Cause for War (IC, CLOSED, ATTN: Tyrrhenia)

by **Mediciano** » Wed Feb 05, 2014 2:43 pm

In bello, parvis momentis magni casus intercedunt.
In war, great events are the results of trivial causes.
-Gaius Julius Caesar

The Imperial Press Room
Castelmare, Mediciano

The press minister looked out over the small group of reporters crowded into the sparsely decorated room, pointing to one of the many raised hands.

"Julia Calabro, from the Sole Mediciano," she said, introducing herself. Aside from a few aides, she was the only woman in the room, the single exception to the usually patriarchal Medician society. "My question is this: who exactly will the new bases be open to? Is there any sort of limitation on which nations can utilize these ports?"

The press minister shook his head, "We will not be discriminating on purely ideological grounds, if that is what you're asking. Obviously, it would depend on the applicant nation's stability, as well as what advantages their presence in Tyrrhenia could confer to Mediciano. After all, no one wants to see a Bulgislavian influence in Waldenburg." Most of the press corps laughed, the Bulgislavians being a bit of a running joke with the Medician government. Almost every time they needed to provide an example of abject failure, it was Bulgislavia that bore the brunt of their insults. "But yes, as I said," the press minister continued, "we won't be discriminating on ideological grounds."

By "ideological grounds", of course, everyone knew he was referring to the democratic superpowers of Pardes and Greater Dienstad. Normally, the Medician government would be entirely closed to any negotiations with these "human rights imperialists," but the presence of a nation like Lamoni or Emmeria would bring with it a noticeable increase in Medician security. Even the greatest Tyrrhenian powers would hesitate before invoking their wrath.

"Does the government have any plans to give preferential treatment to Tyrrhenian governments vying for the new bases?" another reporter asked.

"Please raise your hand next time, this isn't a People's Convergence," the press minister replied, drawing another chuckle from the reporters. "As to your question, again my answer is no. The government will decide who to award this naval base to based solely on their stability and the added security that they will offer to our nation and maritime borders. We'd be happy with a Tyrrhenian nation, but we won't be giving them any greater consideration than we are to extra-regional powers." Off of the stage, the minister's aid tapped his watch. "Now, unless there are any further questions that can't be answered by other means, we're going to have to end this press conference. Thank you all for coming."

The reporters got up, many still scribbling down notes, and made their way to the doorway. Julia followed the group, tapping off a quick text to her editor to let him know the meeting was over. She grabbed a cup of coffee and a strawberry from the buffet table and quickly rushed out of the ministry and into the frigid Medician air.

The Ministry for Foreign Affairs
Castelmare, Mediciano

General Suvorov sat down, somewhat frustrated by these weekly meetings that the Foreign Affairs Minister insisted on. The room was wooden paneled, and outside the window he saw a platoon of Imperial Guardsmen practicing drills in the square. Across the heavy oak table from him sat the minister himself, Marco Corvani. "General," he said, addressing Suvorov with a smile, "How are you?"

"Busy," Suvorov replied, with some hostility.

"I can imagine," the minister pressed on, unperturbed or unaware of the dislike conveyed by the general's stare, "what with this new naval base and all. Believe it or not, that's become quite the issue around here." Suvorov believed it, the naval base was becoming an issue for everyone. "You see, it is my opinion that we may have been slightly premature in opening the base to foreign militaries. Several other ministers agree, and we think that there should have been more coordination with the other governments nearby."

"And which ones exactly?" Suvorov asked. "Should we have asked the Ascelonians for permission? Or perhaps demanded it from the jews in Ralkovia? I don't know what the Inquisition would have said about that."

"Well, of course not permission," the minister said, "But we should have at least notified them before the press conference. A Lamonian naval base could be quite controversial among our more skittish neighbors."

"We don't know that the base will be awarded to Lamoni, they haven't even put in an offer yet," Suvorov said. It was, of course, true that the government was hoping for some sort of offer from the Greater Dienstad region, as Lamoni would make a powerful friend, if not ally.

"Well yes, but regardless of whether it is Lamoni or Emmeria or the Germans, a foreign naval base in this area could have massive diplomatic repercussions. We could be locked out of all Mednordic trade deals and economic negotiations for years! We'd still have our friends in Waldenburg, of course, but you know as well as I that those relationships are eroding."

"They are not yet eroded fully, and our economic treaties in Waldenburg will keep us afloat even if all of Mednordia was closed to Medician businesses. But that, of course, is a worst case scenario. After all, can you see the jews rejecting our investment and business? Or Ascelonia or Censory? We are a major trade power and they won't abandon us simply because they're upset at the introduction of a foreign military to the region."

"You are far more confident than I, General," Corvani said resignedly, "and I see that your mind can't be changed. I'll have to speak with the ambassador's, though, to inform our neighbors immediately. We don't want them thinking this was a decision made entirely without informing them."

Suvorov rolled his eyes. "You're overreacting, minister, and we will not go crawling to them for permission. Inform the foreign governments if you'd like, but make sure to stress that their input is not desired or needed. This is a Medician decision to be made by Mediciano. Now I have somewhere to be." Suvorov got up and walked out the door, frustrated by the foreign minister's weak political constitution. Diplomatic repercussions, he thought sarcastically, God forbid.

by **Ralkovia** » Wed Feb 05, 2014 3:53 pm

"You know that stuff will kill you," Oskar said, watching the older Noblemen cram another dab of chewing tobacco into his mouth. Both ignoring the ever dutiful servant moving closer to bring the spitting container for the Master.

"It's far more certain I'll die fucking one of the beasts, then I will from the 'taki'," he said referring to the naked servant girls that walked through the home.

"Really? I can read the title of the Ralkovian Post now, 'Master Admiral Ravak cut down in glorious fucking.' Your epitaph, 'He was neither a good father nor a decent husband, but he fucked a whole lot of filth and chewed enough 'taki' for 10 men,'" Oskar retorted, playfully teasing the older man, before receiving a fatal look.

"Aye. Where is that boy now anyway?," the old man said referring to his son, before grasping at his servant girl to come sit on his lap. She bowed in thanks for the attention and want of her Master, and put herself gently on his lap. Her golden skin and blond hair revealed she was of Kemetaran descent, one of the older additions to the Empire. They were considered some of the most beautiful, and therefore expensive slaves in the Ralkovian Empire, selling usually at 500k to 1m Golden Standards.

