a third world country and hoping that the CPO bails us out.”

"Never mind that some of the businesses on this list are owned by some of your relations,” jeered the Minister of Culture, Colonel Solomon Cain.

Adrianna’s eyes flashed. “You know what you can do? You can—“

“Hold it: you're talking about doing what?” exclaimed Benjamin Kent. "Government bailouts won't solve anything. They'll only redistribute wealth to those we happen to favor at that particular moment, while placing a crushing burden onto everybody else. The government must instead cut taxes across the board and axe all unnecessary social programs, particularly our welfare system. Look, we’ve just had a letter from—“

Unexpectedly the door opened, which was highly unusual, but it was clear in a moment the reason why: Colonel Simon Daniel marched in, stood at attention, and said, “Her Majesty the Queen.”

Everyone stood up, hiding exasperation, as Queen Mara came in. She was dressed in a simple black skirt that stopped right before her knees, black stockings, with a creamed colored thin turtleneck, and a pair of sling back heels. Following her was Countess Merodach and Colonel Horvath, who discreetly stood back near the other aides. Mara looked around, her beautiful eyes widening, and said, “Oh shit, am I late or something?”

“No, this is a cabinet meeting.” Perrin said politely. Their two dogs ran together, sniffing one another’s butts. Mara smiled. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could skip a lot of the formalities and greet one another like that?”

“What, by smelling each other’s asses?” exclaimed Colonel Cain, his eyes widening as big as Mara’s.

Mara burst out laughing. “No, silly! I mean like by…” she sketched the air with her hands. “You know…like…”

“Your Majesty,” said Adrianna in a creamy voice that poured honey into the conversation, “We were just talking about a potential financial crisis, and I think that both Mr. Kent and I had some interesting points of view…”

“Oh yeah, right, that’s why I came!” Mara beamed. Everyone was surprised, but no one admitted it.

Admiral Rand said, in a voice like a kindly uncle’s, “Really. Why don’t you tell us all about it, honey?”

Mara flashed a smile at him, since she thought of him as kind of an uncle. The kind of uncle that pinches your butt when you start getting curves but also buys you nice presents and doesn’t really take any liberties beyond that; the kind of uncle you know wants to do more than that and makes up for it by spoiling you. As opposed to…she collected her thoughts quickly. “Oh yeah, okay well the Emperor sent us this nice letter, Perrin, did you read it?”

Perrin wished the Emperor dead. “Yes, I did, I’m so glad you got your copy.” Mara walked over and sat on the table beside him, dangling her shapely legs over it, and didn’t notice as Rand, Zelek, Kent, and Cain all adjusted their positions in their chairs. Perrin did not, but he was not unmoved by her trusting hazel eyes; he just didn’t trust them altogether.

“Well I think that we need to not be too proud. I think that we should consider cutting welfare funding and letting our foreign friends help us out.” Mara said. “We need to focus on practical ways to rebuild the country. I mean if we just tear open the granaries then…” she drew in a deep breath. “Then you know, there won’t be like, any grain in the granaries, and that would totally suck.”

“That’s a wonderful idea—“ Adrianna began, seizing the moment.

“Put a sock in it and let the Queen finish, will you?” said Sidney Harcourt with a flinty smile. He widened it as she glared in it.

“Thanks Sid.” Mara beamed. “Sorry Adrianna, but you kinda have this habit of interrupting, you know? I mean we got a President of the Council so he can like, lead the government, not so people can say ‘oh pick me me me’, right? Like maybe…” she made a motion of diminishing something. Adrianna bowed, hiding her fury.

“Anyway, where was I?” Mara asked.

“Totally suck,” said Perrin, smiling faintly. “Well it so happens that I agree with you. We’re fortunate to have good allies—we are in a crisis, and you are right. You have touched upon it with a needle.” He stood up, and took her hands. “I am glad we are in such complete agreement.” By now everyone was grinning about this like a pack of hyenas, regardless of their feelings.

Mara gave him a hug, and smiled up at him with eyes glittering with happy tears. “Thank you so much, I adore you cousin! I’d like to see the letter before you send it…” She felt a little nervous asking this, but was rewarded by Perrin saying gently to her, “You have shown your devotion to me, I show my devotion to you. Soyez tranquille.. Whenever a letter is addressed to both of us, both our offices will work together on it, we will both approve it.”

"This was my idea," muttered Kent under his breath.

"What?" said Cain.

"Nothing." Kent sipped his warming ice water and nursed feelings of resentment and vengeance.

FROM HER MAJESTY QUEEN MARA I AND HIS EXCELLENCY BRIGADIER-GENERAL PERRIN PAHATH-MOAB, PRESIDENT OF THE COUNCIL OF MINISTERS

TO HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY VALERIAN AUGUSTUS

We are humbled by the spirit of Chrstian rulership that Your Augustness has shown to your allies and friends during our time of crisis. Your considerable generosity will be of enormous help in our reparations.

We are glad to receive your appointed Imperial Relief Officer, Lucilla Antonina, who will be welcome. Of course we are glad to assure her and all her staff waivers and travel visas.

It is also our pleasure to bestow upon Sulpicius Vitellianus the Golden Eagle with Cross First Class, one of our highest military decorations, and Senior Centurion Metellus with the Golden Eagle with Cross Second Class , and the Iron Wolf First Class, for their heroism and leadership during the Buann River Campaign. We are honoured to have had two such gallant officers serving in our country, and hope that these honours are acceptable.

