The Annexation of Benaroon [MT] [Semi-Open]

[Elcric Kcalb]

Previously, on NationStates...

The Empire of Benaroon fell into the international limelight following its opening of a storefront dedicated to human trafficking. In response, several different nations united to form a small coalition with the intent of invading Benaroon and ending the practice of slavery for good. These nations included the Republic of Conserrvania, the United Federation of Palmyrion, and the Nations United for Conquest, among others. However, at the very same time, the Corporatocracy of Elcric Kcalb and the Greater Vakolicci Haven, and the Republic of Kustgebied are all conspiring to add Benaroon to their spheres of influence by any means necessary.

I wonder what will happen next?

Rules:

• Don't go nuclear.
• Behave yourselves.
• Competition is good. Cooperation is better.
• Minimize OOC posting in this thread. We have a separate thread for that here.
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Gratenburg, Steiner Building

Director Mayr cut purposefully through the halls of the Steiner Building, the capitol building of Elcric Kcalb. He was carrying a rather thick manila folder which had been jam packed with intelligence on the island nation of Benaroon. Elcric Kcalb had taken a vested interest in placing Benaroon within its sphere of influence. The Board of Governors and the Chairman saw opportunity in opening the markets of a nation transitioning from a slaver-state to a proper country. The corporations that clogged the government of Elcric Kcalb (if it could even be called a government, by some approximations) were always hungry for a new enterprise to sink their teeth into. If they had somewhere else to focus, they tended to cause less infighting at home. Benaroon would suffice for a few decades, but then they would have to find someplace else. The hunt never ended, not unless the country finally collapsed. But given how good the Federal Reserve had gotten at avoiding such a fate, it seemed unlikely.

They had outlasted many of their detractors. Saint Alexander, Akimonad, Emmeria. All of them were now dust in the wind. Chairman Adenauer wanted very much to continue this trend of surviving long after nations that scorned them so. Eventually Mayr got where he was going, knocking once on the sturdy wooden doors and entering Adenauer's posh office. The lights were always dimmed in here for some reason. Mayr had often speculated as to why, but the Chairman rarely responded pleasantly to idle questions. Adenauer himself was seated at the desk a few feet away, glancing up from a file he had been reading.

"Do you need something, Director?"

Mayr cleared his throat. "Major-General Logan Haines has reported in from Benaroon, sir." Mayr approached, presenting the folder to the Chairman. "He's ready to proceed as planned."

The current President of Benaroon had often been rumored to be of unsound mind. He had flat-out rejected the Corporatocracy's offers to save them from the growing coalition and instead partnered with the Vakolicci. Adenauer had been prepared to go elsewhere but they received a message informing them of the Major-General's sympathies. Haines, for one reason or another, was more receptive to Kcalbite rule than that of the Vakolicci. Or perhaps he wasn't convinced that the alliance with the Vakolicci would protect them adequately from the assembled coalition- that only ending slavery could protect them from future conflict.

Whatever his reasoning, Haines was in a position to seize power and the Corporatocracy was in a position to assist him in the endeavor. After weeks of preparation, Haines was ready to launch a coup, and Elcric Kcalb ready to mobilize its forces to enforce its annexation.

Chairman Adenauer leaned forward, taking the folder and giving its contents only the most cursory of glances. "Ready now?"

"As soon as you give the word."

"I'll have to commend the Major-General on his timeliness. Or should I start calling him President now?" Adenauer snorted, shutting the folder and placing it back on his desk. "Our announcement of the annexation's already been drawn up. You give Haines the green light and tell the foreign department to send it out."

"Very well, sir."

Adenauer gave Mayr a shooing gesture, and the Director exited to go find the head of the foreign department. The next few months would be very busy around here, but the next few hours were no doubt going to be the most stressful. He could only hope Haines didn't botch anything. Too much was riding on this for there to be room for error.

---

From: The Corporatocracy of Elcric Kcalb
Subject: Annexation of Benaroon

To Whom it May Concern,

As of several hours ago, the Empire of Benaroon has been subjected to a decisive military coup led by Major-General Logan Haines, seizing power from the corrupt, decadent, and unfit President. Major-General Haines' actions here are motivated through a love of his country and a desire to see an orderly, efficient end to the peculiar institution of slavery that has prevented Benaroon from achieving its true economic potential. It is with the support of Major-General Haines and his supporters that the Corporatocracy will begin the process of annexing the islands Benaroon, incorporating them as an overseas territory under the political jurisdiction of the Corporatocracy of Elcric Kcalb.