"You mean Jarv? Your son? Your heir?" Oskar said, his tone changing to one of slight anger, at the casual tone the Master Admiral said, not even calling his own son by his name.

"Damn man, yes Jarv! where is he?" Ravak responded raising his own voice, the slave girl having a look of fright now plastered on her face.

"He just returned from combat in Cromlily, led the charge towards the Capital, served with great honor. He's back in Raskovia, if you want to visit him," Oskar said, returning to his pleasant tone, taking pleasure in being able to upset the man.

"Dammit Oskar. You're gonna be the one to kill me," he retorted, putting his hand over his heart and hearing the audible increase.

"Well, then we can finally put someone younger and a lot handsomer than you as Naval Director," the young man joked.

"So then, if you're done guilting me about my child, I assume you have actual business here, and that you didn't just leave the Foreign Affairs Ministry to pay me a visit?" Ravak said in inquiry.

"Of course, what if I told you that Ralkovia might have to break the Good Neighbor policy?" Oskar said, a smirk breaking his lips, revealing sharpened teeth of a wolf.

"I'd say you'd be insane..."

To our friends in Mediciano,

While Ralkovia does not normally interfere in the affairs of our neighbors, especially with long established friends such as the people of Mediciano, we are quite concerned about the opening for rent of several military bases in your nation. As we both know, Ralkovia has a long list of competitors and enemies who threaten Ralkovia with war. However, the allowance of such belligerent forces a base within striking distance of Ralkovia is an unthinkable prospect and something that Ralkovia will not permit.

We hope that this is understandable to the government of Mediciano. We would make the quite reasonable request then of having the right to accept or deny the final sale of these bases to any foreign power.

Sincerely,
Vice Minister Oskar Varatrax

by **Mediciano** » Wed Feb 05, 2014 8:26 pm

La Seconda Cappella
The Holy Offices of the Medician Inquisition
Belvedere, Mediciano

"Sia lode a Dio, il cui sacrificio salvato l'umanità. Lode a Gesù Cristo, che ha guidato i Mediciani dal loro paese di origine per trovare il paradiso oltre. Ricorda, in tempi di oscurità, che Dio condanna coloro che rompono la sua alleanza. E che io, come un servo di Dio, deve essere l'esecutore della sua volontà, e la manifestazione della sua ira. Amen. Dio benedica l'Inquisizione." The chanted prayer enveloped Niccolo as he strode through the rightmost aisle of the underground chapel. At the base of the bema, a group of twelve new Inquisitors said their prayers. They each wore white uniforms slashed with red, while the cardinal leading them in prayer wore a black cassock with a red pellegrina.

Niccolo wore black, the color of a senior inquisitor. It had been particularly fitting in his old job, when he had been the administrator for the 129e Auto-da-fé. Now, though, he was Chief of the Inquisition Abroad, an especially dull role when one considers that the Inquisition had no role abroad. It was punishment, he knew, for upsetting the General during the coup. He had expressed his loyalty to the emperor, as a faithful subject was wont to do, and had been reassigned because of it. Now, as he walked around the base for his daily exercise, he would have given anything to be back in the government's good graces. Perhaps then he'd be out in the field chasing heretics or enforcing the Canon.

Niccolo made his way back via the other aisle, having looped around the altar, and exited the chapel. The chants slowly faded away behind him as he walked lazily to his office. Oddly enough, and certainly unexpectedly, the door was open when he arrived. Niccolo walked in and stared at the man sitting in front of his desk.

"Signore Barberini," the man said, standing and shaking Niccolo's hand. "It's wonderful to meet you. My name is Ludovico Matrigglia, I am your new Segretario."

Niccolo was confused. Secretaries in the Inquisition were charged with overseeing a staff, which the Office of the Inquisition Abroad had a distinct lack of.

"I see," Niccolo replied, furrowing his brow. "Your job will be an easy one, I'll tell you that. You see, we have no staff here, and I have no need for a segretario."

Ludovico shook his head, "No, signore, that is why I am here. I was instructed by the Grand Inquisitor per servum to inform you that, as of today, you do have a staff. A considerable one too, I might add." Niccolo was shocked. "You also, as I'm sure you'll be happy to hear, have a new office. Primera Cappella, very posh."

This was a lot to take in, even for someone like Niccolo. The Primera Cappella was usually only for Administrative offices and those deemed to be of 'unusual value' by the Inquisition. "May I ask what circumstances have merited this change?"

Ludovico looked surprised. "Have they told you nothing? The Inquisition wants to restart the hunt for heretics overseas. You're office has been reassigned to the Warfare Inquisition. It's from the top, Suvorov or the Emperor, I'd think."

"It must be the Emperor," Niccolo said, "I don't think Suvorov considers me chief among his allies. Either way, let's be off. I'd like to see daylight again, even if it's through an office window." They both made their way out and to the elevator.

The Ministry for Foreign Affairs
Castelmare, Mediciano

The general pressed his hand to his forehead, trying to make the laughter subside. Across the table from him, Corvani had a clearly different reaction. "General, this is no laughing matter. I warned you that this might happen, and now it has. The Ralkovians are notoriously skittish about these things and..."

"Minister, please. You can't really be worried about these jewish mongrels? They're savages, pure and simple. What puts them in a position to demand that we ask their permission when choosing who to award the base to?"

"Well, for one, there's the fact that they're a military superpower with territories around the world and we're a small neighbouring island with an army composed of a mere hundred or two hundred thousand soldiers! I'm telling you, this is no laughing matter. When the Vice Minister said they don't usually get involved in their neighbor's affairs he meant it. They don't, and when they do, it should be taken as a sign of possible military action on their part." The minister was clearly perturbed at what he interpreted as Suvorov's misguided underestimation of the Ralkovian government.

In reality, the general was just as aware as anyone else of the severity of the situation. But he'd be damned if he'd let heretics interfere with the course of his nation. "Write them a reply refusing their demands immediately. I won't have it said that this new government bends to the will of Raskov and his horde of ebrei. Be diplomatic of course, but make it clear we won't budge in our opinion."