In Christ,
Mara the First, Queen of the Allied States
Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab, President of the Council of Ministers

by **Hittanryan** » Mon Aug 26, 2013 1:14 am

Fineberg, New Edom

Flying across the Tartarian Ocean never really feels like a short trip, and that went double for Mission Coordinator Brian Moreau's journey. He hadn't heard all the details, only that something in Arcologia was forcing the plane to take an alternate, longer route. Since this was on "short" notice, the plane had to sit on the tarmac to fuel up extra, which in turn pushed it back in the taxi lineup. This added about 2 hours to an already transoceanic flight. If nothing else, this gave him plenty of time to read the briefing notes Sally sent him.

Upon arrival (which was also behind schedule), he found out that something had been misfiled for his CNA waiver on top of that, and if he wanted to leave the airport clothed he'd have to reapply and wait for some temporary documentation. This process took another hour. Finally, since he'd been late, the car he'd arranged to drive him to the Adiran embassy was long gone, and he had to call for a new one. All told, instead of arriving at the Adiran embassy around 7 PM local time, he pulled in the front gate at 12:30 AM. Mercifully, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Moreau was a tall, bespectacled, middle-aged man, bald except for a crown of salt and pepper hair. He was ex-State Department, specifically from the Office of International Aid and Development. Part of his job there involved dealing with foreign governments on matters pertaining to Adiran government aid programs, which was how he got pegged as a Mission Coordinator for the Foundation when he left the State Department. This was considerably different, most government foreign aid was in the form of money, not volunteers or goods. However, the Foundation so far had been focused on Cetan business, and until they built up some in-house experience with international efforts, he and people like him were what they had to work with.

The drive to the Ministry of Health in the morning was uneventful, aside from the occasional pretty girl walking down the street in full compliance with local laws. Security, in the form of several fully-armed soldiers, showed him into the granite brick building and directed him to Minister of Health Christopher Martin. The interior at a glance looked impressive for a ministry from a civil war-wracked nation, sporting high ceilings, polished granite floors, circular staircases, and decorative architecture throughout.

There were a few cracks in the facade however. On the walls, he noticed a couple of rectangles markedly darker than the surroundings, suggesting the place's artwork may not have survived the last war intact. The ministry's office equipment was functional but nearly a decade old, computers were fitted with bulky CRT monitors, and a huge copier in the back gave Moreau flashbacks to an especially troublesome one he wrestled with in the office back during his State Department days. When that thing finally bit the dust, he'd considered going out to find some champagne.

Eventually, likely having to ask directions from a couple of people owing to the unconventional layout of the Ministry, Moreau made his way to Martin's office. So far, he was on time. "Minister? Brian Moreau, Mission Coordinator for the Isidium Foundation," he introduced himself, offering a firm handshake. The man was wearing a grey business suit and carrying a leather briefcase full of notes from home.

by **New Edom** » Mon Aug 26, 2013 10:25 am

The Ministry of Health, Fineberg

The office assistant had led Moreau into the grand but somewhat empty office—it gave the impression of having once been a large room fit for a grand piano and soiree, but now had, in the middle, a large rosewood desk surrounded by comfortable chairs with a table nearby with what appeared to be drinks and refreshments on it, a large and empty fireplace, a bookshelf with a number of books on medicine, law and government procedure, and a tall cage with a large green parrot in it greedily eating figs and whistling now and then. The assistant discreetly bowed out. Martin was a medium brown skinned Dengali with a neat moustache and short hair, a rather weathered face and a pleasant smile. “Mr. Moreau, such a pleasure. Do come in.” First there were introductions—the heavy set, kindly Anglo-German Dr. Ballard was introduced “National Council for Refugees”. There followed ten minutes of offering refreshments. Mint tea? Honey? Fizzy water? Fruit juice? How were things in Adiron? Compliments were expressed about the Isidium Foundation. Delicate inquiries about family. Then, at last, Martin got down to business.

“Mr. Moreau, our Ministry has three main departments, 12 directorates under those departments, and has only in the last year established 24 clinical health centers in rural areas, 12 municipal general hospital facilities, 4 mental health facilities, 10 oncology centers, 10 pediatric hospital facilities, and 8 women’s health facilities. At a glance this sounds impressive, especially as we also have Church run facilities, numbering 843, and 5 current NGO run facilities in the greater Fineberg area. In short—this is not enough—it is better than existed before, but when you take into account 102 million people with needs, it is overwhelming.” Dr. Martin finally said, with a look of sorrow on his face. We have had crises in Fineberg, in the rest of Bara, in Gloria Regis, along the Nalayan border, and there is seemingly no end to it, though we have broken the back of the insurgency that was causing the major problems in East Bara.”