The Overseas Territory of Benaroon will remain under the jurisdiction of the Corporatocracy for a period of twenty years. During this time, government reforms will be initiated for the betterment of Benaroon, to repair its crumbling infrastructure, and to lay the groundwork for a more prosperous economic future. Further, the Corporatocracy, in conjunction with the administration established by Major-General Haines, will be launching a comprehensive five year program, during which the institution of slavery will be gradually phased out and, eventually, abolished completely. The government reforms subsequently instituted by the Haines Administration in conjunction with the Corporatocracy will ensure that slavery never returns to Benaroon once the islands are released of their status as an Overseas Territory.

Great strides in the direction of economic liberty and societal progress will be made in the coming days. We therefore urge all belligerent nations intending to invade Benaroon to recall their forces and allow for change to come more peacefully.

[Benaroon]

The New Administration put in my the New Government Helped the people in ways that no one could predict. The roads repaired, the capitol city update with reforms and projects. The people had regular meals, jobs, shelters. For once, in the Nation's history, they were better off. The plague that was Slavery was being outlawed once and for all.
And the People hated it.
The people had been raised and brainwashed to believe that there was only one infallible source. Joseph Ziemecki and his descendants. The religion of the Nation's founder and the figure of the great Family has long been the source of all things good on the Island. The one city not completely destroyed or attacked was the Holy city, Where Joseph Ziemecki Made his touchdown onto the island. They held great respect for the family. They have brought nothing but good, and they will bring nothing but good. Always. But now, the President and last descendant of Joseph Ziemecki Took his own life after the coup. The Island is no longer led by the great holy family, but by a man and nothing else.
And the People hated it.
It was a Military dictatorship now, nothing else. Not that it wasn't before, but now they see that its all the Major General's fault.
The People start to protest, asking for the Major General to step down. They would rather have the nation run by the people , than by just mere man.
The Protests begin.
--------------------The Holy City of Joseph-----------
"This is Benaroon News, reporting now on the protests taking to the streets. The Government has sent down Riot police to repel them from leaving the city. It could turn violent."

[CoraSpia]

Unknown Location,
Non-descript office building,
Iros,
Greater Vakolicci Haven,
Tyrrhenia


She sat, as she most often did, still apart from the gentle movements of her soft, well-practised fingers. Tap. Tap. Tap. The clatter of keys which spelled out her life (and, she knew, the lives of many more) continued on uninterrupted as events were witnessed, analysed and responded to. She sat their still: hearing, seeing, thinking, writing, ordering the movements of men, machines and money.

Who she was, in name at least, was a mystery to all but the most senior officials in Havenic governance and military circles. She was tall, dignified and slender, was known to wear plain, unadorned black suits and had appeared regularly in public: her face hidden beneath a complexly-designed, multi-angular glass mask. What she called herself and what she did were well-known however: she was Vrone...and what she did was to make the will of the Haven known, and to make the will of the Haven come about. The international leaders, various terrorist groups, corporations, private military forces, and as a last result the Havenic military were all simply weapons that she wielded like a well-practised swordswoman; some even guessed that the Havenic president himself was secretly under the sway of the woman who was, officially at least, only the director of foreign intelligence.

Her reputation was well-known across the world. 'Friendly calls' from Vrone had resulted, if her wishes were disobeyed, in random acts of terrorism; financial disasters; assassinations. She had no humour to her, just cold and logical truth, and a knowledge of what was going to happen that could only come from the individual who made such things happen. Vrone knew that it was because of people like her that the Haven had survived many thousands of years and grown from a mere refugee colony to one of the worlds foremost superpowers, to a nation with lands across 3 continents, a nation which 14 billion people called home.

One of her many 'see, analyse, act' routines was playing out before her right now. The tiny nation of Benaroon, a state most unremarkable, was in the process of being taken under the influence of the Corporatocracy of Elcric Kcalb, a state with which the Haven had generally very good relations with. She sighed, and mentally corrected herself: Benaroon was unremarkable inall but one important fashion...it was one of the great transport hubs for the slave trade. And, as predictable as a bad smell following a fart, Elcric Kcalb was proposing to end slavery, and hurt Vakolicci business prospects while they were at it. The fact that the Havenic Senior Secretary for Foreign Relations had only recently made an offer of unification to Benaroon was just a small complicating factor. Everyone knew that the duty of the Haven wasn't to the world at large. The duty of the haven was probably not even to its people: rather, it was to the many businesses which called its sprawling cities home, both national and international trade kept the huge state moving and expanding, kept the economy growing, and kept the government in power. The Haven lived and breathed money, it made its decisions for money, it moved in its actions simply for the promise of more and more money. Threats to this, where rone...or more accurately, it was done by Vrone; their were no people like her.