"As you say general," Corvani replied, resigning himself to an argument lost. Though let it be on your head, he thought as Suvorov left.

To the Estimable Signore Vice Minister Oskar Varatrax,
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Headquarters of the Ministry, Imperial Palace
Center of Ministri Palace of the Emperor Grell

I write you now on behalf of the Emperor of Mediciano and his government, to inform you that we must deny your government's request. The request I refer to has been rejected for several reasons. First and foremost is the fact that your nation has no right, legal or moral, to interfere in the affairs of a sovereign entity such as our own. To do so would be in violation of international law, and would be an unacceptable affront to the reputation of the Medician government.

Secondly, we fail to see the reason behind this supposedly "reasonable request." It strikes myself and my office as a statement of a great sense of entitlement that your government would make such a demand. There is no reason, unless your nation harbors some intense dislike or distrust of Mediciano, why that request should even have been transmitted. We can, I assure you, be trusted to act in our own best interests, as I believe we are doing here.

If your government has any strong thoughts after the base's occupying nation has been announced, I would like to encourage you to send them, but also to understand that they will not alter the opinion of the Imperial government.

Sincerely,
Marco Corvani, Minister for Foreign Affairs and Faithful Adherent to the One True Church

by **Ralkovia** » Fri Feb 07, 2014 1:05 am

"Nanners, bring my coat, the good one, the black one with the gold thread. The one that Scandinvan Prince gave me!" Oskar said waiting outside the doorstep of his Manor. Though remodeled, it was still a magnificent place of stone and wood, just as it was when it had first been built by his family, the prestigious Clan Skara, in 1517 on land granted to them by their High Master, the Clan Raskov.

The slave came running down the Mahogany stairs, carrying between his two arms a wonderful looking coat, handcrafted by one of the finest tailors in the Scandinvan Empire. It was also Oskar's favorite, keeping him especially warm in the freezing cold that the city of Raskovia experienced every winter. He had been a Southern boy, born right outside of Hrear in the Colony of Chrai, as his Father had been chosen to govern that warm and temperate island. He lived far from the cold for most of his childhood, growing up on a sugar plantation. He had been sent to the Imperial Academy at age fifteen, just in time for the dreadfullest winter in the history of the city. Temperatures had reached -3067RR(-41.3 F). He remembered the inhuman way the denizens of Raskovia bundled themselves up and went about their business, like the cold was not only absent, but simply didn't exist.

He had dragged with him his favorite slave, a large Afrikan, he had allowed to purchase when he was seven. Like Oskar, Nanner's had spent his entire life in the tropical heat. Just five years Oskar's senior, Nanners was a faithful servant, though a mixed breed, born to a slave mother and a Balkovian Father. A mistake that would have cost him his life with the recently passed ban on interracial breeding, however Oskar had saved him, appealing to the Emperor himself and the loyalty of the Skara Clan that had performed services for the Raskov family for almost four millenia.

In truth, Oskar loved Nanner's like a brother and afforded him nearly all the freedoms of a Ralkovian. He had allowed Nanner's his choice of a wife and had permitted the Children to be free born and educated in the colonies, where ethnicity, race, religion, and mattered very little, in fact he had even heard word that some colonies had permitted interracial marriages.

And Nanner's dutifully performed for his Master. Finally handing Oskar his coat and following him to short walk across the garden and to the car. Oskar's hand slid into his pocket, pulling from it one of those colonial made 'lollipops.' A gift from Chrai Candy Corporation, a close business partner, which bought from him tens of thousands of pounds of sugar a year. He carefully unwrapped the gold colored tinsel from the thing, before unceremoniously plunging the lollipop into his mouth. The taste of hot cinnamon filled it, comforting him a little with the heat. He removed it from his mouth, and wielding it like a sword, he held it forward beating back the cold winter winds that seemed to creep around him like hungry wolves.

"A little to spicy for my taste," he said, handing his weapon to Nanners, who wrapped the thing in a small tissue before depositing it into his front pocket, before digging into another pocket and presenting Oskar with one entitled "Root Beer Float."

"My Lord, if we are heading to the city, should I inform the family?" Nanners asked, his voice always in its very serious tone.

"We'll be heading to the Imperial Palace, Drako is having a meeting without me, and we can't have him popping around when the High Minister and Vice Minister are away, he might declare war on Lamoni," Oskar replied, looking towards the dying garden with detest evident on his face. More so because of the wilting greenery that he had spent weeks planting with his daughter, then because of Drako's behavior.

"Make a man a Ward Minister and he suddenly think's he owns the place," Oskar added, watching a small smile break on Nanners usually solemn face.

Nanners picked his step up, opening the door to the car for the Lord, before entering himself into the passenger seat across from him and tapping on the window that separated the passenger compartment from the drivers. The car took off out of the five thousand acre estate.

It would be a two hour drive to the Imperial Palace, taking the Government road allowed them to cut right under the city of one hundred million people. It was very much a super road that ran under the city of Raskovia, an underground city linking the metropolis, full of secrets. Oskar watched the tens of thousands of tanks and weapons that simply waited. Underground bunkers painted in red light, kept saved for the day that Ralkovia might need them.

Of course, this was just the least secret part of the road, it's passages connected to leadership bunkers and nuclear power generators and all sorts of other vulnerable systems kept protected by the masses above. Some of the tunnel lines extended five or six kilometers underground, built into natural caves in the Earth, below the Raskom Mountains.

The Grand Ralkovian Empire was vast, but these tunnels could easily have been considered a comparison, ten thousand kilometers of passages ran under the city, and two outer tunnels, cut by slaves and machines went as far north as Hadii Voxshii and as far south as Razmaki. The tunnel ended within the confines of the Imperial Palace, a complex of nearly two hundred Palaces, built by each successive generation of Emperor. Most of the old ones remained empty, the newer ones now served as a type of headquarters for the ministries of government. All in an easy and secure centralized environment. A miniature city.

It was at his arrival at the Imperial Palace that he saw the peculiar sight. A strange parade of Death Guard all dressed in white. A procession that odd, in that the Death Guard never wore white, with exception to serving in winter combat arrangements. White to them was a bad color, bringing nothing but misfortune and unluckiness. However, here they were dressed for combat.