“Our own agency is stretched thinner than the loaves and the fishes,” said Dr. Ballard, putting down his cup and saucer and leaning forward earnestly. “The only thing we could possibly provide to you would be warm bodies—Lord knows we have enough of those. I suppose a question about that would be, to be honest, could you provide for our own volunteers as well as your own?” he seemed tired even having to ask this question. “Because…to be blunt—our jar is empty. There are at least 100,000 people who need help.”

by **New Edom** » Mon Aug 26, 2013 10:28 am

THE NATIONAL COUNCIL OF REFUGEES
To William Dascu, Head of the World Health Authority, Jedorian Branch

Dear Mr. Dascu,

First of all, I am very grateful for your kind offer to help displaced persons in East Bara Province. While NGOs from the Shrailleeni Empire, New Macureus and other nations have helped out enormously in the Fineberg area, and while foreign military units attached to CPO peacekeeping such as the Romans and Nalayans have also been invaluable in creating refugee camps in certain areas, there are many displaced persons our own resources are stretched too thin to help with.

The number one area that I would suggest starting in would be Glasstower. Glasstower is cut off from all but military convoys at the moment, as rail and road travel for trucks or containers is far too dangerous. Travel from Penuel to Glasstower can be established for overland routes or flights can be done if necessary.

I have spoken to my contacts in the Ministries of Defense, Health, and Education and they are happy to discuss actual plans with representatives of the World Health Authority. They have recommended a meeting between myself, anyone sent to represent Isidum, and representatives of the Ministries in question in order to be absolutely clear about the mission, it's mandate, and cooperation with national and local government authorities. I hope that this meeting will prove fruitful. In light of this, I have provided briefing notes for you.

I apologize in advance for the lack of accompanying statistics in the attachment, but at this time there is no statistical assessment, and that is something that your office might be helpful in establishing.

I have the honour to be
Doctor Jonas Ballard
Director, National Council for Refugees

by **Hittanryan** » Tue Aug 27, 2013 12:16 am

Ministry of Health, Fineberg

Moreau was explicitly told not to waive the hospitality he was likely to receive in favor of getting down to business. That was a faux pas in New Edom, even though the ritual ran contrary to the usual Adiran sense of urgency. He made small talk, drank a cup of tea, and touched on politics (tiptoeing around any potential landmines, Damoclea being one of them). When at last they took their seats and began in earnest, he was relieved.

'One hundred thousand...' Moreau remembered his reaction back when he first read the briefing notes. 'That many, displaced very recently almost all at once...' Imperial and Arcologian refugees had previously come in a steady stream, not a rogue wave. Once the basic facilities of the camps back in Adiron were set up, it had simply been a matter of maintenance and gradual expansion. This was a totally different scale from anything the Foundation had dealt with before, and to boot it was taking place in a foreign setting accompanied by violence.

Going into the meeting, Moreau was determined not to show any signs of his own apprehension. The Foundation had pledged to help these people, and it would do its damnedest to accomplish something here despite the odds. Last thing New Edom needed was to lose even more hope. "I'm sorry to hear the situation here has become so dire, Minister," Moreau replied sincerely. "For an operation of this scale, public health will be an immediate priority. Malnutrition and sanitation issues are ticking time bombs in densely-populated areas; if they take root it'll undermine any other efforts we make."

"The first wave of food aid will be triage of sorts. Its objective will be to treat acute malnutrition amongst at-risk groups: children (especially infants), pregnant and nursing women, and the elderly. They are more susceptible to, and are thus potential vectors for, communicable diseases. People suffering from complications will be admitted to therapeutic feeding centers for a length of time; without complications take-home rations should suffice. This hybrid approach has worked fairly well in the past with Arcologians," Moreau explained clinically. "Based on East Bara's climate, the Foundation believes it may be easier to collect and purify rainwater rather than attempt to treat river water from the Buan. Surface water is always at greater risk of contamination, to be safe we'd practically need a full-scale treatment plant, which the refugees don't have the luxury of waiting to build."

"If you do have people lined up, the Foundation will take all the help it can get, especially if it means an early increase in coverage. Generally we run short on workers before we ever run short on supplies; getting the aid is one thing, distributing it properly is the hard part," Moreau answered thoughtfully. "However, before we get ahead of ourselves, the Foundation will want to know in what capacity your people are able to assist. Some level of training will be required, even for distributing food aid. Off the top of my head, I imagine they would want to know if they had medical training so they might assist in clinics, or if they had worked with you in similar programs."

by **New Edom** » Tue Aug 27, 2013 4:49 pm

The Ministry of Health

“…Malnutrition and sanitation issues are ticking time bombs in densely populated areas; if they take root it’ll undermine any other efforts we make.” Moreau was saying.

Dr. Martin concealed his irritation. Does he think we are ignorant savages or something? However he quelled this feeling—they had agreed in cabinet that this must be done. Foreign aid, foreign effort would buy this government time. It would however look like he was licking up the other man’s spittle if he agreed eagerly, so he simply nodded, his face impassive.

