The Flower Set Ablaze [MT | NEW EARTH ONLY]

[Alcase]

A Republic in Crisis

"Revolution of 1848" by Henri Felix Emannuel Philippoteaux

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La République Alcasienne

29 Avril 2016

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It has been several weeks since the Alcasian legislative assemblies passed the AFAACT (Aid for Aeuria in Australia Act), yet its impact had profound excitations throughout the Alcasian Empire. For centuries, the Francien dominated the planet. From the Aeurian monarchy's contributions to world peace and the Alcasian strides in technological innovation - used to revolutionize not only political systems, but also approaches to social issues - the Francophone culture had long been a dominant force akin to the fundamental and torrential forces of nature.

From the Andean mountains of the Americas to the fractured princely states of India, the Francophone empires restored peace, security, and prosperity to its people. Aeuria and Alcase, hand in hand as Absolutists and Liberals respectively, maintained their dominance through providing security to an increasingly expensive Imperial domain.

Nonetheless, there remained cracks in the Empire's roads. People were displaced, people were forced to die for a foreign President, and many cultural norms were suppressed in favor of the Cosmopolitain way of life. This continued from the 16th century, when Alcase began her Empire-building expeditions, all the way to the 21st century, when the Alcasian Imperial domains were relatively tamed. Despite the assimilation of millions of colonial "citizens," the people did not always count themselves Alcasians, and the native Hexagonal government often played off of that fear. Utilizing the most recent resentment of colonial populations, the majority Government's opposition gained allies, both civil and military, and rebellious behaviors spread all throughout the Empire.

In Alcasian-America's most populous jewel-embezzled cities, the citizenry protested the recent Governor's extremely unpopular move to increase interior security measures. It was seen as an overpowering government of uncaring bureaucrats, and the people were mad. Riots broke out in the back country, and the government often fought rampant tax evasion. In Africa, spears were lifted, and riots were plenty. Streets ran crowded with angry students protesting the Alcasian government's increasingly disproportionate allocation of educational resources to military matters. In India, the Alcasian Republic's most populous colonial posession, the minority Muslims and Hindus of the north clashed with the culturally opposite Roman Catholics of the more civilized southern states. Riots broke out in the colonial capital Delhi, many ending in the deaths of hundreds of men, women, and children, including government officials.

Even in the capital of the Flower, within and around the island of the city, protests were populous. The more liberal student body of Paris protested the government's violent turn to help a greedy ally, as opposed to strengthening the state of Europa's well-being. The Flower was set on fire, and the incompetent government, dominated by conservatives, were simply fanning the blaze with oxygen-rich air. It was only a matter of time before the President would be standing amidst a city of flame, forced to see her vast power set ablaze with the blood of the good people of Paris.

[Federal States of Xathuecia]

Office of The Democrazia Itary Verzione
Yariliment of Xathuecia
Neueva Valenci, Xathuecia

“Trouble is stirring in Alcase. I have evidence here that there may even be revolutionaries within the nation planning something!”

Aska Venmari, the leader of the DIZ party, turned to the Sub-Speaker of the Yariliment. “Thank you for telling me Xera. We have to be very careful. The Speaker reported our members who voted for the Aralian Descalation Act, the very next day, ten were reported missing. Can you believe that? The Confreme made ten representatives disappear! While a revolution is on the horizon, we cannot forget that the regime is still strong. The F-Party has only gained strength as well.”

“But these Alcase people, they could help us. No power would dare support the F’s - to radical for this world. If we can make some connections, we may be able to end this regime of Hartl and bring a new liberal era. Lito was our revolutionary but he was cast off and killed. Time for the DIZ to rise again. How are our informations in the Xrat doing?

“The High General has agreed to support us if our military policies towards them do not change. I have agreed for we need the army on our side.”

“Ahh, very good.” said Xera pouring herself some Lite Naxa coke. She loved it and while she had a diabetes problem, she liked to sneak in one sometimes.

“Hartl is too negligent of domestic affairs that he won’t know what hit him. The Befana has also revealed another secret: Xathuecia has sent more soldiers to the Atlantic. I don’t know how she does it but her information is invaluable.”

He leaned farther back in his seat pulling a drawer out. He took out a small glass and spun his chair around to open a bottle of Iab Nev. He poured himself a glass and turned back.

“Iab Nev, a wine of the 1980’s, when the times were better. We will bring those times back and restore honor.”

“Of course,” said Xera grabbing one of the wine cups Aska has set out for her, “If you could please.”

Aska filled it up and they looked at each other.

“To our future and it’s greatness & nobility!”

Message to Alcasian Liberals

Salutations our fellow Liberals,

Europe has been seen great success in its time but now we see nothing but seemingly dull leaders who act with complete disregard for their people. The time for this has come to an end. The Tasmanian rebels, no matter who they be, have begun this, lighting the flame of liberalism in the world. We have kept a close eye on Alcase for sometime and now I see Alcase itself beginning to catch this flame. But this has spread and with the movement only growing, the Xathus wish for the flame to spread. We wish to speak with your leaders for Xathuecia wishes to cast of the chains of tyranny, radical conservatism, and hyper-interventionists for a new Xathuecia. We beg of you aid your friends of the South.

Sincerely,

The Aging Phoenix

[Edelreich]

The Eagle of Europe laid fat and somnolent in its roost; its portly figure the result of centuries of upward climbing stirred by the fumes of industry and commerce and managed by a class of individuals ranging from the greatest of nobles to the lowest of workers, whose methodic beating of iron echoed the course of the nation throughout struggles and triumphs and into its modern form. A form of success and ingenuity even when the past fires of Europe were still engulfing the setting sun. A rhythm of procedure through even the darkest days that maintained the hopes and desires of millions abroad and even more at home; braving through the booming of cannons and the rapport of rifles and the clashing of steel to protect the homeland; the land that belonged to the Eagle and to God.

Thus it was truly possible that the grace of God was blessed upon the German peoples of the Reich. For who else could say that the flames of war left them a stronger and more united people; whose rallying cry carried their blood-soaked flag to a new age of innovation and thinking. Not many, most would answer. Fewer still were true. Recovering from the pandemic that engulfed Europe for many decades, the Eagle became a symbol of European advancement and progressive thinking - a move that created envy and awe among the foreign masses but was considered merely a trivial thing to the Germans. Their destiny was set in stone and there was no point in celebrating the individual notions of accomplishment when the whole roost of the Eagle was built by many past generations.

Of course it was not without testing. The Eagle had many times before faced its own undoing at the hands of its people, a theme of destruction that coursed through the very nature of Central Europe that saw brother against brother and countrymen warring with their fellows. Even when unification was at hand and years passed since, the state of the Eagle was fraught with contention and violence; uprisings with a nature that could undo centuries of development. Yet on that warm June day when the fires of change burned brightly, when the people that once upheld the state proudly turned to their dreadful operation, the orchestrated Red Monday could not stand against the future of the Eagle and became a distant footnote in the venerable creature’s memory as its impetus only served to bring on new memories and changed the Reich forever.

That change was the atom; the force of scientific curiosity made manifest into the culture of a people recovering from their own desolation and it transformed all. Public sentiment grew in many directions and the fires of change once again challenged the nature of the Eagle. Yet here it benefited and provided a light, a hearth of giving warmth that indulged and gratified the Eagle of Europe into a position of safety that was assured by the creations that atom gave the Reich. Resting ever so remiss, the Eagle was protected from harm by the ultimate of deterrents: Weapons and ideals that were devised from the paths that nations had left. Never again would it fret vigilance, for the Watch on the Rhine was manned from afar.

So when the cries of a desperate and inflamed people once again echoed through the hunting lands of the Eagle, it remained nested and watched with one eye open from afar, for the state of Europe was the state of the Eagle’s home, and to secure it and make it prosperous and productive once more was the goal of every German.

[Alcase]

Tasmania, Aeuria

Supreme Commander of the United Armed Forces of la Francophonie and Alcasian Fleet Admiral Charles Louis-Rafale sat upon his chair in the distance beyond the Aralian blockade. He was a very experienced and capable man, having served in multiple Francophonie wars and suppressing many insurrections in Alcase's deadly history. He was never fond of the mock-Roman Aralian civilization, it irked him that Aeuria were close friends with two distant enemies. Nonetheless, the Francophonie was a force for good and he was pledged to its defense.

The Alcasian assault force was permitted access, as it had no enemy signage, and probably because the Aralians were more willing to let Alcasians die than their own. Within days, the Alcasian Naval Infanterie was fighting Tasmanian rebels, with commands from Paris containing some disturbing messages. The civilian authority, more willing to bring prestige to their own seats of power, were treating the Naval force in Tasmania as expendables, rather than living soldiers with families back home. This deeply troubled Fleet Admiral Charles Louis-Rafale, and he could only pass down the information and orders on to his lower-tiered officers or face court martial.

Weeks later...

The weary Fleet Admiral had just about had enough. Luckily, however, the Executive Authority in Paris, faced with massive riots back at home and in colonial territories, called back the masses of troops to keep order. This included the grand Fleet Admiral Charles Louis-Rafale, who was called upon to answer and give report to the Admiralty. He was evaluated and ordered to seek psychiatric help for a possible diagnosis of PTSD. All the while, the streets of Paris continued to run red with the blood of protesters and policemen alike.

[Edelreich]

Richtenräschen, Edelreich

The crowd roared and hailed the marching men as they paraded down the main road of the city, their travels presently in-front of the City Palace, where the Kaiser was expected to give a speech regarding the celebrations of his 41st birthday. The country was in high spirits, as May always resulted in the Kaiser’s birthday celebration before his family left for Harstettin - their Summer Castle in the north. Drinks and food were passed aplenty and most work for the day had been cancelled or postponed, even schools were out according to tradition. Those within the city made effort to be present at the parade, the rest across the nation and colonies watching on TV and observing the holiday in their own ways.

The third of May was significant to the state, for while the birthday of the Kaiser changed each heir, the tune and nature of it remained the same. The government used it as a rallying cry; Kaiser Mathias, as all Kaisers, was a ruler of the people and their monarch. Thus it was showed adequately in the celebrations. The military band lead the way yet right behind them was the school and university bands of the country. Soldiers marched behind policemen and military veterans and standards of the royal family were carried by all walks of life. Foreign delegations were sometimes present and were largely welcomed, but the event itself was primarily an Edelreich festivity and as such was a national ordeal. Usually the Kaiser received cards from those parties.

“Long live Kaiser Mathias,” the crowds of onlookers shouted, the bands kicking up their beat to overtake the commotion. They often joined in song and most of the folk songs were taken to heart. “From the North and the South we come today!” They sang. “East and West all the same, march down to this fine day, and hold our Kaiser to great acclaim!”

Inside the Palace, the commotion was drowned out by the large gothic revival walls and the scampering of servants making their way through the ornate halls, carrying platters of food for the soon-to-arrive nobles of the realm and the gathering royal family. The guards were on higher alert than normal, the massive crowds and extra feet to watch a good time to conceal wrong-doers. By the upper-balconies most of them passed, paying quick salutes and hasty farewells to the Kaiser who stood by the door and listened to the uproars of the happy crowds, his ear up against the wall.

Down the hall came two of the palace’s regulars, War Minister Lindauer and Mathias’ cousin, Harald Alexander. Both men were dressed for the occasion, the Minister in a suit and Harald in an officer’s uniform and carried with them a sprightly complexion, in good feelings from the celebrations and showings of the Reichswehr.

“Hail Kaiser.” Lindauer said, smiling as he shook his liege’s hand. “You look rather animated today.” He pointed out, looking back to Harald to see him nodding in agreement.

Mathias gestured towards the door. “The noise always gets me. Forget how big this city is sometimes.”

“And loyal,” Harald replied. “They always manage to come out each year for this.”

“That they do.” He agreed. “Fortunately, it also helps that everything is so calm on the continent. Especially with Tasmanien.”

Lindauer looked confused. “Calm?” He inquired curiously. “You have been reading the news, right sir? The Cabinet has been spilling the pot over the rumblings.”