In fact, he spied several other things he considered odd, the grounds remained snow free, despite the torrential snow that had arrived early this morning. It was also remarkably green, with roses blooming. The Imperial Garden remained beautifully alive in the freezing winter.

The freezing winter that seemed unusually warm... he thought to himself in bewilderment, before looking up and spotting the massive white sky was in fact a giant plastic container.

"The Emperor had it constructed two days ago, keep the cold out," a man said, tipping his hat to Oskar.

"Lord Minister Ravvard, how are you doing today?" Oskar responded, identifying the man, the High Minister of War, and Clan Leader of the High Clan Ravvard, one of the original forty-nine clans that settled Ralkovia.

"Good. We've just finished tidying off invasion plans for Mediciano, we've been waiting for the response you received...what's with the nigger slave?," Skarthrow Ravvard answered, pausing only for a second as his attention turned towards the Afrikan standing beside Oskar.

"My personal servant. Ever dutiful and loyal. Nanners," Oskar said, turning his head towards his slave, and nodding.

"Yes sir. I am the humble aide of his Majesties loyal servant. I give you greetings My Lord," Nanners said, bowing politely.

"Very well then. I must speak to your Master alone. Go into the car," the High Lord ordered, turning to face Oskar, and beckoning him with a hand.

Oskar walked forward, grabbing the hand of the High Lord and carrying it hand in hand they walked towards the large black box that stood alone in the center of the vast garden.

"Well unfortunately the government of Mediciano intend to be difficult," Oskar said, watching Skarthrow's face carefully.

The man's lips curved in a wicked smile, and his eyes glowed like a vulture coming across a fresh feast. Skarthrow only let this expression remain on his face for a moment, almost enjoying the shiver that coursed across his body.

"Well then...I guess that we'll be the first administration to break the Good Neighbor Policy," Skarthrow said, turning to face the examining gaze of the young Vice Minister.

"You ever realize that instead of spending money improving infrastructure and helping our citizens, we waste trillions on war that inevitably only goes to expand an Empire that provides little or no actual value and that we have no means of actually controlling besides the threat of destruction?," Oskar asked, staring back at the High Minister.

"Of course, and in focusing on waging a constant war we not only cause a moral decay in our citizenry, but we risk the lives of our people to defend as well as promote expansion of slavery, an institution that provides our nation with no real benefit, other than a revenue source that we just end up using to support our war-making abilities. In fact, I cry myself to sleep every night with the guilt of knowing that as High Minister of War I am personally responsible for destroying millions upon millions of beautiful human lives; often I can see their tearful innocent faces screaming when I close my eyes," Skarthrow responded back, without a second look at Oskar.

There was a momentary silence, before both men began to suffer a fit of hysterical laughter.

"I knew you were speaking bullshit when you said 'beautiful human lives,'" Vice Minister Skara said, recovering slowly and wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well you were so full of bullshit with the 'improving infrastructure' that I almost choked on my own tongue," Skarthrow Ravvard retorted, his tongue sticking out mockingly.

There would be no show of force, there would be no warning. Ralkovia made its preparation for war silently. Fourth fleet would return from Scarboro, with it an entire army blooded in the battles in the front. The Thirtieth Fleet would return from Bordenia, an entire legion of Death Guard ready fresh from the training grounds. Twenty-fourth fleet would also leave from across the Ocean in Ralkovian colony of Masada in the fallen region of Judea, carrying with it some fifty thousand soldiers.

All preparations were done in quiet, not a peep from Ralkovian High Command, though all were outfitted for War. And in Raskovia, the heart of the Empire, the Greatest City on Earth, the tanks streamed in their underground roads, driving forward to the harbors and ports of the Great Metropolis.

Four fleets would come, North, East, South, and West. The full force of the Empire come to wreak havoc.

However, Ralkovia was weary of breaking the Good Neighbor Policy. It had been an unsaid rule in Ralkovia for almost four centuries. No matter the opportunities Ralkovia would have had in nations like Bulgislavia or Stolingrad or Mykola, Ralkovia remained unmoved. All for a certain fear in their hearts of plunging the homeland into war. Ralkovia had not had a foreign power ever land itself on Ralkovian soil, and had fought viciously at every corner whenever an enemy had come close.

Ralkovia had let the insolent nation of Lamoni get strong, it had let that once weak nation steal the Adiuvo Islands from it, and it had made the mistake of allowing it to keep them. And it had only been recent that the forces of another attempted to use the Adiuvo Islands as a launching point to attack Ralkovia. The Great Empire had been castrated in its response for fear of dragging the Lamonians into the war, however after the near attack and loss of important Ralkovian naval assets, a new doctrine came about. The Alistrair Doctrine. Hostile foreign assets would not have a stepping stone in the region. The region would be contained. The guarantee would be that any Tyrrhenian power, be they large or small, would face immediate repercussions for allowing an enemy of the Empire onto their soil.

And Mediciano would face the entire force of the Alistrair Doctrine.

by **Mediciano** » Thu Feb 13, 2014 12:43 am

ONI Headquarters
NAVSTA-Arc
Arcadia, Mediciano

"Sir, DONR is reporting substantial Ralkovian fleet movements in the west. MME has received three complaints from commercial vessels who say that they felt threatened by the heavy military presence." The Intelligence specialist followed Admiral del Mare, waiting for a response.

The admiral thought for a moment before stopping and turning to the IS. "Find out what diplomatic code we're encouraged to proceed with and we'll start developing a response from there." The IS nodded and walked away.

"You there," the admiral shouted, hailing one of the chief satellite officers, "See if we have any satellites currently west of the Mediciano mainland."

The officer nodded and peered at the glowing map on his screen. "Yessir," he said, "Hangeul-0 can be in position in about three hours, or we could wait for Babel-3 to reach an acceptable angle in about thirty."

The admiral, a tall, dark-skinned man, nodded. "How are the optics on Hangeul-0?"

"Dated, sir. We replaced them seven years ago, but they were low-priority and low-cost. Babel has the full optics suite," the officer responded, pulling the maintenance and hardware information up on his monitor.

"Alright, we'll wait for Babel. Can you get me a report on who's up there at the moment?" del Mare asked, although, given his rank, it was more of an order.

"Yes sir, it'll be just a second while I get the information gathered."