Moreau continued, speaking of triage, of their actual plans. That was better—this was something simply practical. They were, in effect, hiring a contractor in exchange for what they knew was mainly about soothing the Adiran fears of too close ties with Arbites. Nice for Arbites, really, but more importantly genuinely good for New Edom. “Treatment plans at this stage are impractical I believe.” He glanced at Ballard, who said,

“However, we are able to use a sand and charcoal filter system that we’ve distributed in villages—they range from the size of an ordinary deep freezer to the size of a large walk in freezer, to give some perspective, and they are simple to construct out of concrete, stainless steel sheeting and varying grades of cleaned gravel, sand and charcoal. We need more of them made. In addition to this, Arcanum Armaments has produced a number of water filtration units that have been purchased by the Army to help.” Ballard said. “What we’d need help with mostly then is your organization cooperating with ours to help with distribution. We can get more workers for you as there are a number of people who’ve been laid off but are skilled factory or warehouse workers. So the principle should be the same—they are simply distributing products for different reasons. We have about 214 of our own people who have asked for work in exchange for food and board. What might be useful would be to have your people look over their employment records to see if they have measurable skills—though I believe that they do, and I would ask you to bear in mind that these 214 are our recommended list.” He didn’t add that the rest had been sent to the Gay Re-Education Program…

by **New Edom** » Tue Aug 27, 2013 6:05 pm

Re-Education Camp 5-8

"You might be regretting your decision back in the village. Your decision to join the Cause. But you don't really have any other options now. This is a new world. There is no right or wrong. No considerations of morality. There is only survival...and beyond that...truth. You need to learn the rules of this new world if you want to survive. I have the knowledge you need.

"Rule number one is that you do what I say when I say it. You can ask all the questions you want, but only while you are carrying out my order. I may or may not answer your questions.

"Rule number two, forget morality. You are not going to be judged on your moral character. You are going to be judged on your ability to please your comrades. You will do what you are told, when you are told to do it, no matter what it is. Morals are lies. Morals are lies taught by the moneymongers, the religious, the aristocrats, the liars and profiteers! You will be taught a new morality….”

Asahel shuddered and looked up at the ceiling. A pair of grey-green lizards chased one another into a crevice near the join in the wall. It was raining outside. He took a deep shaking breath of humid air. He was not back at the training camp. He saw the cross on the wall, with the legend I.N.R.I. on it. Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum. The image of a stern weathered priest came to his mind, and was blurred by a powerful man wearing an olive drab undershirt and green tiger pattern camouflage BDU pants tucked into jump boots.

He felt a hot rush of confusion, shame and arousal mixed, the arousal coming unbidden. You will learn that there is no morality as we teach you that all acts you thought were immoral are merely actions… NO!

He sat up abruptly. The small room gave him privacy, but he also felt like it was a cell. Without thinking he got up and walked out. It was a small room, not much bigger than a large closet, room enough for his cot and a trunk of belongings the size of a small suitcase. Along the concrete floored hallway he heard coughing and people splashing water, saw two others walking with towels, naked, towards the shower room. There was little routine here, he felt it would drive him crazy.

He had to get out of here, do something. The prayers and lessons were not helping; the daily work was the only thing worthwhile, and even then, digging and laying gravel gave him ample time to think; he could do hard work in his sleep. The Apostolic Church knew nothing of back breaking work, they were too gentle…no…that was wrong…

He just had to get out of here. And find some way to blind the memories, the singing. His eyes filled with tears and he retreated to his room, as he heard the voices like ghosts rising in his mind.

Arise, you victims from your slumbers…but no, I was the victim…wasn’t I? Was I? No…

by **Hittanryan** » Wed Aug 28, 2013 3:49 pm

Ministry of Health

Moreau was relieved the Council had employment records on its personnel, it would be much more feasible then asking all of them to submit a resume. "Your records should suffice in assessing your personnel's level of training. Assuming we can process them speedily, we should be able to determine where they would be most useful and what additional training they might require, if any at all," he explained.

"The filtration system you described sounds like it's working fine for the Council so far, and as long as it has a good track record the Foundation will make use of it as well. Since the systems can be easily constructed on-site that would be more ideal than us shipping in fully-built units, especially this early on. Foundation personnel could assist with installation, and we can allocate funds to procuring construction materials easily enough," Moreau replied.

"From your description of the filtration system and your personnel, it also sounds as though people who are able to construct them might also have the know-how to build some of the Foundation's ferro-cement water storage tanks once we're through the initial response phase. They are thin-walled, crack-resistant reinforced cement tanks which can be constructed without heavy machinery and easily repaired. Our smallest design can hold 40,000 liters, and can be built following a manual which we can distribute."

"The only other concern the Foundation might have with water is acid rain, owing to industrial emissions in Bara." He thumbed through the notes provided, and didn't find anything on the subject. "Forgive me for asking, but has the Council tested the pH of the rainwater in Glasstower? That information doesn't appear to be in my briefing notes, and I didn't want to assume."

Assuming he got an answer, Moreau judged he might want to move on. "As far as medical concerns go, the Foundation is compiling essential medicine lists, which the Council's recommendations have already been of help. We have ample stocks of anti-malarial, vaccines, anti-diarrheal, painkillers, and other medicines you requested in your initial communication, supplied by trusted international pharmaceutical providers. If you have additional concerns or a more comprehensive medicine list of your own, feel free to send it to us," Moreau offered.

"In the early phases, the Foundation will use what we refer to in-house as emergency health kits. A kit contains two types of units with different distribution models: basic and supplementary. Basic units contain essential oral and topical medicines which can be distributed by health outposts and small clinics staffed by volunteers with minimal training, increasing overall coverage. Supplementary units contain medicine which requires administration by trained medical personnel, almost always at a field hospital. There is no overlap in composition between the two units. Each kit is meant to service 10,000 people for 3 months without resupply."

by **New Edom** » Thu Aug 29, 2013 11:55 am

The Ministry of Health

“What you are proposing sounds very reasonable, Mr. Moreau. We are..” Ballard fumbled with large hands in a leather valise and brought out some papers that were in a neat plastic duotang marked “ASSESSMENT OF WATER QUALITY VALUES IN BUANN AND SILVER RIVER VALLEYS”.