“I could scarcely call them rumblings," Harald sarcastically added. "Minister, we’ve seen reports of deaths in India and elsewhere. Why, it seems like the whole of Alcase’s colonies are about to burst.”

“I’m aware. The Kaiser isn’t out of commission yet. Your report reached my desk just last night about Alcase’s troops returning home. It’s definitely something to be worried of, but what are we to do of it? It’s deplorable that Alcasians are killing one another, and the actions in the ‘Hex definitely affect the security of the mainland - but it’s scarcely our responsibility to handle something that is their government’s fault.”

“Pardon me sir?”

Mathias sighed. “They chose to protect Aeuria,” he explained. “The entire world is starting to turn around to our line of thinking. We can’t survive in this day and age with the sensibilities of the Aeurians leading us, so it was about time somebody did something about it. Alcasians fixing their own foreign policy was probably the best outcome for us.”

“We have fears they might turn socialist.” His cousin exclaimed.

“Saddening I suppose, but if it pulls them away from Aeuria and back into Europe, isn’t that still a boon to us.”

“Even if they go against our wishes?”

“We’ll have to watch and see what happens. I’d rather not have socialists, but some idiotic Alcasians thinking that they’re all so high and mighty and that they can just ignore the acts of Aeuria because they speak French? Now that’s reprehensible to everything we stand for, and as long as I live, I won’t stand for it.”

Lindauer smiled happily but Harald was still unsure, both men standing silently for a moment before he questioned again. “What of Tillich?”

“Do you really think the Fatherland Party is going to be opposed to my opinion of Alcase?”

“Fair enough Mathias.” He said, withdrawing his complaint from the conversation and wishing them well before he went on his way, hoping to run into the Kaiserin.

Both of the men pulled away from the hall and walked up to the window, Mathias pulling a curtain aside so he could see the parade. “Rather nice.” He mumbled out, setting the curtain back and turning to face the Minister. “As for the situation in Alcase, tell the Chancellor to issue a statement calling for a peaceful solution to the issues that the protestors have. Most we’ll do for now.”

“Of course Your Majesty.”

[The United Isles of Britain]

London, England
Although the nature of their relationship had changed after hundreds of years, Britain and Alcase were nearly always at odds. Both their policy, actions, and even imperial ambitions seemed to always antagonize the other. From the successful conquest of the French territories in North America, supporting the creation of a unified German state, and in more recent years in fighting against them and their Aeurian allies in the Great War, Britain sees Alcase as a constant threat, but also a needed rival to keep themselves and their ambitions in check. The Liberal party has remained the ruling party in the Palace of Westminster for almost thirty years, although it was clear that Britain would do little to support these revolutionaries, many across the Isles quietly supported the current string of events occurring on the mainland.

The Royal Family has been seen as a symbol of national pride, but more importantly as a symbol of national unity. Britain has remained united for over 200 years, nationalist movements predominantly in Ireland and Scotland has remained a concern as revolutions have begun to spring up across the world.

"There are growing concerns about this revolution." Said Prince Arthur speaking with his father, King William III. "However, there are widespread hopes across the Isles that this could lead to a weakening of Franco-Aeurian imperial dominance of so much of the world if it's successful." He said with almost a bit of eagerness. "We could see much of Alcase's recent antics come to a conclusion soon."

"It will take time for the effects of this current revolution to be realized." William said sipping from cup of tea. "It may not even be successful and wither as others have."

"Parliament, and by extension myself hold hope." He said looking at a recent Parliamentary report.

"I'm not saying I don't. I'm not that much of a pessimist!" He said chuckling. "I'm just saying we should be prepared for the worst. If anything we should begin to note the rest of Europe's thoughts on the matter."

"The Edelreich will almost certainly support it to an extent, to what extent is a question Parliament has asked, but we await a response. As for some of the other nations I'm not quite sure. Some may care less. about the revolution."

"I trust that our German counterparts will act accordingly." He said as he checked his watch. "For now, I need to be going. I have a meeting to attend."

[Allied Merchant Republics]

The Commonwealth of Allied Merchant Republics had long been close to the nation of Alcase. Both nations had been once ruled by monarchs, but then freed by the will of the people. Both had established colonies across the globe. Both were located in Europe, both were republics. For years, for decades, AMR had maintained a positive and beneficial relationship with Alcase.

But now, the people of Alcase were angered, outraged. The government was starting to pay the price of incompetence, for ignoring its people, and for making honest mistakes, and that price was one of blood and fire. And this panic was beginning to spread to the Allied Merchant Republics.

The people of AMR would becoming concerned, fearful and angry. There was much conflict, and "polite discussion" over what stance the nation should take. On one hand, the people wanted to rebel against a poor government for valid reasons, the very way the Commonwealth was founded. On the other, they had chosen war over words, and the principles they desired seemed to conflict with those of the AMR government, and much of its population.

And so, as it is often the case when ideas collide, but each choice has a major consequence, the Commonwealth of Allied Merchant Republics did nothing. By choosing neither side, they could lose nothing, but neither would they gain anything. And some protested being a mere bystander, when the nation had the chance to save a blazing power from the fire of its own people. To many, it seemed, the government had was being cowardly, was fearful of making a single wrong step in case that step was in the wrong direction.

But although it appeared that nothing had been done, in secret, preparations had been made. The fleets of the Dutch had been readied for battle, in case their deployment was necessary. Spies, special forces and Dutch Marines were being briefed in case of emergency. And then the announcement was made- if things got any worse in Alcase, if another colony revolted, if another army was forced to match on angered civilians, the Allied Merchant Republics would get involved. What remained to be seen was which side the government, and the people, would take.

[Alcase]

A Country in Mourning

Young Alcasian Naval Force Captain Prince Phillipe mourns the death of his sailors who were killed in an incident off the coast of Gujarat

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The Alcasian Republic

5 Mai, 2016

Riots continue to pursue politics and debate across the Empire. From the Argentine mountains of the Andes to the ancient streets of the capital city Paris, all the way across the ocean, past Brazzaville, and into Delhi, protesters are incredible unhappy with the government. Non-government "World Peace" Organizations have condemned the Alcasian government's actions in the face of crisis, and credit corporations have downgraded Alcase's economic probability. All the world now looks down upon the arrogant Alcasians, and the government has since proven incompetent to handle this esteem-piercing fact.

National Admiralty Tower, Paris

"The streets grow hotter and hotter with each passing day," remarks Fleet Admiral Charles Louis-Rafale, sitting down on his armchair while floating over a load of documents confirming the movement of troop numbers throughout the colonial empire of Alcase.

"You sound like a freaking book," his lieutenant and close friend replies, smirking to him and sounding sarcastic.

"Lieutenant de Vaisseau, how are you supposed to address superior officers?" Charles whispers, barely moving his lips.

"You sound like a fucking book, Sir," Lt. Pierre replied, sighing heavily as to sound irritated.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened had our Parliament been filled more of the more competent men of Alcase, yeah? Our Indian colonies are ridiculously red, and it's because of our idiotic conservative assembly's disgustingly sharp press of the Catholic Faith onto the Indians. Their Hindus up north, why would you upset them like that? That... That and the stupid Admiralty staff love their fucking-" F.Adm. Louis-Rafale begins to rant, but is interrupted with the entrance of an Admiralty staff-member, bringing a message from the Ministry of the Armed Forces' directors.

"Fleet Admiral, your psychiatric paperwork is ready and has been reviewed by the Sous-Ministre des Forces Navales, he's demanded some things remain redacted from public, more civilian, eyes. He also has a request, if you could see him in his office in the morning, that would be incredibly appreciated," the staff-member started, staring straight at the Fleet Admiral with no emotion showing. The moonlight zooming through the window created a myriad of shadows from the furniture, and now, the man, dressed in all black with a small pin containing the Alcasian flag attached to his collar, added to the number of shades.

"Excuse me? Is this official business? Why would he have a young-"

"Fleet Admiral, my minister is only interested in Alcase's best interest. He believes a change in our national direction is in order. Please see him at 8 hours. Thank you kindly," and with a sterner look, he turns and leaves the dimly lit room just as quickly as he had walked in. The two military servicemen, confused, yet arriving at their own inferences, continue their informal conversation, and continue finishing their official paperwork.

Delhi, Inde

9 Mai, 2016

Across the world, in one of Alcase's richest cities, riots continue. Troop movements, mostly from northern India, continue advancing on protesters and rioters alike, making no discrimination in whom to suppress. Within a small mosque is seated a powerful umma leader Faran al-Mughal. In the lightly lighted domed cathedral, he sits in the middle, facing Mecca, always facing the holiest city of the Islamic Faith, and prays to his powerful Allah. He mutters prayers out loud, followed with seconds of silent prayer, and then again speaks up praising Allah. After he has completed his final prayer of the day, he stands, a little sore from sitting down for so long in such a position.

"I must be getting old," he mutters to himself, turning around slowly.

"Rehnuma," a young mosque volunteer says, glaring at the older man, "I am honored to be in your presence!"

"Settle down, young boy, you are no more honored as you are to honor, what can I help you with?"

"Our city is so bloody, why do you let this be? Why won't Allah help us?!"

"Bacha, you must be patient. Allah will speak through your mind and through your umma's, so trust in the followers and believe with us, and he will answer all of our prayers with his unrelenting love."

"I trust you, rehnuma, I am with you forever, may Allah grant us Jannah, Ameen."

"Ameen, bacha, ameen."

With a sweet, smooth sweep of their feet, they both embrace, praying together in their minds, hopeful of a better tomorrow.

[New Cordia]

Port Northfell,
New Cordian Defense Administration Headquarters

Lieutenant Anders walked with a brisk pace down the sidewalk, his head pointed towards the concrete in order to avoid the high noon sun that shined over the Port. He had just exited the Governor General’s Operating House, often referred to as GGOH by the military nomenclature, and was headed just down the street to the local military HQ; a building that housed a portion of the military communication and defensive networks of the Commonwealth. By the familiar Northfell Garden Park he passed, a quick glance behind it revealing the rustic foothills and plains of farmland that carried on miles beyond the local coast of the port city, the heart and soul of the Cordian society and people.

In his hand the Lieutenant held a leather-bound briefcase, detailing some instructions and transcribed news reports on the Alcasian riots and the revolution at large that had been boiling over the world. Even the people of Cordia, who for most of their lives generally remained focused on the hardships and trials of their wild homeland, were interested in the developments in the Old World. An Alcasian presence was on the South American continent and that was the excuse the Governor General used for his close monitoring of the event, but the Lieutenant among many others were sure that he was merely interested if anything beyond the events of the steady Commonwealth. He passed by another familiar landmark, a telephone pole with a ‘Vote Solidarity - A Common Party for A Common Man” political poster glued on the mass of it. He would be at the offices soon and could only imagine what the idle men inside would be discussing.

“Rather a fine day to be wasting away in here.” Came the distant words from Harry Bates, a Colonel in the New Cordian Army who was more inclined to be out on the town or at his plantation where the growing season had wrapped up, but most farming equipment was still being stowed away. “The Big G keeps insisting that we’re spending valuable time watching over news reports, but why does Alcase’s rebellion bother us? Does he expect us to go over there if a revolution breaks out?”

“The Big G,” his friend, Major Michael Newing, said mockingly, “Is just trying to keep up in world affairs. We’ve been bad at that for years, at least he wants things to be slightly different. Going to foreign meetings and actually knowing what is on around the world? Pretty smart.”

The Colonel reluctantly nodded, grumbling to himself about overtime pay as he creased and folded a paper and slid it into his jacket, which hung nearby the door. “Why don’t we just get the go ahead from Britain? His Majesty hasn’t said a word to us about this; which is a pain in the rear when you’re trying to create a rainbow’s worth of situation plans. General Marty even pulled out his pipe again for this, so I hear.”

“That would be an inopportune way of communicating what we already know Harry.” Michael replied, reading over a report on his desk. “And Marty needs to stop smoking. He’s going to get cancer at this rate.”

“What do you mean?” The officer responded curiously, lighting up a cigarette and moving over to a window out of respect. “About the uh, communication thing? They’ve never seen reason to withhold information before. The King has been… fair in that regard.”