Indeed, a moment later, del Mare strode into his office with three dossiers packed neatly into manilla envelopes. He pulled out the first one, titled "Marco Sanseri, Mag, AF." He read through the first document, getting a sense of the man. When he had done that, he read through the files of "Luca Parmigianino, Capp, Navy," and "Vittorio Roberti, CI, Inq."

My God, del Mare thought jokingly, they even have inquisitors in space. Still, they all seemed trustworthy to him, and their security clearances suggested that the CCC had the same opinion. He put the dossiers aside and opened up a new memo on his monitor:

Ralkovia: DC-YELLOW-has not issued response or affirmation to diplomatic missive. Missive had semi-hostile tone, see Draft-DCRALK10099 in Archives. The MOFA and MOD request that military movements in the vicinity of Mediciano be treated with passive suspicion and observed closely. No active acts of distrust or hostility are permitted.

Well, he thought, isn't that dandy. I wonder if moving military surveillance satellites over their territorial waters counts as an act of distrust? After deciding that it wasn't, the admiral closed the memo and leaned back in his seat. The job was one of constant worry, and it weighed greatly on him. It seemed daily that he made decisions that one would think required the oversight of a higher authority. Unfortunately, or, perhaps, very fortunately, the politicians of the mainland were content to stay there, playing their games of deceit and mired in their own corruption. Every now and then, with some prompting from the AGO, a senator would journey to Arcadia and listen to one of the admirals' reassurances, leaving with slightly renewed confidence in the armed forces and an unoriginal but enthusiastic plan to increase the Navy's budget.

Still, the whole operation was much smoother without interference from the capital. Without their involvement, the only force that truly held sway on the base was the Inquisition. It seemed that every third man he met was an Inquisitor these days, although that wasn't necessarily for the worst. Their influence had led to a more homogenized, efficient military, not to mention a Christian one. That alone made public relations a breeze, after all, who could help but support Mediciano's brave crusaders? The operation was not without stress for those in the captain's seat, as the admiral reflected. He leaned back in his seat, mentally preparing himself for whatever the next trial would be, ever unable to trust the judgment of others on these matters of import.

The Imperial Palace
Castelmare, Mediciano

"Thank you for coming, Signore, I know how busy your schedule must be."

Niccolo bowed to the emperor, smiling. "Yes, your Majesty, I imagine you would. I daresay the other Inquisitors turned rather green when I got an invitation from the Chief Presbyter himself. In fact, I'd say I turned something of the same color as well. Why is it that you've called me here?"

The Emperor, whose years numbered only slightly less than Niccolo's laughed, "Are social calls so unheard of? Our two families have a history of good relations, is it outrageous that I seek to strengthen the ties between Barberini and Valeria?"

"Well, no, your Majesty, but I should think that such an invitation could have waited till I was nearer to the capital. A trip from Belvedere is no small affair."

"Yes, yes, I suppose you're right. And in fact, I do have a reason for calling you here. You are, no doubt, aware of the somewhat icy relations that have developed between Mediciano and her overseas peers? My reports have read most depressingly. Prussia, Belhavia, all the old allies, gone in a flash. And with these new threats to the West..."

"Threats, sir? Are you referring to Ralkovia? My men have expressed some of the same concerns but I assure you they are perfectly docile neighbors. They'd need a truly outstanding motive to get involve..."

"Thank you for the reassurances, but I mean West in the political or cultural sense."

"Ah, the Western democracies, your Majesty," Niccolo realized, somewhat disappointed by his own slow uptake.

"Well yes," the Emperor replied, his brow furrowed. "What concerns, exactly, have your men expressed about Ralkovia? I haven't gotten anything but a passing mention of them in the reports."

This was thin ice, Niccolo knew. In theory, the Emperor was the chief military officer and all Medicians were his loyal subjects, but in practice there was a great deal of information that the CCC kept from him. If Suvorov were to hear of some errant Inquisitor whispering state secrets into the emperor's ear, well, that Inquisitor could expect a sharp drop, hopefully in rank, but possibly at the end of a rope.

"Oh, just the usual stuff that you'd expect. Given that they're a Jewish nation, their friendliness is always somewhat in doubt..."

"Ah, antisemitism, then. Well, good on you for rising above it all. I've been trying to stop such racist attitudes in court here, and I must've held some hope that it'd spread to the outside world. No luck, I suppose?"

"Not the best, your Majesty," Niccolo said with a good-humored grin.

"Ah, very well then. I say, this meeting has been rather disappointing. I had hoped for some good news, ah, but that's not your fault. Stay and have tea. I have another thing to ask of you." He placed a small box on the table, "I wondered if you might deliver this to your sister? A courier won't do, given how rumors spread around here and I trust you, given our families' history."

"May I ask what it is, your Majesty?" Niccolo asked, slightly worried. Is he courting her? he wondered. He hadn't seen his sister in months, and anything was possible given her pedigree. He would have been just as eligible a bachelor among the court-ladies had he not become an Inquisitor, and his family's hopes had been transferred to his sister upon his career choice.

"No, actually, I'd prefer you didn't," the Emperor replied enigmatically. It was now that Niccolo noticed the box was sealed with wax and stamped with the Imperial fleur-de-lis. He was curious, but not so curious as to commit a capital offence.

"You may trust me, your Majesty, I'll see it reaches her safely." Niccolo would have to find his sister first, but then he'd deliver the parcel. Perhaps I could ask her what this is about, he thought.

"Wonderful. I knew I was right to place my confidences in you. Now, let's attend to our tea. The servants are waiting rather impatiently at the door, I expect." On cue, a troop of men with tea services and pastry racks marched through the door. It was more than anyone could eat for one tea, but such was the way among the aristocracy. Niccolo knew it well from his own upbringing, and resigned himself to an hour of decadence in the presence of the Emperor.

by **Mediciano** » Mon Feb 17, 2014 2:42 pm

02.15.14
Castelmare, Mediciano

By Marco San-Silvani

Arcadia, Mediciano| In a move that has surprised a great many inside and outside the Imperial government, the Navy has issued an order to deploy the Medician Territorial Fleet in the Occidental Sea directly west of mainland Mediciano. The move comes as a result, according to the government, of a "worrying increase in the number of maritime aid requests sent by Medician merchant ships in the region." The area, which is usually considered safe for commercial sea travel, is partially administered by the Empire of Ralkovia, though officials stressed that "the fleet's deployment is not at all as a result of any actions taken by the Ralkovian state, and is purely to ensure continued operation of a vital shipping route."