“This study was done by the Department of Chemistry at Fineberg University for us under the authority of the Ministry of the Environment. Er…let me see…Samples were taken from six different sites and composite sample prepared were analyzed for pH, turbidity, electrical conductivity, total dissolved solids, total alkalinity, total hardness, calcium hardness…well as you can see it was pretty comprehensive.”

As he showed Moreau the study and did a quick summation, it was clear that the graduate students and professors doing the testing had gathered samples in triplicate and got composite samples for each site, had properly stored the samples and brought them back to the university’s lab. While the pH was about 6.9, chloride, sulphates and chromium levels were high. Rainwater pH was about 6.4 with the table of averages for the studies done--there was usually enough rain that triplicate samples could be taken easily. “There have been instances of sickness which we believe are related to polluted water tables particularly around Glasstower.” He finished and added, “You can keep the copy of this, and can contact the University if you need more details.”

"If there were no other concerns following that," said Dr. Martin, "I'd like to move on to security then. Will your organization be satisfied with the cooperation of our own military forces when it comes to security? It has been proposed by the Deputy Minister of Defense that a unit of New Edomite regular army forces should provide this security for convoys and encampments. Will that be satisfactory?" He realized he was getting tired--this was a clumsy speech, but once out, it was out.

by **Jedoria** » Thu Aug 29, 2013 4:53 pm

Downtown Sykios, Jedoria

The letter itself was pleasing. Recognition was key, and they had it. William Dascu finally had the opportunity to do good, and damn it they would. William couldn’t go himself of course; there was stuff to be accomplished at home. But he had just the man for the job, one Marius Hasdeu. Speak of the devil, he had just walked in.

“Marius, glad you’re here.” Dascu said, addressing the man. “We’ve got confirmation: We’re going into New Edom, and you’re in charge.” It was a bit of an odd feeling; at 5’10” Dascu was a bit on the short side for Jedorians, while Marius was above average at 6’3”, not to mention fitter and (admittedly) more handsome, yet Dascu was the man in charge. Still, in this case charisma would come in handy. Sometimes all that really helped was a friendly smile and a warm embrace.

Dascu put these thoughts aside, focusing on preparing Marius for his job. He gave what information that he had both verbally and in the form of a folder. Inside were dossier reports, whatever news and information that could better prepare the team. Marius read the papers and listened in on what his boss said. New Edom was in a world of pain and hurt; a lot had to be planned if they were going to be effective.

“The volunteers are standing by, but you should confirm your logistic team before heading out.” Dascu finished, giving him an appreciative nod. Marius’s job was not going to be an easy one. Regardless of it’s difficulty, Marius seemed to be on top of it. “Alright,” he said after finishing his examination of the folders contents, “I’ll get a team ready. We should be able to leave in a few days.”
He turned on his heel and headed for the door. Just before exiting, he turned back towards Dascu. “Before I go, just a quick question: Will I have to be naked? I’m not sure the Edomite women will be able to handle…” Marius struck a rather sexy pose, “…This.”

Dascu stifled a laugh. “I’ll be sure to get you a waiver. Sure don’t want you to go around distracting everyone.” Marius gave him a smile and a wave good bye. After leaving the office, he took a left hallway towards the logistics department. The group was mostly made up of intelligent, educated 20 something year olds. They were young, but reliable and adaptable. Marius was on good terms with all of them, and it showed in his attitude and their response.

“All right folks, we’re going to Edom. I want all of you get packed and be here by 5. We’ll be shipping out in a few days. Bring what you think you’ll need, if you’re not sure, ask the internet.” Turning towards one of the female secretaries, he continued, “Ionna, I need you to make sure we have a place to set up shop. Also, I’ll need a list of Edomites that will work with us. Preferably women with large breasts, ya know?”
The women known as Ionna chuckled. “Sure chief, I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re the best!” Marius said, with a pat on her back and a smile. “You’re pressed for time, you only have…” He checked his watch, “…over 72 hours. Well, you got some time.”

He headed out towards the exit. “I’ll see you all at five.”

Once out on the streets of Sykios, Marius went from confident to grim. New Edom, of all places. He didn’t mind the nudity, especially the women. He didn’t mind that he was coming from a society that generally viewed Christians as untrustworthy and malevolent to one where it was the state religion. No, what worried him was lack of raw data. There were hardly a statistic in the folder Dascu had showed him. His own inquiries had yet to come up with any better data. New Edom was still a mess, and that meant not everything would go over smoothly if he stuck to standard methods. Things might have to take a less sanctioned approach.

Marius made his way to a small apartment that he had rented out but hardly ever stayed at. Once inside, he went towards the wall and located a small safe. The dial turned, and once the combination was set, he opened it. Cash, both Jedorian credits and various other currencies were some of the more prominent contents. Alongside were rings, with ruby, emerald, even diamond pieces. Even amongst it was wine, particularly rare and expensive vintages. Although not part of this safe, he also planned to bring in some other forms of ‘medicine.’