Michael nodded, signing off on a paper at his desk. “That much is true, but think about it. If anyone somehow catches wind of Britain sending communications to us, even if they just have the header, then they damn well know that Britain is worried about Alcase and that Cordia should be too.”

“So we’re on our own.”

“We have been before. Besides, this’ll just continue on like normal; people always raise themselves higher than their established institutions. Professor Layton Andrew wrote an essay on the whole deal.” He responded dignified. “If things truly turned sour, then it’s up to the G.G. to decide if we have jurisdiction.”

“Jurisdiction as a police force? He’s been caught up for nearly a week now over that,” the Colonel said, a pause in his speech to enjoy his cigarette. “Probably gonna end up being a hung resolution again.”

“Aye. Not to mention... the GWR won’t appreciate our policing of South America. Assuming we did resolve that jurisdiction, that is.”

Harry sighed, turning back to reading the news and smoking. “Bugger,” he yelled; a drop of blood coming from his index finger. “Second time this week I’ve gotten a paper cut.” He scowled at the Major’s laughter and turned to face the door, both men hearing the doorbell.

“Who is it?”

“The Mailman,” he sardonically spat, opening up the door for Lieutenant Anders to enter. “What; another request from GG for us to look over?”

Anders shook his head. “Something else sir. The Governor General wishes for NCDAH to review some papers that his administration took from the news and world reports. He specifically wanted General Marty and the like to keep them in mind when revisioning their plans.”

“Anything regarding the talks?”

“Ah, no sir. It would appear that Congress intends to continue into tomorrow.”

Both officers groaned, the Colonel complaining about the chances of it being resolved. After some small talk and banter about weather, and the Major remembering to invite both men to his family barbeque upstate, the lieutenant offloaded his briefcase and promptly exited. It would be another few hours before either Michael or Harry could go home; what felt like an eternity for the two men.

[Alcase]

A Republic in Crisis

4 Alcasian "Horizon" Frigates take formation off the coast of Ahmedabad, Gujarat

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La République Alcasienne

29 Avril 2016

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Hôtel de Brienne (National Admiralty Tower), Paris

Fleet Admiral Charles Louis-Rafale begins his march towards the Under-Minister of the Naval Force's office. Adorning the walls of the Hotel, neo-classical paintings of Alcase's naval history constitute the bulk of hand-crafted art housed within the tower. The Admiral walked slowly, he had not been feeling well ever since his service suppressing both Tasmanian and Indian riots, and he spent most of his moving motional energy on his own mind's wanderings. Within about six minutes of wontoning around a brightly lit hallway, he passed a room with its large aircraft-grade alluminum plated and stainless steel trimmed door slightly ajar.

The Admiral stared at it, breathing an ambiguous sigh, and walked a little closer. "How can I not have clearance, I renovated the fuck out of the design of this piece of shit building," the Admiral thought to himself, inching closer and closer to the slightly open door, making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

<<FOREIGN NATIONALS KILLED; CIVIL WAR IN XATHEUCIA BREWING HOTTER>>

These were the words spewed all over the miniscule television screen placed opposite the dark room's door. The Alcasian news network, like all the most popular media outlets, had to add in their two cents; the inefficient Xatheuician government was finally crackling under its own incompetence, ignoring the fact that their own Alcasian government was in similar shoes.

Valenci, Xatheucia

"Mama, J'ai peur..." the young boy whined, running towards his mother as the foundations of his house shook from the shockwaves of explosions.

"It's okay, my love, we will be safe. Just make sure to stay away from the windows and keep the lights off," his mother replied, comforting him with her warm, cotton-woven embrace. The relatively young Alcasian citizens were stuck in the middle of a war-torn country, leaving their home country with only the intent of participating in a business event sponsored by the lady's husband's aerospace company. For hours, the two were stuck in the middle of the burning city and they wanted to get out.

Within moments of the lady comforting her son with a combination of her soft words and soft embrace, a whistling could be heard in the skies above them. Finally, an artillery shell impacted, ripping through the wooden frames of the home and sending molten hot metal-charcoal-mixed shrapnel in all directions. The young boy was struck in the face; the burned shrapnel ripped through his hair and exited out the parietal lobe of his brain. Organic material was plastered over the darkened material of the house. There were no cries, just silence; there remained only the piercing silence of shrapnel and shame.

Hôtel de Brienne, Paris

The Admiral lost his footing, and his knees became weak. He faltered, if for just a moment, sick to the stomach and slightly bleeding from his nose. He was confused and his shuffling made considerable noise in the eerily resembling and blankly silent atmosphere of the hallway.

"You're not aloud in this room, Sir, please keep going," a young naval officer repeated, almost as though he had been required to rehearse that very line for his entire training regimen. As he closed the door, the Admiral noticed a large print of red lettering on a large screen showing the Indian subcontinent and several figures bordering it. He couldn't make out the exact shapes that were displayed on that giant screen, but he assumed it was just naval exercises.

He kept moving, as instructed; he just kept moving along.

[Edelreich]

City Palace, Richtenräschen

Footsteps echoed down the hall of the old palace, a lone soldier playing messenger boy for one of the most powerful men in the nation the only living creature in sight. The guards around the palace stood silent and still, their stony characters armed in old iron cuirasses and wielding uncommon pikes. Though they were the honor guard and their appearance appeared evocative of the medieval days, their duty was to defend the Kaiser and it was carried out with a remarkable efficiency which unnerved the soldier; quickening his step to the beat of the drums that followed outside. The evening was upon them as the exchanging of the entrance guards often marked, the sound-off heightening the grim gothic revival architecture.

He stopped and clanked his feet together in pose, knocking on the door to the Kaiser’s personal bedroom with a report that broke the returning silence like a rifle. He waited a moment and considered knocking again until the Kaiser himself answered, dressed in an evening outfit. Above his shoulder the soldier saw the state of his bedroom, some large books scattered on the floor and old polaroids on every surface. The soldier had heard that at times the Kaiser was rather rude and unaccepting, and he hoped dearly these wasn’t one of those times.

“Can I help you?” The Kaiser spoke quickly.

“Your Majesty. I have a letter for you from Ministers Lindauer and Bott regarding the climate in Alcase and abroad.”

The Kaiser nodded and pulled the door open fully, allowing the soldier access to his private bedroom as he walked to the dresser and poured himself a glass of beer, having already gone through a few bottles earlier that were littered on it. He stopped suddenly and grabbed a picture off of it, holding it up for the man to see. “Do you recognize these people?”

“No,” came the short response from the soldier who was unfamiliar with the man and woman shown. Clearly they were of a noble birth, but beyond that he couldn’t tell.

“Of course not,” The Kaiser sighed defeated. “This was my Uncle Wilhelm and his lovely wife. I named my son after him.” He walked across the room and kicked a family book out of his way, drawn to the window. “One moment they were here, the next gone. Vanished without a trace! Life is that fickle that two people of such high standing could disappear. Not a damned thing in this world is spared the harsh realities of it.”

The soldier remained silent, unsure of how to handle the personal nature that his liege took on. He had assumed a simple deposit of the letter was in store. Clearly not anymore.

“And this,” came the alarming question of Mathias who had crossed the room once more. “Pay attention now. Do you know who this is, or have the youth forgotten so quickly their history?”

He studied it for a moment then smiled. “That is the late Kaiser Mathias I, your father sir.”

“Ding ding.” He derisively responded, drinking the rest of his glass and tossing it on the bed. “Born and lived through one of the most harrowing times of our nation, wouldn’t you say? He was a great man, lived a long life, yet left so much to be learned through experience. A true master I say.”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir?” The Kaiser mocked. “Is that all you are; a man told when to jump and when to fight?”

The soldier tensed. “Sir, the letter?”

“Christ, give me the damned thing.” He stole the folder away and tore it open, reading the letter aloud with a callous look on his face. “Your Majesty, I have spoken with Minister Bott and we have concurred that the situation in Alcase is simply unlikely to return to a status quo. The events in Xathueica have only sponsored actions of revolutionary fervor in both countries. We would do well to watch our own. Perhaps now is the time to plan accordingly.” He frowned and folded the letter away into his pants pocket for later, looking at the soldier with a certain mystique. “What’s your take on all this? What does a common German think about this Alcasian ruckus? Freely now!”

“Sir, the people of Alcase have long corralled themselves with the Aeurians. They can scarcely be seen with contempt, but shouldn’t be treated as allies or friends, nor respected for their actions as traitors against Europe.”

Mathias nodded, thinking on his words. “Ah, Europe. Such a blanket term isn’t it? These days there seems to be three of them; Alcase’s, ours and everyone else. Come now, what of Xathuecia?”

“They… are a strange government and comparably unusual society right under our noses, sir.”

“That they are. Uncommon; against every sensibility we have. Yet we managed to forge some commitment with them through the Coalition.” The Kaiser turned away, looking back at the mess in the room. “I believe I made a response lad. Report to Lindauer and Bott that I wish to summon an emergency session. Get Tillich and the rest at her offices.”

“Yes sir.”

“And uh… do send for a maid will you?”

“At once Your Majesty.”

[Alcase]

Un Changement d'État

"Napoleon’s return from exile from the island of Elba" by Karl Stenben

---

La République Alcasienne

---

Hôtel de Brienne, Paris

5 Mai, 2016

"Minister, you requested me?" the old, grey-haired Admiral stated as he walked into the Under-Minister's office, condescendingly staring down at the younger civilian.

"Yes, have a seat ... As you know, the state of Alcase is in a dire situation. All of our people are upset, and we have to quiet them. Revolutions throughout history have begun with the mob-driven, ignorant voicing of the people to their concerns; first, our Kings, and second, our own Presidents," he takes a long pause before stating the next array of text on his mind. It's obvious he's thinking hard about it, almost reluctant to voice it. "I've recently consulted with the Parliamentary Office of National Defense, and it has been decided, unanimously, that we silence these riots with the only means the people will understand. We are in need of force of arms to convey that the government, the elected members of our Assemblies, are to be respected in their exercise of law-making. I am putting you in charge, Admiral, of suppressing the riots in the south of France, namely our valuable port of Marseilles and our Occitan jewel of Toulouse. Secondly, I will have your fleets move to the Indian Ocean to further disassemble the landless rabble making noise in the streets of Gujarat."

The young Minister paused for a second, shaking his head while letting out a sigh of disgust, "Those damned Indians always causing trouble... Anyhow, you're dismissed; Carry out your instructions as stated, and be sure to send me the weekly reports as is required by Code 11 SS 4."

"Minister, this has gone on for long enough, you can't be serious with..." the Admiral yells, slightly startling the Minister, but is interrupted by the Minister's surprisingly calm voice.

"Admiral, you're not questioning your civilian authorities, now, are you?"

"No, Minister, I will see to it my fleets are prepared and instructions conveyed," the Admiral replied, defeated. He drearily steps out, frustrated with his inability to resist civilian idiocy, and walks towards his office for the night.

Palais Bourbon, Paris

20 Mai, 2016

A crowd forms in front of the Prime Minister's podium set in front of the Palais Bourbon - the seat of the Assemblee Legislative

Outside the Palais Bourbon - the seat of the Assemblee Legislative - stood two columns of Republican Guardsmen, each facing each other. Directly in front of them was the Prime Minister of the Republic, Pierre Jean-Baptiste, standing next to his most trusted friend, the Minister of the Naval Force. They both wore a dark, yet shiny shade of black suit, with burgundy ties to match their wine-red accessories. Below them, standing, was a crowd of Parisian protesters, tired from the incessant unheard voicing of concern.

"On this day, the 20th sunrise of May, in the Year of our Lord 2016, we proclaim an end to the corrupted columns that have attempted to support the weight of the glory of the Alcasian Republic. For years, the Republicans in the Parliamentary seats here in the Palais Bourbon have corrupted the very foundations of the Republic, making the people, you all... very unhappy! They have degraded our way of life, they have degraded our food quality, and they have degraded our economic superiority. Not only have they reluctantly passed laws only with the pressure of me, your Government's Prime Minister, but they have sat idle as they fiddle their thumbs in fear of intervention. They and the English President that has claimed her seat for ten years - ten years too long - are a disease for Alcase, and they have taken their toll. It is in my Government's and I's best interest to declare a state of Emergency, without the English Presidency, and dissolve our youth-like Parliament.