The Territorial Fleet, or Flotta-T as it's commonly called by members of the Navy, is responsible for the defense of the Medician homeland from foreign threats, and is not usually tasked with venturing out of Medician waters. Such voyages are routinely undertaken by the High Seas Fleet, though the government has given no word on its movements or location.

To some, such as defense analyst Marsciallo Bruggione, the move is worrying. "The territorial fleet," Sig. Bruggione said over phone, "is the first line of defense that the Medicians have against any number of enemies to the Medician people. It is extremely unusual for the Navy to move these ships out of visual range of the island, and represents some perceived threat by the government. Furthermore, the fleet is moving into an area that is usually de-militarized, which might provoke some sort of reaction from Ralkovian High Command."

Ralkovia, according to sources close to the shipping industry, may be the cause for this deployment. Capt. Louis Serafini of the Toro Shipping Vessel Icarus responded to a request for comment. "I have heard personally," the captain of nine years said, "lots of stories of recent Ralkovian naval movements in the Occidental Sea. Just last week I responded to a request for escort from the Toro Blanco as a result of her captain feeling threatened by nearby Ralkovian vessels." The Icarus is an armed merchantman, which are usually tasked with ensuring peaceful and continued operations in the region, as well as with providing aid to slower, unarmed ships like the Blanco. "The fact that the navy is now handling the situation should tell you something. When the armed merchant ships, like my own, are unable to adequately handle a situation, that should be a hint that something may be wrong."

When pressed for comment on any Ralkovian involvement, the Navy responded that "[the Ralkovians] are not involved in this decision by the Admiralty. We simply want to address security threats in the area before they threaten our economic welfare. Mediciano relies on these shipping lanes and it is a priority of the government that they remain open and unhindered. The fleet will also use the time at sea to test several new technologies, which serves as a secondary reason for their unusual deployment." Some speculate that the "new technology" referred to in the statement may be the Medic-11 Pattugliamento-Marittimo-SASP, one of several drone variants unveiled by Toro International Defence S.p.a. at their biannual show last December.

Regardless, all parties acknowledge that this move is an unusual one for the Navy and the Castelmare Intelligencer will continue to provide updates on this story as more information emerges.

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Comments

by **Ralkovia** » Tue Feb 18, 2014 5:33 pm

"Are you familiar with the Parable of Ozrei?" Oskar said, sipping gently on the red wine he had found himself with before making a bitter face. It was a strong wine, but that was all the Super dreadnought Paxus At Allam, or literally 'Consuming Fire Upon All Water', had onboard.

"No, my Lordship, I have not," Jarv, the son of Master Admiral Ravak, responded, joining the Vice Minister on the top deck.

"The Devil visited Emperor Ozrei the Brutal one day, hearing that Emperor Ozrei was the most brutal and terrible torturer in the World. He personally wanted to see what Emperor Ozrei did. He was furious that the humans of the World feared Ozrei more than they did the Devil. So upon the new moon, the Devil appeared in the bedroom of Ozrei, with all his hellfire and demons accompanying him, intending to frighten the old man and show the World that the Devil was the most evil and brutal. However, he neither frightened nor surprised that figure of a man.

'WHY DO YOU NOT FEAR ME!' The Devil Shouted, flames licking at his body.

'Because you are not terrible. I have been to war, and you are not nearly as wicked as I am,' Ozrei said, watching the Devil with a look of pure condescension.

'You say War is Hell. But I am the Master of Hell. Therefore I am both Master of Hell and War!' the Devil retorted, his voice filled with nothing but the most primal of rage.

'I have never said that. War is War. Hell is Hell. And War is much worse,' Ozrei said, smiling at the Devil.

"How do you conclude that?!' the Devil exclaimed.
'
'Who populates your great Empire?' Ozrei asked.

'The sinners of this World. The wicked and unjust,' the Devil responded proudly.

'Indeed. There are no innocents in Hell. But in War, there are many. Women, children, the Elderly, and Cripples. Even the soldiers. When I burn a city, when I send a million men to tear apart an enemy, when I kill and burn and loot...I kill the innocents and create sinners. I populate your kingdom.'

And with that the Devil could not respond, he simply stood there in shock and disappeared with all the legions of hell and all of the hellfire.' And that is the Parable of Ozrei," Oskar said, smiling at the young man whose skin now crawled with goosebumps.

"Conclusively, the way Ralkovia conducts war is in the spirit of Emperor Ozrei. We have been trained and taught that the Empire and being Ralkovian are the most important things. The lives of everyone else are worth next to nothing. We, of course, have long term strategic allies that share similar ideologies. Scandinvan and Parthia, the most prominent. In the end, only a few nations such as these, will remain in our World. That is official Ralkovian Policy. Let me tell you the true policy. Forced evolution. Forced loyalty. For almost five hundred years, since Rabbi Jirgra Rango first discovered heredity and the precursor to genetics," Oskar said, watching Jarv's face carefully.

Jarv did not hesitate, he simply nodded in agreement. In truth, he was more than frightened by the crazed look in Oskar's eye, and even more by a crazed policy governing the elite of Ralkovia.

"And this has what to do with the coming war?" Jarv then asked, hiding the anxiety of being revealed this secret.

"Nothing. Almost nothing at least. Mediciano is unfortunately a threat and an opportunity. Ralkovia has always played carefully with the regional powers of Tyrrhenia. We could have likely crushed them in war, however, the Ralkovian homeland is a fragile place. A laboratory of sorts. We are not so callous and stupid as to invite war or an incident of genetic propagation of foreign entities in our homes. We have aggressively pursued the policy of termination for interracial progeny because of this as well. Currently, the largest enemy position is in the Ralkovian Islands, or as they're called now, the Adiuvo. However, Ralkovia can terminate the Adiuvo Islands in a matter of minutes, of course the repercussions would be a state of war with Lamoni and its allies. Mediciano is a whole other boat. Far enough away to offer the enemy a fair amount of warning, large enough to place significant ordinance, and having its own allies," Oskar said, his voice returning somewhat to normal, losing the crazed hype it held before.