A few buttons brought up her telephone screen, and she dialled a number and waited for it to be answered. Not waited for the person on the other end to finish talking, simply waited for it to be answered. Time was of the essence and she could not be bothered dabbling in pleasantries.

"Inform Major-General Logan Haines that Vrone will speak with him. It is adviseable that he does not dally in answering the phone."

Deliur shipyards,
Province of Sencar,
Greater Vakolicci Haven,
Tyrrhenia


Slavery was not a well-loved thing across the world, and those who traded in it were not a well-loved group. The Greater Vakolicci Haven, despite being what is known to the world as a generally peaceful trading nation, was always on alert for attacks and the need to show force for this reason. It was, therefore, Havenic policy to keep a certain classified percentage of Havenic forces in a constant (though rotating) state of being ready to go at very short notice, in case a threat presented itself. The 7th fleet was a part of that segment of the military force, and well...ready to go was turning into 'going.'
Superior Admiral Joseph Tel-avir surveyed his fleet with a well-practised eye, an eye born of many years of military experience and a desire for constant perfection in all it witnessed. It was not an eye drawn to favourable portrayals of inadequate things...more one used to scathingly criticising certain problems until they changed themselves. The 7th fleet was too small in his view, however even the Superior Admiral couldn't (at least for now) change that.
He watched from his prominent location at a high point of the Longsword-class guided missile assault ship 'Freedom's sword,' and smiled like some ancient figurehead of an invading fleet. Which, he reflected sadly, this wasn't.

What the 7th fleet was going to do was simply perform military training exercises. That was all: completely routine and ordinary. Who could possibly object to a nation performing such exercises? And in the crowded waters of Tyrrhenia, surely it could be overlooked that they were being performed just outside of Elcric Kcalb territorial waters. And the fact that before it reached these waters it would be joined by the fourth and eleventh fleets surely was just a show of the classic trident formation. Nothing sinister whatsoever...

[Benaroon]

The Governmental Palace

The new president of Benaroon sits at his desk watching the news. The creases on his face grow ever more apparent and deep. Despite only being in power for four days, the toll it has on has on him is monumental. He has gone unshaven, his hair unkempt and frayed. He has drank and smoked heavily, as the smell of fine Conserrvanian tobacco reeks the room. He is in a terribly bad mood.
And these recent protests do not help it.
He watches the news on his Whole wall tv screen. The people, they march in the streets, screaming his name. But not HIS name. No, they scream for someone else. The Man he once respected. They call for his name, for his return, for his rule. But he made it clear he was not coming back. He publicly executed him, for crimes against his people, other people, and the very Religion he served. The people would not accept that he was just killed then, for no man can take his life. They all say that he took his own life by having someone else do it.
They were all in denial.
And now, now his phone was ringing, and the last thing he wanted to do was speak to someone.
But he picked it up anyways.
"Who is this and what do you want."

[CoraSpia]

Behind the mask, Vrone smiled as the phone was answered. She stopped typing, so their was no background noise at the other end: just her voice would be heard. She began as soon as he lifted up the phone, hearing the note of annoyance and stress in his voice: heard it...and liked what she heard.
"Ah," she said, in her silky smooth voice, carefully prepared to contain subtle notes of both threat and seduction. "My name is unimportant at this time. You may call me Vrone...and I am calling...from the Greater Vakolicci Haven. Do you have a moment to discuss business with me, Mr. Hanes?"

[Benaroon]

The woman's voice came through the phone and the General's hand tightened. This is a voice that many hear before they have accidents. Being part of the international community for years, he would know of the name mentioned and the voice and calls that would follow. But the General was too tired, drunk, and stressed out to fully realize the importance of this call. " I Have country about to be enveloped in a Civil Holy War. I really have all the time in the world." the General is a very unhappy person to be around right now. His voice his that of a gruff and cuban-esqe accent. " What is it that you need to discuss Ms....Vrone."