On this day, the 20th sunrise of May, in the Year of our Lord 2016, we proclaim an end to the Hard-Headed Presidential Republic, and our enlightened transition to a better state of living - I, Pierre Jean-Baptiste, your Prime Minister for the last four years, hereby declare myself, with the best interest of the People in mind, and with consent from Her Excellency's Government, as well as consent from you all, the People, Dictator of the Alcasians.

For decades, this title had been tarnished with the rise of Dictatorial regimes in Alcase in the beginning of the twentieth century, but I assure you all that I do not cry Dictator for power! I announce Dictator as Magister Populi, in the name of the People and the Republic!

From this day on, we will no longer point our bayonets towards those we call our brethren in the Continental span of Europe, but instead we will point them outwards, in defense of her Majesty, Europa!"

The crowd below the Prime Minister jeered, they, with the fragmented Republican Guard standing at the doorsteps of the Palais Bourbon, were blessed with the speech issued by his ownself, the Pierre Jean-Baptiste, a long-time politician and socialist-advocate for Alcase, in his ultimate destruction of the Republican structure that has been established since the year of 1950. While the crowd yelled their obscenities and celebrated a potentially-beneficial regime change, the Loyalist Republican Guardsmen raised their weapons, the silver-coated steel barrels of their FAMAS rifles glittering in the rising sun. The defected Republican Guardsmen kept their rifles at bay, but stood in front of the newly-inducted Dictator, their faces unturned in the spirally face of silver.

Half-way across the City of Lights, the President walks out of her office, clearly flustered by the sudden change of power. As she rushes towards her government-appointed bullet-proof vehicle, members of the Republican Guard approach her, state their purpose, and place the woman's hands in restraints. Throughout the city, various government officials meet similar fates, and while some put up a fight, others are more willing; but with their location becoming only a whispered secret.

[Aeuria]

Imperial Palace,
Praevalidus, Aeuria
"Where is he?" Aleksander demanded as he threw the doors of the command center open, a large group of aides and officials accompanying him. "Where is my son?"

The small collection of elderly generals looked surprised to see their monarch, their more youthful subordinates whispering to each other. "Prince Florian was reported to have been at the Presidential Palace last night, Your Majesty." one of the aged generals said, stepping forward.

"I don't know if you've noticed General Baker but there is no more presidential palace. The Prime Minister has dissolved the government and declared himself Dictator. I sincerely hope this isn't coming as news..." the emperor said with a sigh to a shocked looking room. "By the Divines, what the hell are you even doing in here?! I tasked you with monitoring this situation and I'm the one telling you my son could be in the hands of these usurpers?!" he shouted.

"Sir, no one would dare harm Prince Florian - usurper or not. He represents the hallowed bond between Alcase and the Commonwealth." one of the generals interjected, hoping to defuse the increasingly angry Aleksander.

"Alcase is no more!" the emperor screamed, throwing a nearby decanter at the generals. As the decanter met a table's edge and exploded into shards, a lieutenant let out a yelp. "I swear by my blood, if my son is in some forsaken prison or laying dead in a ditch somewhere, you all will be lined up and shot!" Aleksander bellowed in fury, turning on his heels and leaving the room.

A Frumentarius quickly broke from the emperor's group and caught his attention. "Your Majesty, if I might have a moment of your time?"

The Emperor stopped, looking out a nearby window before locking eyes with the man. "What is it?" he demanded.

"We have several teams in Paris - one solely for a situation like this." said the black uniformed officer in a hushed tone. Aleksander looked at the man questioningly. "When His Highness married President Smith, you ordered a team to oversee his protection despite the Alcasians insisting they had it covered. I can start putting things in motion with your word, Sir."

Aleksander stared at the man - had he forgotten that? Looking out the window, he lit a cigarette. Nearby, his entourage began to spread out in the hallway as they waited for their emperor.

"If anonymity is a concern..." the Frumentarius began before Aleksander interrupted.

"Of course not - in fact the opposite is true. I've been reluctant to start meddling in Alcase's internal politics but this has gone on long enough. Regardless of our own open rebellion in Tasmaeseus, the Alcasian situation is no longer one we can afford to ignore. Daniel, get over here!" he called, his communications director quickly making his way to the pair. "Danny, put out a statement condemning the Prime Minister and his dissolving of Parliament. Condemn his actions as nothing less than they are - a coup. I'm calling an emergency session of la Francophonie - inform the Foreign Ministry to get in touch with whomever they need to. From this point on, consider the legitimate government of Alcase to be deposed. Go." he ordered Daniel who quickly ran down the hallway. "Get all of your teams to coordinate in finding my son. I don't give a damn who or what you have to shoot, you bring him back unharmed, oui?" Aleksander ordered roughly.

The Frumentarius nodded, leaving to relay the orders.

[Federal States of Xathuecia]

Xathuecia

Provisional Government Capitol Building, Xoma

"Alcase's government has completely been destroyed. It seems the dominoes have fallen over the world. What should we do Confier? We cannot stand idly by or less. We have to maintain the mask of some sort of functional government!"

"Are you nuts! Are you asking to be killed!? Xathuecia has bigger problems and I will not allow for such a crisis to take my mind away. What is being done Minister? What has the High Commander recommended!?!"

"He is launching several air strikes on targets but we have lost the majority of our available men....."

"How! How could such a thing even occur?"

"General Ain took control of the Southern Army and is marching right now towards us. He holds approximately 150,000 men at his side. The Commander is scrambling to stop him but our resources are too spread out. We need to call the Coalition in to help. If we do not, the rebels will destroy us, we cannot allow for them to seize more land."

"Fine - I will tell Poia. It is nigh time that I speak with Edelreich. Perhaps they can help us before this more blood is spilled among the people."

Coalition Of Independent Headquarters, Xoma

She strode quickly. She had received the Confier's message and as much as she claimed to be neutral, Xathuecia was her home and no such actions would be allowed to penetrate it. Guards surrounded the CIP Headquarters of all nationalities - protecting the organization as chaos loomed outside the property. She stepped out as she saw cameras and people within the small garden space. It was a closed press meeting and rightly so. Chaos had erupted in Xoma over the last few nights and while the government attempted to show an iron fist, the fight was too widespread to be won for now. And that was why the Coalition was needed.

"Hello. I am Secretary-General of the Coalition of Independent Powers, Mrs. Poia Hartl. While I attempted to distance the Coalition and myself as well from what is occurring in Xathuecia, we cannot no longer. The acting head of government, Confier Naval Yugiano has spoken and official has requested the Coalition to intervene for the sake of the people. The plea is being considered and an emergency meeting will be held in Richtenräschen to decide on the correct course of action. I will be staying here in order to maintain a sense of security and solidarity for the country. Deputy Secretary-General, Liqud Olmesht, will be going in my place. I pray that our member states may come together and reassert the peace that has stricken Europe. At this emergency meeting, a response to Alcase's recent revolutions and those in Tasmania will also be created. The meeting wi-"

She was broken off as an explosion could be seen going off in the downtown of Xoma. Several reporters turned and began covering the story. Poia sensed that the order was broken and attempted to calm things.

"Please everyone, sit down. You are safe here and there is no need to pa-"

"THEY ARE DROPPING BOMBS!!!!!"

"GET INSIDE EVERYONE NOW - CODE RED, CODE RED!!!!!"

Guards ushered officials inside as Poia began to weep as she saw fighter planes strike the city knowing that Xathuecia had descended to a place it could not ever bring itself back from....

In the distance, she heard words but payed no attention

"The embassies have been hit by the strikes! We cannot....

Downtown Azuila

Gunfire broke the silence as the men pointed their guns in the air.

"We did it! Long live the General! Long live Ain!"

They let loose more shots as planes flew overhead securing the sky. Tanks rolled over the debris and past the celebrating men crossing into the main square. There was General Ain, perhaps the greatest man to ever live, or at least in the eyes of his men. He stood and leaned over a large table as his tacticians spoke to him.

"Yes, brilliant Uvig! Shrodin, you and Uvig are what are letting us win the war!"

"Of course my general. It is only a matter of time before Xoma falls. The 34,39, and 2 Mechanized Division are all that stand in our way. Fools they are for seeking to destroy the liberals first. Xoma will be ours in mere days!"

"Good...good....but we must be careful. The Confreme is always tricky in his planning.

BFF Centers of Operations, Ljubljana

Out of the doors stepped Von Orgeg. The leader of the Balkan Freedom Fighters was no ordinary man. A true warrior yet an even better politician. While his men suffered a deadlock unable to defeat the Xathuecian men to west - it was just a distraction. The armies were bidding their time, recruiting and inspiring rebellion. Too many Balkan people dared not join for they feared retribution. There was talk of a Coalition intervention but it did not matter. It was too late for Xathuecia. It was a broken state and he already had his plan. Far out of his view yet not out of his knowledge, the Greek armies began to prepare as they were soon to liberate their brethren destroying the country of dictators once and for all....

Neueva Valenci

The group of men and women nodded and shifted their gaze to the President.

"Of course it is right. The only way that we can achieve a victory is by seeking allies. Ones of liberal values like us! How about those of Alcase? Or of New England? The armies descend upon us and we cannot right the wrongs of Xathuecia alone. Is this really a choice?"

"No it isn't! Send a diplomat to Alcase! Their armies and ours shall march and destroy Xathuecia."

"Yes - we do have another issue though.....As much as the Itary has managed to achieve support within the army, the wretched nobility and General Ain have turned away their own number of Xrat's. And they all seem to be eyeing one thing. It is not Xoma but Mancua. It is rumored to be the location of our limited nuclear arsenal."

"Alas, we must take first. Tell the generals - I do not care how many men it takes but no one must lay their hands on those weapons but us and us alone!"

Ligurian Sea

"Yes, uh huh, yep. It has been confirmed. If you are just tuning in, it has just been confirmed that an airplane from Paris, Alcase to Minerosa, Nova Aralia has just disappeared. It not sure what is has happened but as of 20 minutes ago, the plane disappeared over the Ligurian Sea. Initial blame is being focused on the current Xathuecian conflict and - hold on. We have received information of the passengers. Umm, let me see. Ah, it had 55 passengers as well as 12 workers. All 12 workers were Alcasian and 28 passengers. 15 were Aralian with 6 being from Edelreich including one child and 2 Egyptians with 4 Dutch. More news to come as it develops.

[Edelreich]

Coalition Military HQ, Richtenräschen

“So, you’re not sure of the positioning of our forces?”

General Rosengarten sighed, his comrade’s persistence in questioning his personal feelings a heavy weight on his mind. Both men walked down the main corridor of the military office complex, headed in the direction of the board room where they were summoned by the state for a planning session. A session that would be composing a battle plan for Xathuecia. While the coalition was interested in pursuing acts in Tasmania and Alcase, the whisperers and negotiators in the dark knew that fellow members had to come first. An organization such as the Coalition relied on the stability of their peers.

“No,” he finally replied. “I’m not entirely sure that a motion of mass movement into Xathuecia by our forces will actually pay off. It’s too great a cost of life for our boys.” He looked out of the windows they passed by, the courtyard full of incoming officers and nobles from the Reich demanding information personally from the headquarters. “I was always of the opinion that avoiding conflict when possible was a good idea. I figured they taught you restraint at that fancy officer’s school Hahn.”

“And I was of the opinion that having your embassy bombed was a sign of war General.” Hahn retorted in a growl. “We must have a clear response. The world needs to be shown that we do not allow attacks on embassies. Both the Reich and the Coalition must show it.”

The General exhaled deeply, exhausted with the junior officer’s words. “Restraint. Learn it. We need to form a proper plan; I’m just as pissed as you are about these terrorists posing as revolutionaries, but jumping the gun will only result in more needless death. I’m going to be pushing forward a split-operation plan. Divide and conquer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means a multi-prong attack by all of us. If we divide them down the middle, the Balkan rebels will be forced to a single front. That can be exploited. The rest will need to be sized up, but we have other priorities.” He finished, both officers reaching the door to the board room. They walked inside quickly to a hazy collection of aged and smoking individuals, some of the brighter minds of the Reich combined with the rest of the Coalition and turned loose to plan a response.