This was all for the good of New Edom, he told himself.

by **Nalaya** » Sat Aug 31, 2013 4:45 pm

The Yndhanur's Office
Shavan FOB, New Edom

Siri Kalousdian's tired hands were burning like they were on fire as she scrubbed them down in the sink, lathered up to her elbows with white soap suds. Going in and out of surgery this many times had stripped all the protective oils out of the skin of her hands, leaving them red and in peril of starting to crack. But she was in her olive drab field uniform now rather than scrubs, her cap rolled up and stuffed in her pants' side pocket. She glanced up in the mirror almost as an afterthought.

She barely recognized the face as hers. The dark hair was sloppily tied up and back in a bun, strands escaping to play across skin tanned deeply by the sun or fall in front of dark eyes with a hawkish intensity surrounded by bruise-like circles. She had gone from being slender to gaunt as the weight dropped away to leave hollow cheeks and a form emaciated despite the muscle clinging desperately to life. Her uniform had been taken in several times since she came to New Edom, but discretely. In command, vulnerability was something one couldn't afford to display.

Sometimes she wondered where the feverish energy came from that propelled her relentlessly forward into the death and re-education camps of Bara. It hounded her through sleepless nights, turned her tortured stomach even more when she tried for a meal, leaving her like a woman possessed. She couldn't let it go. Not after Raith Immel. Not when she always felt as though she was never quite enough. The people under her care deserved better. And so she threw herself forward as if she could possibly catch that ever illusive perfection.

"Yndhanur?" a voice said quietly, snapping her out of her little reverie in front of the mirror. It was Kapitan Petrosian. The swarthy Nava'ai man stood in the doorway, another bundle of reports under his arm in a half dozen manila folders.

"On the desk," Siri said with a wave of her hand, crushing her exhaustion down and moving to meet him with a restlessly energetic stride. "Coffee, Kapitan?"

"Please and thank you," he said honestly, face cracking into a smile when she handed him a steaming paper cup full of the dark drink. It wasn't quite the same as back home--a little watery, a little less aromatic--but it was enough to keep a body working. "We're doing better with the refugees. Every day things go a little smoother, though the patrols are always bringing in more people. The hardest part are the intensive needs sections."

Siri nodded a little. He meant the poor souls who had been forced through Anarchist re-education or been trapped in death camps. That was where she was usually working herself, when they didn't need her to push papers back and forth. Fortunately, she could delegate a lot of the processing and correspondence to her attaché. She sat down in the folding chair behind her desk, comfortable in the barren, utilitarian space that held her desk and personal belongings. There was a cot pushed against one wall for her to sleep on, since she never made it to bed and rarely slept for more than a few hours at a time. There was always something else that needed doing.

But the Nalayans had practice at working with refugees. They had resources. They weren't afraid to admit that they could be wrong or that they didn't know things. They kept contact with the locals. And above everything else, they had empathy. Every single soldier in Vahan Division knew from experience that the only thing that could even begin to heal the wounds left by war and human evil was compassion. Siri had personally pounded her message into her soldiers' skulls until they could recite it in their dreams: You are not here to kill. You are here to protect. You are not here to wound. You are here to heal. You are not here to hate passionately. You are here to love unconditionally.

"There's more aid on the way. International stuff," the Kapitan said softly. "I think the Edomi are briefing them now. I hope so, anyway. It will save our breath."

Siri hummed her acknowledgment, looking over the papers he'd brought. They were from the peer support counselors and psychologists trusted to handle the worst of the cases. Treatment plans, requests for medications or accommodations, and progress reports. She had set them a Herculanean task, but so far they had yet to disappoint her. A few cases had been red-flagged as acute, which meant there was either a risk of violence or suicide and took priority as far as obtaining necessary care or treatments. As many minds and hearts were damaged as bodies, if not more.

After a few moments, she looked up. "Now if only we could put a choke collar on the militias," Siri murmured softly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. At least all this business kept her focus miles away from the tattered remnants of her personal life and wellbeing. "This can't be about revenge, Petrosian. Next time a militia passes through or we run into Edomite command, I want you to send them to me. Maybe if I repeat that until my lungs give out, it will sink in."

Sometimes, Siri Kalousdian felt as though she was an immovable object confronted with the irresistable forces of an uncaring world. Someday, something would have to give. But not today.

by **New Edom** » Sat Aug 31, 2013 6:24 pm

Unknown Location, The Triangle

Even though it was noon the sky was dark, turned black by the thick, black smoke of artillery cannons. Destroyed buildings, gutted out by fires and reduced to rubble by the guns, peppered the villages in the part of The Triangle the militia and regulars were fighting in. The platoon Bardo commanded had taken up residence in one of the more preserved buildings, its concrete body protecting them from the enemy’s rockets and mortars, and allowing them to dish out punishment without exposing themselves to danger. Most of the time they were all getting soaked every day or gasping with the heat on the off days, sweat attracting flies and mosquitoes. The most valuable thing apart from food in the units patrolling The Triangle was insect repellant. Days like today, action broke out like a flash flood.

As Bardo crouched near a glass-less window that served as a rifle loop, he ducked instinctively as they heard the sound of a recoilless rifle round howling towards the wall that showered him and Tim Stanon, the war correspondent, in dust, and he shouted over the chatter of machineguns and rifles nearby as the militia resumed fire, “They say in the Fineberg Times that the Anarchists are defeated and the war is over!”