[CoraSpia]

"Very well...I will keep it brief," Vrone said, smiling behind her mask. She tapped her hand lazily on the table. "I hate to see a nation suffer in such a war. Perhaps...this is important for this call. I am calling in order to discuss the relationship between our two nations..." Unlike the general, she sounded cerene and calm, as if she had all the time in the world. "The offer that your predecessor so graciously approved, Mr. Hanes, is still on the table. If you were to accept it, the Haven will quell your riots...will protect your nation from foreign threats...will protect your sovereign lawmaking ability...What do you say?"

[Benaroon]

The Holy City of Joseph
The Riot Police are pushing the protesters back, slowly gaining ground. The peaceful protests are now turning to full out riots soon. The news crew a since taken to the skies out of safety, as the ground is becoming a brewing point for anger. A prominent figure in the religion has made his way into the crowds of angry citizens and has tarted to make an uproar. The News has a got glimpse of what he saying.
"....and WHO decides who our leader is? the congress? NO! The General? NO! WE decide who our leader is. And our leader is the holy leader! The Great Holy Leader! Our long standing and respected Leader Ben Ziemecki has fallen and is waiting for us above. But, there is another! His son! THE NEW MESSIAH! " The News helicopter rose far above crowd, seeing its size grow bigger and bigger. They could catch glimpses of members carrying rifles from the military base, recently overrun during the crisis before the coup. Those rifles can do heavy damage to any human being. The crowd is shouting, chanting prayers from the great holy book. The high priest is leading them in prayer and psalms, but those whoa re native to Benaroon know these psalms are for war and for protection. Similar rallies are happening in the other cities, as the News is airing the speeches and prayers all over the networks. They fly closer to hear the end of the Priest's speech ".......................And his name! His holy name!." The crows grows silent. "He has risen. Joseph Ziemecki , second of his name. HE HAS RISEN ONCE MORE!" The crowds start to go insane. The people chant and scream. A man walks forward from the crowd. They part in his wake. He steps forward to the priest, and gestures for the stage. He steps up and speaks.
" I am Jospeh. I will come and save you from the tyranny of the General and our Territorial masters. We will take the matter into our own hands. The Nation shall be ruled by me, and me alone."
And the people cheered.

The Governmental palace.
"Well, Ms.Vrone, My answer will be.."
"SIR!" a private rushes in.
"What?! Can't you see I am in the middle of something important!?"
"Sir! Ziemecki's son is rallying the people!"

[Alexiandra]

804-840 Hallow Street
Lockbourne
The National Republic of Alexiandra

Official Communication

To: Open communication | From: The Alexiandran Foreign Ministry, Lockbourne | Subject matter: The future of Benaroon | Encryption: None

---

The democratic assemblage of Alexiandran peoples wishes to commend, in the strongest terms possible, the efforts of those responsible for abolishing slavery within the Empire of Benaroon. Slavery has, since mankind's conception, persisted as perhaps the most grievous breach of natural law ever perpetrated by the human form. To degrade one's peers by forcing them into mandatory servitude is a crime so heinous as to be rejected by even the most deviously profane of nature's creations. While it is the general belief of the Alexiandran state that the rule of law and democracy should be upheld wherever possible, some circumstances warrant the suspension of such an abstract principle in the pursuit of moral decency. The pre-coup situation in Benaroon was a prime example of such circumstances. Long had the ensnared Benaroonian proletariat suffered under the yoke of a most ignominious and institutionalised tyranny. Yet this sorry state of affairs is no more - thanks to the brave and unprecedented actions of one Major-General Logan Haines and his supporters, slavery is set to be abolished, and the emancipation of all those victimised by this vile practice is close at hand. Thus, the international community and man's moral conscience owes the Major-General an immeasurable debt.

In expressing our collective gratitude towards Mr Haines, however, we concerned nation-states must not refrain from issuing an equally justified criticism. In rising up against the status quo and purging injustice from his nation, the Major-General acted within the confines of moral virtue. By effectively surrendering the autonomy of his nation to the faceless Corporatocracy of Elcric Kcalb, however, he exceeded - and, indeed, violated - those very same confines. Had Mr Haines simply released his nation's governmental future to the democratically expressed will of the Benaroonian people, his name would have remained untarnished, suffixed forever by the title of liberator. Instead, Mr Haines has chosen to condemn his countrymen to a lifetime of exploitation at the hands of aloof corporate interests, substituting formal slavery at the hands of the state with informal slavery at the hands of unaccountable, unidentifiable capitalists. In Alexiandra's judgement, this latter form of slavery is scarcely preferable to the former, and must be opposed just as vigorously.