The collection of men ranged from nearly all Coalition members, every state having the right to attend a military planning procedure with representatives of their forces. Rosengarten made himself at home and tossed a few dossiers on the front of the large desk, taking his seat as an aide fiddled with the projector.

He coughed, taking a cloth to his mouth. “Alright. We’re all up to date on the recent events in Europe; now I know that the Alcasian acts have us all on the uppity-up, but the purpose of this meeting is to focus on our own members. Xathuecia has been compromised and from the news and bombings of embassies obviously doesn’t have the ability to recover. We must see to it that a plan is put in action.”

The aide changed the projected image, the war room tinted a blue and white as a map of Xathuecia came up. He clicked again, changing the image to a scanned newspaper record from Xathuecia’s nuclear weaponry fiasco. “Now this is our most important first step gentlemen. Xathuecia proved to the world just recently that they’re a nuclear state. Quite vocally, but that’s not really important now. What is, is stopping any rebels from seizing control of possibly dangerous weapons. While we don’t have reason to suspect that they would be used outside of Xath, we can’t just let terrorists and rebels occupy weapons of that caliber.”

The aide changed it again, showing a list of operational forces and battle plans drawn over the nation.

“Of course we need to strike quick. The Coalition can not wait for the rest of our members to gather together their forces. Carthage will be responsible for the Mediterranean in order to protect any cargo and to prevent more civilian planes from being shot down. We’ll also be issuing a request that countries consider the sea to be a no-fly zone.” He paused, opening up a dossier and handing it to the aide to scan in. “But our main form of action is going to come from the Edelreich directly. The UK isn’t likely to do much with the Alcasian’s regime now in full swing… and apparently against them. So it comes down to German forces operating under the Coalition to make the first land-based move. We need to secure these nuclear weapons.”

The projector turned off and the lights returned to their normal hue, the staff meeting shielding their eyes from the sudden change. “So that’s our course of action. Still, we’ll all have to wait for the legislatures to hold their meeting before we can really get the move on. Until now, I’ll start mobilizing what I can in order to anticipate these traitors.”

Chancellor’s Office, Richtenräschen

The collection of cabinet members were not an unusual sight for the people who worked in the offices of the Chancellery. In fact they were often there, perhaps not all at once, but instead in steady groups or own their own as they petitioned Tillich for support in their domestic decisions. The planning done there was generally smooth and friendly; the cabinet having fortunately been spared the annoyances of politics that previous iterations had.

Yet it was rather different to have the Kaiser present for the session itself. While the Minister of the Kaiserreich was always present and rather clearly represented the desires and demands of the monarch, the constitutional and democratic barriers that be were traditionally poised to be against any admission of the Kaiser on the Chancellery’s grounds. Not out of disrespect for the system, but purely in order to isolate the influence that he had from the most important of democratic functions in the state.

The cabinet sat in session, a live news service in the Edelreich recounting the imagery of the Alcasian revolution and the regime change being the foremost of talked about events in the world right now. Surely the Aeurians would be upset; the news had reported that the Imperial Commonwealth pushed for a Francophonie summit. No doubt the Coalition would be forming; a short snippet from the Secretary-General’s speech being played. Even the English were likely to do something; the newscasters pondering in their usual sensationalist media-driven ways about the rest of the world.

However right now the world didn’t matter to the individuals inside the situation room. This was the time for Edelreich to begin forming their responses. The silent Central European empire could not remain so when death was on Europe’s door. They watched the news for a few seconds longer until Tillich broke the silence.

“This has went from unexpected to hellish in only a few days. Imagine what a week or month would bring.”

“Precisely why we must do something,” Lindauer said adamantly. “The state of Europe is being crushed by a revolutionary boot driven by foreign interests. Alcase’s colonies are not European; they have no respect for our way of life. Our customs are ignored.”

Pasche, the Minister of Family and Culture, smiled in agreement. “Lindauer is right.” She followed quickly. “Alcase should have better managed their foreign colonies. This is their fault and they’ve put Europe at harm. Our colonies have been stable for centuries and never caused trouble like this for the world.”

“Our colonies were founded on genocide!” The Minister of Education, Neuhaeusser, blurted out. “We can scarcely consider ourselves to be in the morally right when we’re only spared this issue because our forefathers decided murder was a better shade of diplomacy.”

“And consumer confidence is already dropping rapidly.” The Commerce Minister melodramatically groaned.

“Enough!” The Kaiser yelled, hitting his hand on the table as a follow-through. “We’re not having this problem, are we? No, Alcase is. So let’s try to remain focused on them.”

The cabinet was quiet for a few seconds before Lindauer spoke again. “Clearly the golden pillars of Europe are being chiseled away by this nonsense. Alcase has changed their government seemingly against the wishes of the people.”

“Yet are arguing that it’s for the people. Strange, huh?” Bott remarked. “It’s almost as if both sides think they’re in the right here.”

“What’s even stranger is that the new regime under the minister - or dictator I guess - is rather focused on maintaining the security of Europe.” The Kaiser said idly. “It’s annoying rather, but curious. I have always based my actions with Europe as a whole on the same merits. It’s almost as if he’s copying me; or at least trying to win some sentiment here by following such.”

The Cabinet paused, some members agreeing about the similarities there. “Let’s not forget that he’s also a horrible culturalist and racist.” Bott said. “Watching him sneer at the mention of the English and the Anglican President was rather disgusting.”

“We’re all culturalists Minister. Just some more than others.” Mathias scanned the room, watching the cabinet argue and shoot glares across the room with no clear end in sight. The Reich was frozen. “What we need, Ministers and Chancellor, is a proper reaction that shows our belief. Alcase isn’t in the Coalition, so we don’t have legislation holding our response out of the light. Either we support or denounce the new change.”

“Aeuria has sided against the change, might I add Your Majesty. While we can not ensure that the dictatorship will promote our interests forever, we do have reason to assume they’ll be against Aeurian interests.”

Tillich shook her head. “But this also shows that Aeuria is becoming more involved in European affairs, even if they don’t want to. We’re being pulled out of this status quo just as fast as the Great War did.”

“Well,” Lindauer responded. “We must do something. Either support or denounce like His Majesty said.”

The cabinet went unorganized once more, some of the ministers merely repeating the Kaiser’s words aloud as he watched their debate with vested interest. His own views were becoming more clear. “Alright, look.” He spoke again. “We know that the Alcasian Republic was horribly biased towards Aeuria. They kept tossing the world under a rotating heel of Aeurian-Alcasian arrogance and their generosity only expanded to other fellow French states. This dictatorship seems to be heavily ratified around their culture and while it’s against the republican ideals there, we can’t ignore the likelihood of them persisting as a nation. Think about it like this: the Republic liked Aeuria, the new regime has no reason to. In fact, they should hate them. However we have reason to fear this Baptiste fellow; he will likely prove an annoyance for both the Tommies and us.” The Kaiser paused, looking over at the Chancellor that sat across from him. “You were worried about the Aeurians?”

“Yes?”

“Well be worried about the Alcasians instead. Surely without their Aeurian counterparts ensuring their crony relationship continues, the government will turn to aggressive maneuvers against their people and colonies. Surely this will evolve into attacking other European states. We face a war here, but the advantage is on our side. If we support the Baptiste government, then there is no reason for Aeuria to be involved with the fate of the French. We will handle them alone if it comes down to it.”

“So what do we do?” Lindauer and Tillich asked simultaneously.

“We recognize the acts of Minister Pierre Jean-Baptiste as legal...”

[The United Isles of Britain]

The Monarch's Planning Room, Buckingham Palace
The Monarch's Planning Room is located deep within Buckingham Palace and is one of the most confidential and important places in the entire country. Some of the most important decisions and actions made by the United Isles were planned and agreed upon within the confines of this space. Unless directly specified or permitted, nothing said or spoken within that room is allowed to leave it, violating the oath of confidentiality sworn by all those who enter the room is considered treason. The room itself was an extensive library mirroring the royal library that also sat within Buckingham Palace, with any possible resource needed by the monarch or his advisers directly available whenever they would need it.

"The uprisings across the Alcasian Empire have generated an increasing amount of concern among the Commonwealth Realms Your Highness." Said the Minister of Foreign Affairs taking his seat at the Planning Room's meeting table. "We have yet to send them a recommendation on a course of action, making them feel rather isolated."

"The riots are growing increasingly volatile and aggressive, the Realms are right to be concerned." William said looking over a report on the Commonwealth Realm's opinions on the rebellions. "It's become abundantly clear that the Alcasians are in no position to quell the rioters themselves, they may even try to enact article seven for the Francophone nations."

"The defensive pact? I suppose if the situation within the empire gets that desperate they would try it." said the Minister of Defense handing a report on the current situation in Europe. "I doubt it would go over swimmingly with the member nations however."

"I agree, I doubt it will sit well with the Canucks." Said the Prime Minister leaning back and crossing his arms. "Parliament has made itself very clear on Alcase, they do not want to get involved unless it proves absolutely necessary, especially now that the situation is becoming very messy."

"Probably for the best." William said moving his attention to the Minister of Defense's report. "We should instruct the Commonwealth to do the same and to act when necessary." he said as he began to look at the report on Xathuecia. "That can't be good."

"The Xaths ripping themselves apart? No, not in the slightest." said the Minister of Defense. "In addition to this, they have nuclear weapons. We can not allow the rebels to get a hold on them."

"I agree, and surely the rest of Europe knows this." said the Prime Minister. "Rebels with the bomb could spell disaster for the entire region."

"Right, but I don't think the Xathuecian government will just allow us move them to safety even in their current situation." William said sitting down after skimming through the defense report. "We'll need support of another nation, then a way to secure the nukes quietly and quickly before the rebels get to them."

"The Edelreich perhaps?" the Minister of Foreign Affairs commented after a few moments of silence within the room.

"Do you think they'll go for it?" the Prime Minister said in a concerned tone.

"They'll want a sound plan for it first. Once we do have it, we'll should send our thoughts on the matter before sending the plans." the Minister of Defense commented.

"I agree. Time is limited however, so we need a plan ready for review." William said closing the defense report. "I will send something to the Kaiser of our growing concern over the nukes. Are we in agreement?"

[Alcase]

A Continent in Crisis

Place de la République from above

---

La République Alcasienne

25 Mai, 2016

---

It was a calmed day in Alcase, several days following the toppling of Parliament's increasingly conservative rule over the Republic that led the people to riot, the streets of Paris were relatively quiet. The new dictatorship of Pierre Jean-Baptiste demonstrated a quick fix to an inflated issue; the issue of Democracy. Democracy was slow and inefficient, and its facade simply worsened the peoples' livelihoods. While elections seemed democratic, they were grossly undemocratic, with party leaders simply choosing preferred Parliamentary candidates to run instead of the elections' determining who would hold the seat. Prime Minister Jean-Baptiste, utilizing the absolute power granted to him by his small-scale coup d'etat, initiated sweeping reforms that included economic revamping, social service subsidization, educational programs, and a contrastingly large-scale government "purging" operation. Included in the purge was the President herself and her husband, to whom was married by the Aeurian state.

Place de la République, Paris

"THIS MAN HERE REPRESENTS THE CORRUPTED PULL OF AEURIA'S OVER-EXTENDED TENTACLES WRAPPING THEMSELVES AROUND THE ALCASIAN STATE," the Executioner screamed, almost alarming the crowd that had gathered in front of the execution site. "NOT ONLY HAD HIS WIFE AND OUR FORMER PRESIDENT, ANGELE SMITH, THAT ANGLICAN BASTARD, FLEED THE NATION, BUT THEY HAVE BEEN CONSPIRING WITH THE AEURIAN COMMONWEALTH IN PURSUIT OF THEIR PROSPERITY, AT THE EXPENSE OF THE EUROPEAN CONTINENT'S OWN HUGE SUCCESSES!"