"Our main goal is containment," Oskar added. "We likely won't colonize, but replace whatever government they have with a Pro-Ralkovian one. Simple as that. The Good Neighbor Policy is a standing document and only able to be amended by the Emperor," he continued. "And with the Emperor currently busy and away, and the current Foreign Minister in coma, it falls to me to make a decision. And let me say, I'm neither reckless in my ambition nor am I hard in my approach," Oskar spoke, smiling at the young man, before sipping from his wine.

"And I was brought....?" Jarv asked, inquiring as to why he had been ripped away and thrown onto the deck of some ship.

"Well while I came to regulate, you came to be renowned and idolized. I'm here because I'm leading direct control over these operations. Keeping the atrocities down and making sure we play...by the book, as much as possible. As son of the legendary 'Beast of Maslow' and a successful commander, you'll be making your first introduction to the Ralkovian People. I intend to have this broadcast. Since we're not going to engage in any...well...spectacles, the Ralkovian public will be seeing its first war up close. Media access, transparency, etc," Oskar said, somewhat proud of his own deviousness.

"Am I expected to do something in return?" Jarv again asked, confused at what had been revealed to him in the past few minutes.

"Serve Ralkovia. We're not some conspiracy. We're simply men interested in being remembered. We have served, faithfully, the Raskov family for millenia. We will continue to do so. You will continue the legacy of your father, keep the Ravak name alive and well and powerful. I owe your father, I wouldn't have found myself in this position without him, so now it's my turn," Oskar replied, looking towards the door and meeting eyes with a young naval officer.

"Sire Skara, I am bounded in honor and regret that this humble bug interrupts that of the Skara family, leader of-" the officer stopped, being beckoned by the hand of the Lord of Skara to approach him and skip the dignities and titles. Oskar Skara had no real interest in being worshipped or flattered, he was ambiguously ambitious.

"My Lord, the Mediciano send out their fleet, they intend to monitor us. Admiral Yarakov is informing you that all fleets our in position and that upon your command the military will take reign and begin battle," the Naval Officer said, keeping his bow for the descendant Clan of the Raskov. He was merely a low-born, by Ralkovian standards unfit to look upon those who had looked upon the Emperor, however the military had an equalizing effect and had been seen by many as the only way up and out. Titles of nobility, wealth, and land could be earned here. And if nothing more, nearly every Nobleman's son or even daughter was an Officer in the military, offering plenty of connections and networking. Many companies in Ralkovia only hired people that had served as well. Meaning that the Ralkovian Military had access to the best and brightest minds. Ambitious men and powerful ones.

"Then begin..."

Over-the-Horizon radar aboard the Strömbrin had detected the Flotta Territoriale. A Combat Fleet a mixture of one Jörmungandr, a Strömbrin, one Rahab, and two Yahm had separated from the main fleet to begin detection. The main fleet would continue using minimal radio emission to prevent discovery, along with the other three fleets being sent to Mediciano. The OTH didn't carry nearly enough accuracy to achieve a firing solution on the enemy fleet, however now that Ralkovia could find where the fleet was, it would begin attack procedures. It wouldn't have mattered what the enemy had in terms of jamming capability or stealth, the radio waves coming off the OTH being so massive.

Long range M4E73's, operating outside of the Mediciano's fleet CAP, would begin intrusion, using their AESA sets in LPI mode. Doomani built, the M4E73 were stealthy drones, constructed with their own RADAR and electro-optical search and track equipment, and ELINT systems, searching and finding the Mediciano. Meanwhile a single Golden Eagle had been sent up searching for the enemy fleet with their AESA, a radar that would be notoriously difficult to detect, able to change frequency hundreds of times a second.

Meanwhile, the Ralkovian Home Fleet had stayed quiet, engaging in detection minimizing movement. At discovery of the Mediciano Flotta however, or rather at achieving firing solutions of the signature fleet, ten HB-220 Bombers, with another ten in reserve, originating from the home port of Raskovia would unleash their arsenal of Doomani produced G1C31 missiles. Long-range and cheap, they would be guided in by the AWAC and Drones with midcourse updates. Two hundred and forty of these now streamed forward towards the Mediciano fleet.

I will not trouble you with a meaningless story— of whether we have the right to do this or that you have deserved this— I believe I am giving you some small kindness from having to hear from us a reason that would not believed; and I hope that you, instead of thinking to influence us by saying that you did not join our enemies or that you have done us no wrong, will instead pursue to the best of your abilities your own defense. I hope that in understanding that our Imperial intent is not characterized by maliciousness, but by pragmatism, that you will engage us with all power you can muster or make to us a quick and timely surrender.

Please understand that I am not without sympathy to your cause of national sovereignty, and that if surrender is issued, we shall assert our power in the manner of a benevolent King who sees that his subject errs. We shall supplant the current Government with one that is more fitting to both the People of Ralkovia and Mediciano. However, if Ralkovia is forced to fight for every inch of your soil, our intent will not end at colonization, but extermination.

For as we both know, right, is only a question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.

With Regards,

Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs

by **Mediciano** » Mon Feb 24, 2014 8:05 pm

ONI Headquarters
NAVSTA-Arc
Arcadia, Mediciano

"Babel is requesting comms, sir," an officer reported. Admiral del Mare nodded and gestured to the screen while reviewing the photographs in his lap. He looked up when the image appeared on the wall.

"Maggiore," del Mare said to the bearded astronaut who took a central position on the screen, "What do you have for us?"

Marco Sanseri, the astronaut, steadied himself with his arms, aligning himself with the camera. "Capitano Parmigianino is on optics now. If you look at the images we sent you, you can see substantial Ralkovian naval activity. We'll have higher resolution images when we're directly above and then you'll have us for another ten hours before we're OH."

The admiral nodded. "Once Babel is over horizon we'll have Hangeul take over for automated MILSAT coverage. I'm going to need infrared and laser imagery sent down, we've got to check for subs."

"Roger, sir, LIDAR is online now. We'll have images available in about twenty minutes and a heat map a few minutes after that. Sir, can I speak freely?"

"Go ahead, major."

"I'd recommend avoiding confrontation with this fleet. I've surveyed our forces in the area and I don't think Flotta-T can handle this one."