It is for this reason that Alexiandra hereby formally endorses Kustgebied's bid for stewardship of the Benaroonian destiny. The Kustburger Republic is a democratic, accountable government with a genuine concern for the welfare of its citizenry and a sensible respect for Benaroonian autonomy. Temporary Kustburger control of the Benaroonian state apparatus is, in the National Republic's opinion, entirely preferable to the permanent concentration of power in the hands of a privileged few oligarchs in Elcric Kcalb. Under Kustgebied's leadership, democracy will be inevitable and institutionalised - under the yoke of corporate control, however, the wishes of the Benaroonian public will be smothered by conflicting business interests and relegated to a position of tertiary import. It is paramount that Kustgebied be allowed to handle this volatile period of transition, lest Benaroon be plunged into a regressive mode of political thought whose end result will be the resurgence of slavery and the exultation of man's inhumanity to man.

Alexiandra will do everything within its considerable power to ensure that Kustgebied gains custodianship of the Benaroonian state, and that the people of Benaroon receive a government that is both socially just and responsive to their collective will.

Liberté, egalité, fraternité - for a free Benaroon.

[Elcric Kcalb]

Gratenburg, Steiner Building
Chairman's Office

Mayr decided that it was the tapping that really bothered him. Adenauer constantly, constantly tapping impatiently on the desk with his pen. "I want you to tell me," he said through gritted teeth. "Just exactly what in the hell a Zim-icky is."

This had all been in the file Director Mayr had previously deposited in the office, but he suspected that Adenauer had only read the portions concerning Benaroon's mineral wealth and agricultural potential. Maybe he had glanced over the cultural and political sway Ziemecki held over the country. Mayr found it more likely that Adenauer had elected not to read any of it at all. This was the problem when businessmen ran countries, he mused. They were only concerned about numbers, but some things couldn't be quantified with math. Like, say, just how much of the populace was convinced of the divinity of the Ziemecki family and how readily they would rally to Joseph, the so-called New Messiah.

"We believe he is the son of the President. The one who killed himself during the coup." Mayr explained. "People are flocking to him. They're calling him a Messiah."

That had been a bump in the road. If they could have coerced the President into publicly accepting the new regime, that might have helped, but a dead President was a martyred President. Adenauer, meanwhile, scoffed. Religiosity was frowned on fiercely in Elcric Kcalb. The echelons of government had no time to concern themselves with superstitions. "Messiahs aren't bulletproof. Tell Raines to cut the head off the rebelious snake and be done with it."

"Sir, in my assessment-"

Adenauer sneezed. "What in your assessment? You think Raines can't handle it?"

"I don't think he has the men or the equipment. A military base has already been overrun."

"Well, you know what they say. Want something done right, do it yourself." The Chairman leaned down, yanking open a lower drawer in his desk and rooting around for something. He eventually found a rather thick binder, which Director Mayr immediately recognized. The military of Elcric Kcalb was entirely privatized from top to bottom. Air force, navy, army, all of it. Best way to run things. When they weren't entrenching themselves in defense of the homeland they were usually leant out to other countries that needed the support- usually tinpots clinging on to power. It wasn't totally unusual for the Corporatocracy to hire out its own military on behalf of a foreign client. "Thorsager seems fit for the job."

"They did prove themselves with the Saint Alexander affair, but the presence of foreign mercenaries might contribute more to unrest."

"If we don't send anyone, Benaroon will revolt anyway." Adenauer's tone implied finality. "I want boots on the ground. Thorsager is going in. They'll train the Benaroon... Benaroonese? Benaroonites? Benaroonish?"

"I've used Benaroonese."

"Whatever it is, they'll train their military. Get it up to snuff. You're going there with them along with some other intelligence assets."

Mayr's stomach churned. This was not how he had envisioned spending his summer.

"I want the new Zemicky discredited. Get people to doubt his heritage, find out what makes him tick, get him to screw up. Then I want him dead."