"El Tres de Mayo" by Francisco de Goya

The crowd was riling up, many fists were in the air, and almost all of them were holding a white or navy blue flower to represent their support for the new regime change. The crowd sat in front of a row of 5 Alcasian Republican Guardsmen, each with two rounds of 5.56x45 bullets chambered in their FAMAS rifles. They had their rifles shouldered, not having been given the order to aim or raise their arms. Overseeing everything was a man dressed in all black and trimmed golden suit attire. This man was Dictator Pierre Jean Baptiste, retaining his blood-soaked title in efforts to pacify its connotation. He viewed the riflemen with disgust, hating the look of the FAMAS rifle that had served the Alcasian Armed Forces since the early 1970s. He favored the extremely more powerful, ergonomic, and reliable bull-pups of the Edelreich rifle company AUG, whose rifles had been proven time and time again to perform with exceptional quality in many special forces acts across the world. Nonetheless, he agreed with the Government's decision to execute the cowardly President's husband, believing him to be the anchor that Alcase needed to throw over in order to extinguish the Aeurian flame engulfing Alcasian foreign policy.

The truth was simple; Europe needed to be independent, and it needed to dominate, that was what God would want, and what the European nations should fight for.

Prince Florian lay on his knees, humiliated in front of tens of hundreds of Parisians. His marriage had been a political ploy to draw Alcase and Aeuria further together, but in the end of everything, it seemed that their marriage is what will define the axe severing Aeuria's flag hoist over Alcase.

CORRESPONDENCE TO HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY MATHIAS II, THE NOBLEST CAESAR OF EDELREICH

To Whom it May Concern in the Imperial Seat,

The Alcasian State has no quarrel with the Empire of Edelreich, and we are pleased to hear of your support for the Prime Minister. I would propose to your Emperor a special delegation of Imperial authority over Affairs concerning the Realm of Edelreich convene in Strasbourg, Alsace, in order to discuss matters of high importance to both our national interests.

Your prompt reply will be greatly appreciated

Sincerely Yours,
Henri Velci, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Alcasian Continental State

SIGNED WITH APPROVAL OF THE DICTATOR OF THE ALCASIAN STATE, Pierre Jean-Baptiste

Marseille, Provence

"Officer on deck!" yelled the Contre-Amiral as he witnessed the Amiral de Flotte-Méditerranéen walk into the Command suite of the Aircraft carrier Charles de Gualle, Alcase's oldest serving and her first nuclear-powered aircraft carrying vessel. All the seamen, including officers and civilian deck personnel saluted, having stopped what they were doing.

"Carry on, men, but listen," he began, scratching his reddened bald head, "We've received word from-" he was interrupted by the abrupt movement of clothing shifting fast from standing to a sitting position; the seamen had resumed their activity, quite loudly and obnoxiously.

"We've received word from Paris that Xathuecian rebels are a threat that needs to be taken out. It's not an all-out invasion, so we've got to be quiet and under the guise of a "peace-keeping" force if we do get caught out there. Central Command has Armee de Terre forces awaiting on high alert in case we've got to make a few more bangs to get the rebels quiet. But what we need is to take out all anti-Air positions and establish a no fly zone over the region, as well as escort passenger planes to safety. Have these plans relayed to the fleet, we depart in 48 hours."

With that, communications officers picked up their radios and relayed the information to all other ships of the fleet, which included another air craft carrier, an amphibious assault carrier, several ICBM/Anti-air corvettes, and a few auxiliary maintenance vessels. The Mediterranean fleet had always been the smallest of the bunch, not having much of a mission to patrol anything since the waters were relatively quiet and peaceful. Now, it seemed that the Mediterranean fleet might just need an update.

Couronne des Palais, Agra, Inde

The Taj Mahal

At the site of one of the most extraordinary and magnificent museums in the world, the meeting of four largely influential people was made on this day, the 25th of May. Discussing secretive issues were four people who had escaped chaos and found their way to the most beautiful museum of Alcase's overseas territories, constructed by a Mughal emperor for his deceased wife. Its sanction was procured during Alcase's struggling domination for the Indian subcontinent when the (technically) native Mughals were undergoing politico-economic influence inundation by the competing imperialistic powers of Alcase, Aralia, and the British.

While this fortress served for years as a burial palace, military fort, mosque, and finally a museum dedicated to the preservation of Indian history, today it serves as a meeting place to discuss the increasingly dire situation of Alcase and the Indian collectivity of the Republic. While the Parisians were finally calm, the Indians were not; the Dictator Pierre Jean-Baptiste had not acted fast enough to secure his popularity in India, and so many Loyalists were now emigrating to the subcontinent. This placed further strain on the already red-hot tension between the Roman Catholic southerners and the Muslim/Hindu natives of the northern provinces. Ousted President Angéle Smith, Fleet Admiral Charles Louis-Rafale, Ummah Rehnuma Faran al-Mughal, and Hindu Nationalist Party leader Saman Tsering met on the outskirts of the museum, inside a coffee shop. Their profile was kept low, but their discussion consisted of high-profile actions and plans. Surrounding them were loyalist Republican guardsmen, having abandoned their uniforms and opted instead to dress like lightly-armed locals, they remained strongly adhered to the Presidency and swore to protect Her Excellency until a new government could be established and beyond. The discussion between the four very-important-people including the construction of a new state in India, one to counteract the coup d'etat carried out by Prime Minister Pierre Jean-Baptiste and to oppose his allies. While their conversation would not be heard across the subcontinent, its effects will ripple throughout the Indian Ocean.

[Aeuria]

Place de la République, Paris
The 12 man team slowly slithered their way to the front of the increasingly emotional crowd. As the executioner made a spectacle, Alcase's new leader looked on with a stoic expression. The crowd screamed and yelled abuse at Prince Florian as he lay on his knees.

Colonel Atticus Flavius and his men were dressed in civilian clothing, carrying flowers of their own and giving the occasional yell. Colonel Flavius nervously wrapped his hand around the grip of the fully-automatic Tec-9 well-hidden under his sports coat. He knew he and his men only had one chance to save the prince and the cost of failure would be an unstoppable global war. Were Florian to die, he would be the first Imperial Prince to be executed by a foreign state and the second member of the Imperial Family to die in 2 years. Flavius had no intention of allowing Florian's legacy to be define by his death.

Pushing through the crowd, the rest of the Frumentarii were in position; spread out in a semi-circle near the front of the crowd. Prince Florian knelled with a no expression on his face. As the torrent of abuse reached his ears, he did not react. In fact, he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. He had accepted his fate, no longer having any control. However, he found comfort in knowing those assembled in front of him would likely die in the bombing of Paris that would undoubtedly follow his execution. The Prince let out a small laugh, thinking about the grand city that was once his home in flames.

Colonel Flavius scanned the crowd, meeting the eyes of his men as he located them amongst the Alcasian civilians. He nodded to his men before returning his attention to the Prince. "A shame." he thought as he looked at Jean-Baptiste, unhappy his orders did not include the dictator's assassination. "This will make it okay though." he said quietly as he ripped his gun from its holster, firing into the backs of those in front of him.

As screams and gunshots erupted, several of the Frumentarii focused their fire on the Republican Guardsmen and those surrounding Prince Florian as they ran to him. The nonstop, automatic gunfire threw the crowd into a panic, the Alcasian dictator being removed by his security almost immediately. "Move! Get to the Prince!" Flavius yelled as loud as he could, struggling to be heard over his comrades' guns. Across the plaza, one of his men was shot in the neck, collapsing immediately.

Florian had since laid flat and rolled off the small platform that was to mark his death, his hands and feet still awkwardly bound. "Help! Help me!" he screamed, knowing the gunmen had to be friendly.

Firing into a group of civilians, a Frumentarius made a beeline to the constrained Prince. "Don't move sir!" he barked, ripping a knife from its sheath as he cut his bindings. "Stay close to me and don't stop moving!"

Florian nodded, familiar but inexperienced in personal combat operations. His talents were usually made use of in the bridge of an aircraft carrier or at the Imperial Naval Command. Up until a few days ago however, he was playing husband to Alcase's President Smith.

Flavius reloaded his gun as he crouched by a dead Alcasian. This op was getting to be too costly. Already he saw too many civilian causalities but his thoughts were interrupted as he saw one of his men running with Prince Florian out of the park.

"On Damien!" he shouted, his men breaking away and beginning a sprint towards the fleeing Prince and Frumentarius. "Do not stop firing!" the Colonel continued, firing wildly at a policeman.

The Place de la République had turned from a revolutionary execution to a blood-soaked venue, dead and half-alive Alcasians laying immobile in pools of blood. The Frumentarii's plan was simple; cause chaos by shooting the crowds and guards in coordinated volleys, grab the Prince, and disappear into the fleeing crowd. Outside of more Alcasian collateral damage and a casualty, their plan was working.

Having dropped their guns and shed their outerwear, the Aeurians could likely still be identified by police not to speak of Prince Florian - for the moment, Alcase's public enemy number one. The Frumentarii surrounded him in a human shield as they ran with the fleeing crowds.

[Edelreich]

Grand Purple Hotel,
Richtenräschen, Edelreich

“There are reports of a terror attack in Alcase, sir.” The officer said, standing outside the entrance to the Kaiser’s private room. Since the situation in Alcase and Xathuecia was constantly on his mind, the German Emperor elected to stay close by the Chancellery and through that the cabinet and government of the state. His intentions were to obviously steer the political discourse and decision-making of his nation and if war was considered a necessity, then be there to press the button himself.

Of course, the matter came up quickly of where Mathias would stay. Normally the City Palace was a clear choice for him, but the Royal Family had just moved out prior for the spring and summer months, back to their northern heritage castle which was quite a drive each day; and the Chancellery needed to function in their offices or at the capital, they couldn’t afford to relocate under the Emperor’s pleasure.

So it was that the Kaiser was given and provided a room at the Grand Purple Hotel, a luxurious five-star enterprise that had housed many foreign diplomats and kings prior. Richtenräschen was a major financial center and political capital for Europe, equal to the likes of Paris and London, so it was common for the most grandeur of hotels to be present in the ‘Kaiserstadt’, the imperial city that coursed with the lifeblood of the German peoples.

He rubbed his eyes and looked past the officer, seeing Erwin Lindauer and Sebastian Bott just a slight way further down the hall. They were beginning to become regular acquaintances of the Kaiser by this point, something that both irritated him and made his life easier. “Come in,” he said groggily and solemn, having hoped for the remainder of his day to be free of issues. Clearly that wouldn’t be the case.

“The attack is still ongoing according to the Alcasian sources we have.” The officer walked over quickly and turned on the TV, switching to a news station that was relaying Alcasian news regarding the event. “As you can see, the perpetrators haven’t been caught.” Both of the Ministers quickly entered and closed the door behind them, a guard standing watch by it while they observed the situation on the screen.

An execution gone wrong. That’s what Mathias initially saw as he watched the German newscaster relay the reports from the sources in Alcase. Local cellphone footage was recovered from nearby spectators, showing a group of armed gunmen storming the platform and rescuing… Prince Florian. “Why was I not informed,” he said sternly, a pulsation of anger building inside of him, “That Prince Florian was held captive by the Alcasian government? Is this not important information that the god damn Kaiser should know?!”

“Your Majesty we only learned recently of the capture of Prince Florian.” Bott spoke on their defense. “Until just now we had believed Florian to be safely outside of the country. In fact, we believed that Aeuria already recalled him. This is just as surprising to us as it is to you sir.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting? My own cabinet knows just as little as me; the eyes and ears of the state are just as unaware as the fucking bums roaming the street!” He cursed and continued cursing, the Ministers taken aback by the usually reserved and indignant approach that the Kaiser took to voicing his concerns. They remained quiet as he paced around the room, stopping to watch the attack’s beginning rerun on the TV. “It’s too organized.” He sighed. “This can’t be the Xathuecians. Sure, they’re wearing normal clothes, but look how they act.”

“Sir. Minister Lindauer already has some speculation on their origin.”