Tim grimaced. “You mustn’t believe everything that is printed in the newspaper; I am not the editor! As far as I’m concerned it’s not over, but there’s no official leadership anymore, so this is ‘mopping up’.”

“Good thing.” Bardo said sardonically. This sort of thing happened all the time lately. You’d go on a routine patrol, and come across a place you knew well—there some band of them would be, and it would turn out that there were only five of them or something. But you couldn’t take chances; you called up the supporting artillery or air force that was tagging along way behind and they would rush in heavy rounds and blow the crap out of the place, then you would go in looking for evidence that you’d gotten them.

And a few hours later it was over, and they were headed to Shavan, because it was closer to Glasstower at the moment. They didn’t need camouflage paint; they were painted with mud, marsh slime, crushed leaves and smoke and powder; they trailed in wearily, singing a Free Congress rallying song they weren’t supposed to be singing anymore. “…New Edom forever, hurrah folks hurrah! Up with the Griffon, and down with the Crown…” It wasn’t so much that they were super-patriots—some of the guys gladly jacked off to Queen Mara’s pictures in “Hi!” magazine—but they didn’t care if she was the Queen as long as General Pahath-Moab was the real boss.

While they were gratefully grabbing some coffee and warm food from the Nalayans, and while Bardo was reporting the action first to Siri Kalousdian's staff and then asking for a dry spot to type out a report on the field laptop to send to the Congressional Militia Legion HQ in Glasstower, Tim Stanton tried to see Petrosian, and said quietly, “Hey, Kapitan—I have a hypothetical for you if you’ve got a moment. Supposing someone heard something—like nothing solid but just something that got him thinking. Supposing he heard two officers talking, and one of them said that it was weird that he was supposed to have been getting convoys of prisoners from a hypothetical military unit, but that he had never gotten any, and that there was either a mistake or something fish—and that it had happened several times about prisoners—what should a guy do about that?”

by **Hittanryan** » Sun Sep 01, 2013 12:39 pm

Ministry of Health

"Yes, Edomite security forces would be ideal in this situation, I think, both for camp and convoy security. Between their experience fighting the syndicalists and familiarity with Baran customs and culture, I would think they would know better than anyone how to deal with some of the challenges we might face," Moreau agreed. "The State Department requested I inform you of an additional security measure: drones. The military has said if it had a bit more coordination with your forces, Admiral Henriksen could arrange for Adiran UAVs to shadow aid convoys, apparently without scaling back any of their other activities. They thought it could be of use in tracking raiders back to wherever they're operating from and directing responses."

Moreau paused, trying to phrase everything right. This was not his area of expertise, but here he had been asked to relay details that he wasn't entirely comfortable with. How would they react? "Apparently, it would also be possible to direct precision airstrikes on those who attempt to raid convoys, though the Foundation demands that any such strikes only take place in unpopulated areas. Presumably certain areas would be designated accordingly."

Checking his notes, Moreau grew worried he wasn't giving them an accurate picture. Deciding to level with the Edomites, he clarified, "I confess, however, that I am not a military man, so I don't know how that would work, nor can I claim to know enough about New Edom to determine if drone strikes of any sort would be counterproductive to our aims. The idea is apparently to secure our access routes by discouraging bandits and anarchist holdouts from moving in the open countryside. If security threats are found primarily in densely-populated areas or if drone strikes would bolster local support for the anarchists in some way, however, then we might as well scrap that idea entirely."

by **New Edom** » Sun Sep 01, 2013 1:00 pm

The Ministry of Health

"I am not a military man either," said Dr. Martin, "And though I'm broadly familiar with such terms, I think that this would need coordination between the Admiral and our Ministry of Defense. If you like, I could arrange for a meeting with the Undersecretary or the Chiefs of Staff to happen with the Admiral so that that could be coordinated. Would that be satisfatory? You could also meet with the Undersecretary today, she had advised me she would be available when I spoke to her this morning at the Cabinet Meeting."

There was a buzz on his phone; it was a reminder from Paul Gath, the Undersecretary, that there was a meeting in ten minutes with some of the department heads he had to be at to discuss an outbreak of e-coli in one of the hospitals in Harbourtown. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Moreau, but I'm afraid I've got to call this meeting to an end right now--Dr. Ballard can continue to discuss matters with you...."

"Yes, I can take you to lunch if you'd like, Mr. Moreau." Dr. Ballard said in a friendly way.

by **Late Roman Empire** » Sun Sep 01, 2013 6:42 pm

Fineberg, New Edom, en route to Glasstower

Lucilla Antonia, the new Roman Imperial Relief Officer, head of the Roman state relief mission, arrived in Fineberg with the first 300 volunteers, as the first phase of her journey to Glasstower to relieve the suffering of the poor, homeless, and the malnourished. She missed Titus, but she knew that her mission was for the greater good of the Empire, and, well, he would probably find excuses to visit now and then.

She understood now how Felicia Galeria felt, when she started the relief mission in Fineberg, which continued to this day. Felicia missed Count Marcian constantly, she had heard, so much that they reportedly died in each others' arms when the Damocleans struck the city with their Learjet suicide bombing. Not being a romantic sap, Lucilla only thought that at least they died happy, nothing sentimental or mushy about it. Too much romanticism, in spite of the name, wasn't exactly a Roman vice.