---

Gratenburg, Steiner Building
Director's Office

Mayr had a few days before he was scheduled to be shipped to Benaroon. Prior to that, he was to call up Major-General Haines and inform him of the Corporatocracy's intentions to assist in keeping the peace. Not that it was being made any easier by the seemingly dozens of other nations that had taken an interest in Benaroon. Now that Kcalbite corporations were just beginning to sink their teeth in, things were improving, but that didn't erase the principle of the matter: that a foreign country was being economically colonized, and that while formal stewardship would end in two decades, Kcalbite influence would persist for much longer. The Vakolicci were now having fleets hang around Kcalbite waters. A nation called Alexiandra was declaring for Kustgebied's right to handle Benaroon's transitional phase.

Politics as usual. Mayr was beginning to think he wasn't being paid enough to handle this.

Work was work, though, and it seemed he would rather be doing this than anything else. So he took his phone off the receiver and prepared to be patched through to Haines, provided the line wasn't still busy.

[Benaroon]

The Holy City of Joseph
Chaos. The Rallies in the city had reach a boiling point of pure religious fury and rage has peaked. The New Messiah of the Land Joseph Ziemecki II was yelling int ot he crowd, causing uproar and cheers.
"ARE WE GOING TO LET THE UNHOLY MAN WHO KILLED MY FATHER, YOUR LEADER, IN A TIME OF CRISIS CONTINUE TO LIVE ON?! NO! WE .SHALL .REVOLT!!"
The crowds were chanting "REVOLT" over and over again, until, it happened.
A shot ran out into the night. Maybe by a Loyalist to the General, maybe an assassin, a misfire. But it happen. Joseph Ziemecki was shot in the shoulder and fell off the podium into the crowd. The people caught him and quickly ran him to safety. The people, seeing their leader be shot, broke out. The rifles rang out. Molotovs thrown. The dogs set loose. The Rebellion has officially begun, with the shot of an unknown bullet. Cars are overturned to create barricades, the Riot Police bring up their shields and start firing the teargas. Fires erupt throughout the scene, the light bouncing off the solid gold statue of Joseph Ziemecki I.
The Governmental Palace.
20 minutes before riot.
"Ms.Vrone, you'll have to excuse me, It appears I have a holy war on my hand. I shall contact you later."
He shuts off his computer and rushes out of his room. He runs to the console and starts issuing orders to the Police in all the cities. The Capital city and Lukem are under Martial Law, the people being shoved intot heir houses out of fear of being arrested or shot in the street. But the Holy City was a lost cause.

[Nations United for Conquest]

Nuceiro, NUC

It was near midnight in the capital of NUC, and a small thunder storm had begun to form outside of the city. Yet as the storm raged on in the distance, the capital was still peaceful. In the center of the town, stood the capital building, erected on the fields of the last battle of the war of Unification. It took many years for the broken ground to be fixed, just as it had taken many years to unify the nations. Yet in both cases, the reward was worth it. President Alaric Kuhn sat on the second story of the large building, busily typing away at a computer. He had spent the last few hours staring at the screen, mindlessly typing away, trying to solve the various problems he was presented with that day. Eventually around 11:17 he had enough, he saved his work and powered down his computer. He then stared off into the distance, watching the storm as it slowly approached the city. Finally the doors of his office slowly creeped open, as a yound lady stepped into the office. She wore a business suit, and carried a carefully marked envelope. Noticing the President seemed pre-occupied, she lightly set the paper down on his desk before leaving the room. President Kuhn, could hear her walking down the large halls of the Capital building before finally fading out into silence. For a long time he continued to watch the storm, his mind lost to other thoughts. He finally awakened, and slowly turned back to his desk, grabbing the envelope. It had been marked with the seal from the Minister of Intellegence, surely something important, perhaps an update on the Status of the Swedish-Eclius war, or possibly a letter from their ally Orostan.

He opened his desk drawer to pull out a large letter opener, and carrfully cut away the seal that closed the enevelop. He now unfolded the crisp piece of paper and began reading the letter. It surprised him that the intellegence was about Benaroon! He thought that the Coalition's victory ensured peace for the nation, yet unrest had developed after the Coup. The Coalition had crippled the nations military, and forced the removal of it's leader. The coup that had taken place brought democracy to the nation, yet strangely the people had disliked this. To many years of the governments twistedd propoganda had tricked them into believing it's horrific acts were acceptable. It was also introduced to the President, that the New Government had made deals with a nation, more accuratly a nation run by businesses, and although the details were sketchy, it outlined that Democracy might only be temporary. After putting so much time and effort into helping pave the way for a new government to rise, only to see it sell out saddened him. He knew something must be done, yet he wasn't sure what. A military invasion and rebuilding would be messy as they would have to fight the government and people, yet seemed to provide the most sound route. Supporting the government no longer seemed like an option, and the people were to unstable to support. An invertention was needed, yet the path still remained cloudy. The President finally decided that a meeting had to take place.