“Yes. My Ministry has been hard at work placing the origin of these men. We agree with you, it’s much too organized to just be some terrorist group. And way too coincidental; the Alcasians were about to execute the Prince then they swoop in as heroes and kidnap him?”

Mathias nodded along, exhaling again at the understanding Lindauer was pushing for. “So… it’s the Aeurians and their damned Frumentarii?”

“While we don’t have concrete evidence yet and are riding off of speculation only - yes sir, it appears to be the work of Aeuria. Rather unusually public for them.”

“Then we know for sure that they’ve turned against the Alcasian regime. A regime who had just attempted to murder in cold blood an individual of noble birth.” He paused and looked back to the windows, watching the clouds pass as he gazed on, as if in thought regarding his position on the subject.

“Sir?”

“The Alcasian Regime may be recognized as a lawful authority by us, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be condoning such… such… syndicalistic acts to be perpetrated by them. While we and the Aeurians have plenty of disagreements, the affront to moral decency by trying to sentence one of them to death is despicable. This isn’t the right way.”

The ministers nodded, somewhat surprised at their liege's sympathy for the Aeurian Prince. “What shall we do then Your Majesty?”

“Send a message directly to Aleksander. Say that it’s from me personally. Explain to him that my administration does not condone the actions of the Alcasian Regime under Jean-Baptiste - we will not be known for supporting a nation that would savagely take the life of a noble without even attempting a course of fair trial or extradition. Both Prince Florian and he himself have my utmost sympathies with what has surely been an indication of the nature of the President-Dictator and what he views of all born in nobility.”

“Very well sir,” Minister Bott said quickly. He reached into his coat and pulled a letter out, offering it to Mathias and recoiling as he quickly grabbed it. “There is one more matter to bring to your attention. The new Alcasian Government has requested an imperial presence to negotiate with them in Strasbourg.”

“Elsass-Lothringen?” The Kaiser asked incredulously, quickly reading over the letter. “Of course; they want to bring legitimacy to their government and probably attempt corrupting us with offers of Pan-European policies in return for our support.” He folded the letter and returned it back to the Minister. “Very well. We do recognize them as a lawful authority. At the very least we will allow them a forum to speak with us as we would any other state, however what they intend to present and offer will be the main interest of our participation. Minister Bott, I would like to you be the one to represent us. Take whatever diplomatic staff you have; respond to the letter in the morning and leave for Strasbourg.”

“At once Your Majesty.”

[Federal States of Xathuecia]

Xathuecia

Xoma

“Sir, you need to leave! Amin will be here soon and he will not hesitate to slaughter the government! The Confier is already mere minutes from entering Edelian airspace. He will be safe there and the Xrat Commander is already leading an army to destroy the Liberals. But if you allow the government to fall here in Xoma, Amin would have a symbolic victory.”

“I cannot leave. Do you know what the official duties are of the Yariliment Speaker. They are to 'secure the government remains in democratic function’ and I will not allow for some general to topple a government that has stood longer than he has lived!”

“Stay then. I am taking the government with me. Make your speeches and speak of great Xathuecian victories just on the cusp of its fall. But to one Xathu his own.”

The Minister of the Homeland left the room as the Speaker looked outside through his window. He shook his head as he turned around one last time. The thing was the Speaker had forgotten one quick detail. The Minister had long been an Independent but not before being an Itarian. And he had never lost his contacts. He knew that he would receive a position in the new government that was mustering but first he had to deliver the old one into the arms of fighters. He cared not for them, they all were but hypocrites and killers. This new leader, Amin, would not allow for such disparities to occur.

Pesvara

The doors of the chamber burst open. Guards lifted their guns and prepared to fire on the command of their xord but he lifted his palm. It was not an intruder, just a messenger.

"Xord Navam. One of the General's men has delivered this:"

Hello nobles. I have no time for silly formalities so I have written to you personally. The leader of your faction, the Xord Ariel, is a Frenchman! And while you may be scratching your heads on why I bring such an obvious fact up is that I have it on a great account that Alcase has begun moving troops towards Xathuecia. We do not know how many but we do know this. Their dictator, I believe and my advisers as well, is planning to take the nation while our strife continues. Xord Ariel is sure to be helping them, securing his homeland's wishes before his actual home's! You hold at your side the most men. You are the fighter of your nobility and you are the reason they have battles. But if we allow for such differences to divide us, we will only see ourselves falling ever more. I am on the cusp of taking Xoma and you must join. Consider this a foreshadow of what is to come.

Xord Navam leaned back in his chair. He was seated with his strategists and his sons. The youngest was just two and had just began to learn new words.

"Seems simple enough then. I will handle Ariel's deposition. Link our armies with those of Amin. I have made my decision."

"Are you sure sir? Could he not be tricking us?'

"No, no, no. I have it that he is spreading this news. He is uniting Xathuecia around him. Plus, my informants tell me he is planning something quite, Latin, if I had to call it something."

"It's settle then. Also, tell Xord Menac to move his ships. Bulgaria has entered Xathuecia and we will make them pay. Those poor Balkan fighters will be dead soon."

Xathuecian-Edelian Airspace Border

"Identify yourselves now! We are carrying the Confier of Xathuecia and acting head of government."

"We don't give a damn. General Sagastein just took the Northern forces and swore loyalty to Amin. But of course you wouldn't know because all the government wants to do is flee! So eat our missiles!"

"Defensive positions, Phoenix 3, sacrifice yourself now!"

A missile hit the plane as it swung deflecting the explosion from the plane but crashing into a Xathuecian field.

"Phoenix 2, do the same!"

Two more missiles were blocked as the second defense plane went down crashing into the center square of an Edelian border town.

"You have run out haven't you? Your planes are gone now so get ready Mr. Confier!"

"If you do this, you will have fired into Edelian airspace. Don't do this!"

"Too bad we don't care. The Edelians won't care either - too focused on Alcase so good-bye Confier - say hi to the Confreme will ya? Oh wait, you still think he is alive. Oh well, you'll be dead too."

The six fighters attacked the plane as it went down exploding before it reached the ground sending shock waves into the cities and towns below.

[Edelreich]

Grand Purple Hotel,
Richtenräschen, Edelreich

“The General is on the phone, Your Majesty.” The Aide said quietly to the Kaiser who was sitting idle on his bed. Nearly thirty minutes prior the room was bustling with commotion as a ragtag collection of available diplomats and officers attempted to make headway towards understanding what happened. They received periodic reports, a farm town on fire and a city being rained on by plane parts. All from the Xathuecians.

Minister Lindauer had already left, making his way back down to his office where an emergency meeting with the military was in effect. Until that came through, the Kaiser was to be specifically updated with all new information by General von Merz, the Heer’s Chief of Staff, personally and without tarry. The news of the evening had brought the Kaiser to the breaking point; his desire to work things out with the surrounding nations now greatly diminished as news of possible German deaths reached him.

He grabbed the phone incensed and held it to his ear. “General von Merz, for your sake I hope you have some solid news.”

“I do Your Majesty. Just got off the phone with the local police and the border guard.”

“Tell me.” Mathias interrupted.

“The border guard reports that there was a confrontation by members of the Xathuecian air force and rogue forces of the rebels over our airspace. What chatter we intercepted seemed to indicate the Confier was onboard. He intended to seek asylum here.”

Mathias exhaled, his brow furrowed as the aides and officers present watched on. “What’s the damage? What happened?”

“One of the jets crashed down on a small farming community. I believe it was Eekren. The fire department was late to arrive; estimated body count at 8. Could be more.”

“And the rest von Merz?”

“The Confier’s private jet went down in Kapfenrau. We’re still trying to ascertain damage, but so far another 24 died. Hit an apartment complex I heard.”

“32 of our people dead…” The Kaiser said with a shallow voice, having been hoping for the best. He gulped and then frowned, his blood rushing to his face. “General, I want you to do whatever it takes. Not another civilian casualty. You have my permission.”

“Thank you sir.”

Ministry of War

The General sat the phone down heavily and looked mournfully towards the report he read off. The rest of the Chiefs of Staff sat with solemn eyes, their gazes down towards the table. Eventually Lindauer looked up, sniffing loudly. “What did the Kaiser say?”

“Full permission.”

“So it begins…” The Minister looked down at his copy of the report and pushed it aside, an under-officer opening up a projection of northern Xathuecia. “General von Merz; take whatever forces are ready on the border and advance into the north. Secure the roads and bridges connecting to us immediately, then begin pacifying the nearest civilian centers. Send out a call for our forces and reinforce the border pending reinforcements.” He turned to look at the General of the Luftstreitkräfte. “Sir, you will begin bombing raids at once. Avoid civilian casualties to the best of your ability, but your duty is to destroy any insurrectionist stronghold. Collaborate with the ground forces. Kill everything that resists. Do not show mercy gentlemen, they gave none to us.”

Edelreich-Xathuecian Border

The 27th Armored Regiment, which to the men attached seemed to be destined to forever watch the borders of the south, received the call immediately. A soldier hurriedly ran down the rows of their prepared armored battalions and supporting infantry units, arriving at where the officers of the Regiment were holding a game of cards. Among them was Oberstleutnant von Rauenzauch, one of the first officers to assist in the Balkans campaign and a decorated war hero because of it.

The Oberst was the first to stand up from the table and received the transcribed orders from the soldier. He read them off and looked back at his under-officers, yelling for them to get to their stations and prepare to move out. Von Rauenzach was the first to enter their command tank and crawled inside to a curious crew, each prying him for information.

“It’s about damn time,” he said confidently. “We should’ve taken the fight to those Xaths weeks ago over this.” After a few minutes of final preparations he assumed his position at the Column A tank line and placed his headset on; in time to hear the commanding officer yelling for the troops to attack.

All across the border a similar thing was happening. Sleeping soldiers and vigilant guards were ordered into position and delivered battle instructions by the Ministry of War and signed by the highest authority of the land, sent off in their units to cross the border and invade the rebel-infested Xathuecian state. The border, which had been reinforced since the southern government effectively collapsed, rumbled with the movement of tanks and armored regiments, a fleet of vehicles and assault teams trampling the once defined line of the border in order to decimate and claim their revenge.

On the advance, the attacking units radioed in their coordinates and relayed them to the Luftstreitkräfte, whose planes enveloped the land in fire and bombing runs to secure a stable path for the German military.

[Allied Merchant Republics]

An assembly of the Parliament of the Commonwealth of Allied Merchant Republics had just ended.

Terror and fury had struck many citizens. Alcase was falling, tyrants stepping up in a wake of destruction. Fire and blood filled the streets of this once great nation. Colonies continued to rebel, anarchy had descended where totalitarianism had not. An act of desperation had become a full fledged crisis.

The Allied Merchant Republics had long aspired to avoid conflict. Colonies under threat and trade routes made vulnerable were rarely worth the meagre gains the AMR could make in such a conflict. But this disaster had gone on long enough. Alcase was in turmoil, with unrest spreading across the globe. And with a iron-fisted government now in control, the Allied Merchant Republics could face the possibility of a direct mainland invasion.

Debate was fierce and furious. Emotions seemed to prevail over logic, as few were able to remain entirely rational given recent events. The decision was highly contested. Seemingly hundreds of arguments for and against were made. The parliament was in uproar, and with that anger came immense spite and fury, but also great sadness and misery.

In the end, the decision was made. The Allied Merchant Republics could not allow its nearest, and indeed closest, neighbour to fall to the terrors of dictatorship. The Commonwealth of Allied Merchant Republics refused to recognise the acts of Perre Jean Baptiste as legal.

However, despite this, there was little the Allied Merchant Republics could do about the situation. Any attempt at direct intervention would be met with utter failure, likely followed by Alcasian assaults. The Dutch Free Army may have been well trained and equipped, but it didn't have the numbers to hold against a giant like Alcase. Soldiers were called to strategic defensive positions near the border, and the Dutch Free Air Force was put on alert. Colonial forces were warned about the possibility of attack, but it was unlikely that the Alcasians would try to launch an assault here when they still had problems to deal with in their home territory. Afrikaaland and Sydvinland were safe- or at least that was hoped.