"Understood, major, I'll take that into consideration. While you're up there, turn RC optics over to mainland Ralkovia and check their military bases, focus on air traffic."

"Roger, sir. Mednordia is OH right now, but we'll be able to start scanning in about ten minutes."

"Wonderful. Update DONR with whatever you find, and if you think it's too urgent feel free to contact NAVSTA-Arc again." The admiral saw the astronaut's nod and turned away from the screen as it switched off. He quickly walked over to the comms officer. "Get me in touch with Flotta-T," he said, picking up the phone.

ISS Nautilus
MISTRAL Class
Occidental Sea

"Bridge," the yeoman said, picking up the phone off the console in front of him. "Roger, admiral. I'll pass you over."

The admiral onboard, hearing the caller's identity, walked over and took the phone. "Admiral Campi speaking," he said.

"This is Admiral del Mare at NAVSTA-Arc. I understand you're approaching a significant Ralkovian formation in the OS?"

"Aye, we are. Our fleet is beginning CP operations to establish a ZDC. Subs are scattered and operating independently so I can't speak for their position or readiness, but I expect they'd be operational by now. I was just about to hail the Ralkovian fleet. Has the government given any orders for how this should be handled? We've heard very little from Castelmare."

"Try to hail them and only engage if they enter the ZDC. You have MILSAT coverage and Babel's scanning for enemy subs now. Babel also reports that the enemy force is significantly greater."

"I'm well aware. They popped up on radar relatively recently, but the subs could hear them on sonar hours before that. We have three merchant marine vessels moving in from the surrounding waters, but all other civilian traffic has been redirected. Has Castelmare been informed of the nature of these craft? We sent up drones and we're seeing transport vessels. It's not high enough resolution to confirm they're carrying any significant force but we can confirm that there's activity."

"We've informed the government but they haven't responded yet. Last I heard, Suvorov was in with CCC." Del Mare sounded worried. Campi, of course, could relate. After all, it wasn't normal for the government to take this long to get moving.

Almost on cue, a light beeped on and a message started printing out. The yeoman took it and handed it to the admiral, who read it over. The admiral then handed it to the captain who, upon reading it, nodded gravely.

"Del Mare? Have you gotten the message?"

"I just read it. You're to engage the transports as highest priority. Campi, it's been an honour."

"Roger, and thanks but I'm not dead yet." Campi hung up the phone. The ship's captain pressed down on the intercom: "All hands, battle stations!" A klaxon sounded and crew began rushing about the deck. A few kilometers away, ships began breaking off from the formation to commence ZDC ops.

"God be with us," the admiral said somberly, regretting that there was no time for prayer. The order to engage the transports meant that CCC had decided to focus on preserving national integrity and not the fleet. By attacking transports, the Ralkovian's invasion infrastructure would hopefully be gravely damaged, though the Flotta-T would take heavy losses as a result.

The first phase of the confrontation was moving the nuclear submarines out of the area. Campi quickly sent off a message ordering hunter killer subs and U-boats to engage the enemy and the ballistic missile subs to make for the Ralkovian coast, steering clear of any enemy vessels. Next, each ship in the fleet split off into its assigned pair, and began to spread out. It was imperative that they maintain the ZDC. Air support would be scant, given their distance from the Medician coast, but the fleet's frigates were all equipped with air defence suites and would give any enemy aircraft a run for their money.

"Notify all vessels to fire as soon as the enemy comes within range. Captains are given situational authority and are authorized to use any means necessary to acheive the objective." The Medician Navy was meant for power projection, not high seas combat. As such, the ships were not as numerous as they had once been. The missiles, though, would still pack a punch. Exocet and Otomat missiles were deadly to ships, and the FREMM's 76mm cannons were perfect for missile defence. Meanwhile, the 100mm cannons would be able to engage the enemy once they drew nearer. It was not an even battle, but Campi knew that God was on his side.

CCC Headquarters
Castelmare

The men around the table were silent, hands clasped and jaws set. Suvorov sat at the head of the mahogany centerpiece, his face twisted into a cruel scowl. On screens behind and in front of him, MILSAT footage was being streamed live. They watched the two fleets nearing each other. On another screen, photos taken by UAVs showed the transport vessels that accompanied the Ralkovian fleet.

Finally, a young officer spoke up. "Sir? We're going to have to mobilize the army for homeland defence. Their main purpose has to be invasion and the army will have to intercept whatever transports make it past Flotta-T."

"Agreed," Suvorov said. "We'll deploy the 2nd Corps to the western coast. Meanwhile, I want the 3rd to fortify Castelmare and the east. It's imperative that the capital is protected. Has the BMDA begun air defence preparations?"

The BMDA's representative nodded. "The passive defence network is active, and we're deploying mobile anti-air units around the country. They'll mainly be focused around Belvedere and Castelmare, but we don't have enough to make the west coast impenetrable. It'll be up to the Army and Air Force to defend those areas."

"Understood. We must also recall the Flotta d'Alto Mare to begin insular defence. Can you see to that?"

The Navy representative nodded. "We have already requested their return, and our SSBNs are moving into range of Ralkovia now. We've also authorized the engagement of any Ralkovian vessels that the fleet might encounter and the seizure of any merchantmen flying the Ralkovian flag."

An inquisitor stood up. "Are we ignoring the domestic side of this invasion? We have Jews in country who would love to aid the Ralkovians, and who I'm sure wouldn't hesitate to spy against us. The Inquisition still has the camps from the December Proclamation, and they can be made ready for human habitation relatively quickly."

"It only really has to be ready for sub-human habitation in reality," an officer joked. It would have drawn laughs had the situation not been so tense.

"Then see to it. Meanwhile," Suvorov said, turning to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, "I want you to notify Ralkovian high command that we are issuing a declaration of war in response to their unprovoked attack. See to it that our allies are made aware as well. I want you to secure the Waldenburg continent's support. That means Germany, Belhavia, everyone. See if you can't stir up any of Ralkovia's old foes while you're at it. Anything to fill out our hand. We cannot let our city fall to these barbarians at the gate."

Cause for War (IC, CLOSED, ATTN: Tyrrhenia)

Cause for War (IC, CLOSED, ATTN: Tyrrhenia)

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