We are far too sensible for that emotional psychobabble. We think of love in practical terms.

Her first visit was to the Roman Legate, Count Marcellinus, and his wife Basilina, after which she presented herself at the Edomite Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Then she would inspect the Fineberg mission, locate her room, and check out the new Forum Idumaeum.

The meeting with the Count and his wife was brief, mostly because she had the impression that she had interrupted a little late morning matinee....a bit awkward, so she naturally cut it short. A proper Roman knew to give a man and his woman, whether wife, concubine, or mistress, some privacy. Those things were best kept to the couple in question. One didn't intrude, and Lucilla was brought up well enough to understand that.

Inevitably, she found herself arriving at the Foreign Ministry, ready to meet with the appropriate representatives of the Council of Ministers. It was only sensible that the Foreign Minister be consulted, after all, since foreign guests were his purview. It was time to see what the Edomite leaders were up to these days and who she could trust.

by **New Edom** » Sun Sep 01, 2013 9:31 pm

The Foreign Ministry, Fineberg, New Edom

Benjamin Kent had a grin on his face as he read the paper. Who would have thought that the new boy Diatrymas would have done so well? Why, it was like the story of New Edom itself.

He ran over that phrase in his mind, and decided to get his press officer to help him carve that into something choice. He read the article over again with relish, sipping his mint tea.

1 COPPER

THE FINEBERG TIMES

CITY FINAL TUESDAY AUGUST 28, 2013

Diatrymas Hard Run to Win!

by Annabelle Barca

KOROPAI FIELD, Wakita, Makhlohi Vai: On Matchday 11, the Diatrymas came screaming back to lead 6-5 in one of the toughest games they have fought in the WBC.

Romulus Gordius pitched a no-hit second inning, his first, and seemed to be keen as mustard, with all positions in ready support of him. Gregor Serilla sent two home with a hard slam left in the second, followed by a single run by Joseph Bovee in the third.

Julian Paulucci hit a homer in the 7th to bring three home, but shortly after that in their 8th the Antithesis dug in and got 2 home in two successive innings—close but not close enough. However this team has shown a lot of good plays and were expected to be stiff competition; their blitz in the previous game has the two teams 1-1 and we are all looking forward to the tie break.

A rather tired looking Levi Dathan had briefed him on the situation with the TECT colonial economic conference. The colonial government and New Edom had had increasing tensions since the Gavinium Magnus affair, and now had publicly called a conference that New Edom’s government hadn’t been invited to. There had been embarrassed suggestions from the Roman embassy that they had already been invited. The General wouldn’t be pleased at all. Dathan had also worked on his schedule, and then had announced that he had some legal matters to attend to, which Kent soothingly said he would be glad to give him a brief leave of absence to deal with.

Should he feel guilty about feeding information to Dinah Dathan’s lawyer? With government in the offing? Hardly! Kent looked up from his newspaper.

Elizabeth Corbulo had knocked and entered at his instruction. “Minister, the Imperial Relief Officer is here for her meeting.”

“Ah! Show her in!”

The pretty young Leck did so. Benjamin Kent rose and gave a bow, and offered the requisite refreshments, compliments to His Imperial Majesty, inquiries after his health, her health, and her journey. “I am very pleased to meet you, I hope that your stay here will be mutually fruitful. I’ve been informed,” he said, “That you intend to go to Glasstower. Is this true? I thought that your duties would, like your predecessor, keep you here in Fineberg.”

by **Nalaya** » Mon Sep 02, 2013 1:29 am

Shavan FOB

Kapitan Petrosian was more than happy to stop and talk to Tim Stanton. He didn't really know the reporter on a personal level, but the man had gone into the fire with Arakelyan's squad plenty of times which meant he at least had a damn sturdy spine. As he listened to the hypothetical scenario, however, the Nalayan officer's right eyebrow began to slowly and steadily rise towards his hairline. "A situation like that? I would say that such a man should bring it to the attention of a senior officer, perhaps even the Yndhanur herself depending on who was involved," he said, hoping against hope that this was an entirely fictitious supposition. Experience, however, had taught Petrosian that such things were usually founded entirely too much in reality.

It sounded like something that had quite a lot of possibility to be unpleasant. Prisoners going missing, whether an escape or something more sinister, was a definite problem that needed to be rectified immediately. And likely it would fall to Petrosian to handle it, with the approval of Yndhanur Kalousdian.

Petrosian didn't bother to try and hide his clear concern, still clutching his coffee in its white paper cup. Every soldier in Vahan Division looked like they belonged in an AA meeting, as if furiously clinging to their coffee because they had given up all of their other vices. Which was in part true, though some soldiers still smoked. It was a generational thing: the young ones didn't, ever wary of lung cancer, but the older officers and NCOs had long ago assumed that they would die in war, so why bother?

A short ways away, one of the leytenants was helping Bardo secure an out of the way spot to type his report without being tripped over by the seemingly ceaseless flow of human beings in and out of every corridor in the building. The Nalayan soldiers had done their best to be as friendly and supportive as possible with their Edomite allies, even though the strain of the situation could wear on tempers and stretch people thin.

Warlords of Bara II (Closed, Please TG for Entry)

Warlords of Bara II (Closed, Please TG for Entry)

Sacred Palace, Constantinople.

Lucilla Antonia arrives in Fineberg.

Who is online