The Dutch had done everything they could to fortify against any possible attacks. It was hoped that these measures would not be necessary at all. But hope could never supplant reality. The Allied Merchant Republics was now in a dangerous situation, and the Dutch would not take any unnecessary risks that might further endanger the safety of their nation.

[Edelreich]

TO: MINISTER BOTT

THE DUTCH ARE WORRIED ABOUT THE ALCASIAN GOVERNMENT. I WAS ASSURED THAT PARLIAMENT HAD IT HANDLED BUT THE CHAMBERS WERE REPORTEDLY A MESS. SEEMS THAT THEY DON’T HAVE A PROPER RESPONSE OTHER THAN TO REFUSE RECOGNITION. HOW DO WE APPROACH THIS?

AMBASSADOR RICHTER

TO: AMBASSADOR RICHTER

MINISTER BOTT IS CURRENTLY ON BUSINESS IN STRASBOURG. THE MINISTRY HAS BEEN UNDER HIS MAJESTY’S JURISDICTION SINCE. HIS MAJESTY WAS MADE AWARE OF THE SITUATION AND HAS MADE A UNANIMOUS DECISION WITH BOTH CHANCELLOR AND CABINET TO APPROACH THIS WITH CARE. ENCLOSED ARE INSTRUCTIONS TO BE FOLLOWED AND FORMED INTO A FORMAL OFFER TO THE DUTCH.

UNDER-MINISTER NEUMANN

Empire of Edelreich
Ministry of Foreign Affairs

To: National Governor Anton Rien-Koole and Minister Walter Baardsson

Gentlemen, I was recently made aware of His Majesty the Kaiser’s support and understanding of your reluctance against the new Alcasian government under Pierre Jean-Baptiste. The government overwhelmingly shares his opinion that the situation here in Europe is quickly falling through our fingers and unless the nations of the continent stand together as brothers, than we may risk losing Europe to a new dark age.

As you are surely aware, the policies and opinions of His Majesty have always followed in kind with the Allied Merchant Republics’ sentiments of protecting and continuing the growth of democracy and defending the ideals of freedom and liberty from tyrannical forces. His Majesty’s Government has worked long and hard since the Great War to protect the institutions of democracy in Europe and abroad and the notion of a nationalistic dictatorship rising up in a nation that borders both of us is an affront to all sensibilities.

As such His Majesty would like to extend an offer of friendship to you in the form of an olive branch that would guarantee your national sovereignty and right of self-determination if in the event of an Alcasian invasion. Specifically, His Majesty wishes to convey that now is the time for the Germanic peoples of Europe to unite in order to protect our beloved foundations and prevent our societies from coming under attack. If willing, the Empire of the Edelreich will protect and secure the independence of the your government in the case of war.

God be with us,

Ambassador Albert Richter

[Federal States of Xathuecia]

The Roman Republic of Xathuecia

Xoma

The city had been won. Amin had expected the defenses to be strong and for the city to come with a costly victory but it hadn't. All of the men had been situated miles outside the city and it had been a slaughter. That was the problem with the old Xathuecia he thought, Too much caution and tribulations blocking real actions. The fleeing government had fallen right into the hands of the Northern troops led by the Liberals. The Liberals had essentially been broken. Those holding Valenci had been slaughtered with the remaining armies turning to Amin. The Liberal command in the north was being teared apart by the Eddies and remaining Balkan Fighters had been slammed hard. It seemed little stood in his rise to power. And he even no longer had to worry about General Sagestein who had just swore loyalty to him.

To put it simply, Amin was lucky and was happy about it. The rest of the opposing nobility would soon be dead and the Confreme gone from the minds of Xathuecians. As he smiled, he prepared to step onto the podium. He was not scared, he was a leader.

"My people of Xathuecia! I summon you to watch and hear what I am about to say. It has been too long that we have lived under these "Confederate Supremes" claiming power and fighting amongst themselves to secure it! Too long have the people suffered to this system they call an "efficient economy"! Too long since we felt safe and understood! Too long since we were respected and not contained by our neighbors and our leaders who brokered deals with them! No - it is time for a new Xathuecia. I hereby proclaim from the power vested in me by Xord Navam, General Sagestein, Balkan Governor Hiqga, and Aska Venmari of the Democrazia Itary Verzione the creation of a new state. One that will adhere to the proven model of governance set by our ancestors, the Romans! We are not Nova Aralia or a new Rome. We are still Xathuecia. But the Roman Republic of Xathuecia! I declare myself the Consul of this new nation and set the boundaries as the lands of past Xathuecia. I call for all armies that have yet to surrender to Roma Xathuecia to do so! I ask for the cities and the people of this nation to raise this flag!"

Amin stood back and pointed upwards. The new flag rose as soldiers turned.

"Shoot down these taints of the past!"

The men aimed and fired at the old flags still draping the sides of the building.

"That is for the people! And let me say that the government that claimed to be behind these walls had left days ago! They cared not about the city but their lives. And now, the Yariliment and the newly created Senate have voted that they will be EXECUTED AND HELD FOR THEIR CRIMES AGAINST XATHUECIA!!! I ask for this new nations to rise. One of democracy, liberalism, and of dominance. To symbolize this change, I am no longer Idi Amin! I am now Idi Tiberius Scipio Amin of the new age of Xathuecia, the era that will be known to all as the Pax Xathue!!!

---

The Speaker's car moved quickly down the road. He had barely escaped the General's forces and was en route to the embassy of Great Warrior Rivers. The car seemed pedestrian to all but the Speaker knew its defenses. He had to escape. The Xrat Commander was already in Edelreich and the Minister of War in Carthage. But the Speaker held the power and still had a claim so he knew he had to seek safety. He was quiet as the car entered the checkpoint hoping they would protect him....

Pesvara

The music played and people danced. Xord Ariel loved a good party but none could top those he experienced in Alcase. As he sat at his table and feasted, he saw the guards closing the doors and locking them.

"Men, why are those over there locking the doors? Guests have still to arrive."

"I don't know m'xord. I'm sure its nothing."

He grunted but did not want to argue. It was the marriage of his daughter and he could not let anything bother him, including the Xathuecian civil war. He lifted his wine class and dropped it immediately. It shattered on the table as his head slumped over. Blood poured as the guests screamed. The quiet sniper was replaced with heavy machine gun fire as the guests were slaughtered brutally. After it was over, the doors opened as Quinsul (one head consul called 'Consul' - the other four are called Quin(5)sul's) Navam entered the room nodding to the men walking past the mess with his cape flowing behind him with the new flag stitched on his uniform.

[Nova Aralia]

The Grand Court,
The Imperial Palace at Minerosa

The mid-day sun bled through the white silk curtains of the Emperor’s Court, their glow emanating a radiance of light down the marble tiled floors and flowing across in a soft arch until they reached the center. Bisecting the middle was a long blue carpet that stretched from the throne to the great doors almost in attention to the man who sat there; it was unnecessary for the throne itself was raised and elevated above the masses of the court and draped in delicate cloths and embroidered with ivory and gold. One of the most familiar paintings of the Emperor on the government’s commission was him on the elegant throne, sceptre and orb in hand with the crown of the Wanderers-Turned-Inward on his head.

Here however the Emperor Caelius dressed more casual. Life at the court wasn’t like the paintings and romantic stories produced outside of the houses. Nay, it was one of great stress and the inner-working of the Aralian nobility would drain even the most prepared man who did not care to appreciate their qualities. Every court whether Marquis, Duke or Emperor was developed around the ideologies of the people inside, the stale hearts and envious minds culminating in a fascination with intrigue and spite to create the court life of each noble. The environment was always one of tensity and tactical thinking, a deep understanding of cultural and social realities a necessity to avoid falling victim to the ambitious whims of the aristocracy.

Ambition and greed struck like a viper in the empire, always pushing for more and more at the expense of their fellows. The politics of the realm were a combination of fact and deceit which decided on the public’s opinion of the people who lorded over them. A faithful man could be twisted to be seen as a crooked catholic, a pacifist into a hawk and the noblest of them all could scarcely make one mistake before being ground into the dust of the failures before them. The emperor was no exception; while it was true that he ruled with impunity and nigh absolute power over his nation, the royal family was forever bound to the democratic natures of the people. A people who could be incited into anger, an anger that would threaten even the most predictable winner in an imperial gambit.

So it was that the families of the emperor and the nobles of the realm ruled over their domains as populists and careful negotiators, their own personal opinions shifted aside to secure the legacy of their House and future heirs. An emperor was not elected for what he wants to do, no; an emperor was chosen based on what he would do. That was why Emperor Caelius resented the court and politics of his lands, a darker and more callous web of treachery and enterprise he had never seen.

Fortunately today the Emperor would have his luck. While in the midst of court, dealing with the hostile banter of two feuding families that demanded an imperial witness, the mighty doors of the throne room fell open for the troop of military officers. Their pontifical and dignified uniforms drawing the crowd of noble observers towards them with a gaze part curious and part insulted. The leading officer, a lesser noble in a distant house to the north, removed his busby hat and carried it to his side as he approached the Emperor.

He kneeled to the floor and in his training treated the Emperor in the same way that they had centuries before.

“My sovereign liege-lord, whose excellency guides and promotes in me a sense of pride and understanding, whose great reign and willpower will be the testament of the lands under him and with him goes the people of Aralia. By the will of the Dii Consentes be praised.”

The Emperor blushed regretting the choice of his unceremonious circlet instead of the regal crown, having not expected such a formal visit in his court by the many factions of the military today. Mingled in the group was their politics, dozens of medals and awards from Caelius himself or from one of the many recognized templar orders were pinned to their chests. Some, such as the officer before him, even wore necklaces of fine gold and jewels as symbols of their family lineages. The Emperor recoiled and raised his hand for them to rise.

“Fair gentlemen officers, to what honor does the Emperor of Aralia have to entertaining your presence in these hallowed halls.”

The officer surprised him, having an attendant bring a sealed letter to him before explaining.

“Your Imperial Highness, we have come from all over the lands to bring you news of the world; and through that hopefully make a response from your declaration. The Xathuecians who have long been in their civil war now mock us with their insolence and delusions of glory. They have declared themselves the successors of Rome! The Roman Republic of Xathuecia!”

The room fell quickly silent. A pin drop could be heard as the officer finished his report and the crowd stood quiet, some of the conservative guests grimacing away from the thought. Suddenly a man laughed and another joined in. The tempo quickened and spread across the room, men and women taken aback by the announcement and attempting to imagine the Xathuecians as anything more than a travel advisory.

“Enough,” the Emperor frowned and loudly shouted. The guards stomped their feet and soon after the crowd finished their throes of ridicule. The Emperor looked down at the paper delivered to him and read the official report over while the officers stood in anxious silence. “The Xathuecian government under General Amin declares themselves to be a Roman Republic? They think they have the audacity to claim such a sacred people as their own; this is a failed imitation of our people. The Xathuecians have insulted us!”

The crowd burst into fits of rage and anger. “War!” One of them shouted. “To arms!" Another followed.

“The people of Xathuecia are a curse upon this world!” The Emperor shouted, buying into the aristocracy’s anger and rising from his throne. “They dare insult us; how they masquerade as our ancestors! They rip and tear and pull at the lands that we used to call home and for so long have we sat in silence. For so long have we been cordial and passive. This is our repayment? To plague our history with a false nation is to scorn our fathers!”

The crowd shouted uncontrollably, many of the aristocrats throwing their fists into the air and decrying the Xathuecians.

“Officer!” He said to the man shouting. “Heed my words and treat them as if a god instructed you. Go now to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; go now to the Ministry of Naval Affairs, to the ships that guard our marble lands. Tell them to tell the world what I say: this Roman Republic is nothing more than a farce, a disease-ridden corpse impersonating a healthy man! We will not recognize this and we will not stand for this. Away with you fine officers; carry my words now! These liars have crossed the last line.”

The officers bowed once more and marched away, the Emperor heading down the hall to the cheering and uproar of of the people. The aristocracy would spread the word for him. They would’ve came regardless to demand his response. Instead of choosing the paper Caelius chose the sword, an increasingly common action in the Aralian world these days.