The President placed the envelope back on his desk as he powered up his computer. He now began typing out a letter, which would call for a meeting. The president spent several minutes typing out a draft before he sudmitted it to the Minister of Foriegn Relations, where he would review it and distribute it to the assigned nations. After several minutes of waiting, President Kuhn revieced a message confirming that the message had been delivered to the correct nations. It was also outlined that a meeting room had been cleared out for the leaders and that they were all set for the meeting tomorrow. Relived that the problem ahd been adressed for the moment. President Kuhn decided that it was time that he should be finishing up for the night. He shut off his computer, and grabbed his jacket as he walked out of his office. He decided it would be best for him to take a walk throught the courtyard, and get some fresh air before sleeping. In the distance the storm grew closer and a light drizzle had developed. Tomorrow the Coalition leaders, and those of other countries would arrive, to begin discussing plans of action.

To the Members of the Coalition Forces, Orostan, and Kustgebied
From Nations United for Conquest

As many of you know it has been sometime since the Coalition Forces attacked the Nation of Benaroon, with the intentions of destroying it's military, and reforming the government under democratice leaderships. The first objective was meet, as the Benaroon navy was destroyed, and both the airforce and army were left crippled. And with the threat of a full scale invasion, the leader of Benaroon stepped down. In the aftermath of the event the crumbling government was taken over by a military general, who abolished slavery, and tried to set up a democratic Government in the nation.

But if some of you aren't already aware, the new government had formed an agreement with Elcric Kcalb, a country run almost entirely by the private sectore. They have promised that they will help rebuild Benaroon, and set it on a path to a golden age. But we have seen the actions of this nation, if you can call it that, in the past and believe that they do not hold the best interest for Benaroon. There is also the fact that a new power has risen in the aftermath. Many of the citizens, still clinging to the odd ways, after years of twisted government propoganda, ahve begun to reject the new government. A man claiming to be a decendent of the previous leader has begun a revolt in the country, and it is about to spill over into a holy/civil war if action is not taken. This is a delicate situation and demand percision planning and exicution to bring Stability and eventually democracy to the nation. That is why I have invited you to our captial to discuss a plan of action. We are sorry for the last tight time frame, but we believe action must be taken as soon as possible to secure a future for this nation
-President Alaric Kuhn, NUC

[Benaroon]

The Holy City

Joseph was laying under the wreckage of a burning car. The rioters did have access to the the military gear they stole, and has been using it liberally. The Riot Police has since turned to Live Rounds after a Jeep refitted into a tank ran over many of them. The closest followers of his quickly took him to safety once he shot, which was NOT part of his plan. When he was sent here , back to his people, he was supposed to just start a rebellion and NOT get shot when rallying the people. He would have to discuss this with the GHV when he gets a chance. But it looked like his rally worked, as they run through the streets, shooting their stolen rycin rifles. He was carried away, patched up by the local doctor. He gave some sort of bullshit blessing to him, and went back out to observe the fighting. The Police have not budged an inch, when loosing members, more just seem to show up. The people were not falling in numbers either. They were fighting tooth and nail to get rid of the Police. Perhaps he can... stir them up a bit more? He walks out behind the rioter's defensive line.
"MY PEOPLE!," he yelled as walked out to them. They turned in awe, the police fire missing them. ,"please, do not turn to face me, for it is dangerous. Just listen." They turned to their posts once more. " The attempt on my life has left me wounded, but I assure you my Will has never been stronger! We must push these scoundrels back, as they defile the Holy Lands! Look around you, look as they destroy what you fight for!" The people were angry, focused, and lethal. The rycin pellets hit against the shields a bit harder now. " Push! Let us be rid of these fiends who plague our nation! Charge them! LEAVE NO SURVIVORS!
Dla Józefa ! Za zmarłych ! Dla Honor ! OPŁATA!" The people affix bayonets and charge the police, pure religious fury emanating from them. They hurtle over the police lines, stabbing, shooting, beating. Savagery in the name of their Messiah. He could get use to this "god" thing.