The Bitter War (ATTN: Tetrakon, Closed)

by **Neo Prutenia** » Thu Dec 15, 2011 7:03 pm

The Bitter War

Свет није видео рата
Док руку није диг’о брат на брата.

World has not seen war or slaughter
‘til arms has raised brother against brother.

-Old Veleslav proverb

I - Ansatz
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
II - Pogrom
Part 1

I. – Ansatz

Quite a few hours have passed since we crossed the border in secret, yet two things are still bothering me. Of course I am in doubt, how could I not be? As far as my name and associates could bring me and as “interested in our cause” and as supporting as the Lady of Rusichland was, my current actions will not be judged kindly. This wasn’t justification of treason, I’m fully aware it is treason and I won’t pretend it’s not nor will I use a colourful euphemism – wouldn’t that be in the spirit of our current occupiers? – and call it something else perhaps less grave. They will call me the Betrayer, they will feel betrayed afterwards and in a relatively short span I will betray them. I am not happy about it, nor will I be when the deed is done. Out of the many things that happened in my life and hopefully many more that will happen eventually, this must be the one I will have the most displeasure doing. The only thing that keeps me going is my knowledge that it will be done without malice and out of concern for my people. The damnable Pruton can claim that the road to Hell is paved with such good intentions, but my conscience is innocent.

They will call me the betrayer, when in fact it was I who was betrayed. And how they betrayed me. What was the fifth day of June last summer if not treason? Oh, I don’t hold it against them. The occupier blinded them with his honeyed words, his eager promises, his honourable demeanor; the crowds, the Proles loved their words, they fell for the trap blinded by their own simple nature. I’ll admit, the Pruton excels in PR. Over two decades those fools listened until they actually believed, conditioned to accept their new masters willingly, but not me, not Viktor, oh no. I know you erred and I know that as much as you will hate me when I will be vindicated, you will forgive me, curse me but forgive me. That was your first treason against this son of the Motherland, sadly it was not the last. Where were you, when we raised our voices against their dictatorship? When we cried our lungs out and held the lines of opposition to Königsstein? Where were you in that faithful October when their minions, our former brothers reduced to servile Prutonic dogs, charged our positions and broke our resistance? Where were you when we proudly raised our colours in Lyssychansk and put our heads to the lines? Fools and cowards all of you, sitting home and watching as the last true sons of this our land – yes, I refuse to accept the June treason as valid – where crushed. I should hate you for that, for your passivity and complacency, but I won’t. I pity you and I’m profoundly sad that such a turn of events was forced into motion. You failed to turn me into a martyr, now you will have to suffer me as a savior. I will save you.

Even after your third betrayal in early December I remain stalwart in my fight. June was a mistake born out of passion and emotion, October was an error that came to be out of fear and uncertainty, but December was sheer insanity and stupidity; that was the last straw, the unfortunate deed that forced my hand. I regret nothing and even if I did, I’ve already crossed the border and arranged the meeting. It would be a waste of time and a display of poor manners to now back down and return with my tail between my legs. Certainly, this is not the thing that bothers me although my two companions – my bodyguard and my advisor – seem to think that I’m hesitant, that exactly the before mentioned is what’s eating my mind. They’re as wrong as you where in those elections. It’s not the uncertainty of northern intentions and our future, but the certainty of me being here under those conditions that bothers me. Those two little issues that have been boring through my skull and eating up all my thoughts, two little daemons scheming in my head and whispering words of doubt - Why did the Pruton let me go? Why did the Rusich let me in?

Gnade – Clemency, the word that the damnable Pruton uttered without hesitation, without doubt, without pressure. Was he mocking me? He must have been mocking me, insulting me and my cause and by extension just confirming his attitude and opinion about my people. I will prove his decision poor and misplaced; you think that I’m not a threat? I will punish you for this audacity. Voroshilov pardoned, rebellion crushed before it could take a hold, no casualties, everything under control. You despicable liar, you know full well that the situation isn’t under your control, both of us are aware that your skull faced Greycoats roam Veleslav land, thousands of them prowling through the night acting as your eyes and ears. How I will enjoy to kick them and your unwelcome settlers out of my land – first out of Lyssychansk, then Taganrog, then out of all eastern Veleslavia and if the Rusich prove courageous enough, all of Veleslavia. Mark my words Pruton, Vrangelgrad will be a ruin soon, tossed angrily back into the sea from which it came in the first place. Yet I can’t get that smirk, that expression of his out of my head. Why are you so sure? What gives you this confidence? I’m a soldier…was a soldier. I know your secrets and bases and policies, I know that you’re aware that my network still exists and I’m bold enough to assume that by now you’re aware that I left my country, since your assassins didn’t reach me. The Prutons claim you’re a good man and my kind saw strength and dedication in your mercy; Prutonic fool, I see nothing but weakness and lack of assertiveness. Now both our kindred will pay in blood – mine because of their treason and servility, yours because of your softness and forgiveness. I recall another of your sayings: “No good did shall go unpunished”.

However, the other devil is slightly worse but more bearable. Prutons are snakes, predictable if you know their kind and take precautions; Rusich are a different matter. It was no coincidence that I chose Rusichland as an ally. I knew they’d accept or at least hear me out, that, I never doubted. Only, their reply came too quick, too eager. Did the Lady know what was going on, did she already set everything in motion and was my visit a mere formality? I believe the Rusich capable of such duplicity; after all, they hail from the same place as the Prutons. Of course, my people do too, but our ancestors left to escape these two folks. At least the Rusich were kindred, Slav blood runs through their veins and there is a soothing familiarity in their tongue and tradition. Yet I can’t shake this sentiment of malice and concern that has been bothering me since the border. I know the fates of the Ardan and the Turks in Rusichland, but they are not kin. I know of Rusichland’s might and ambition, but they are not enemy. Shared blood, shared soil, even shared history, I should rejoice that I’ll be able to cooperate with my brothers. I should, but I do not. I do not. I know that something is escaping me, something important I’m missing, a subtle thing which I can’t dismiss in clear conscience but neither comprehend in my current state of mind. I’d love to claim it’s just anxiety – after all, you don’t go around and commit treason every other day – but I’m old and experienced enough to recognize it’s not anxiety. I don’t perceive it as wrong per se, and I was forced to act in such manner, I do it out of free feel and sound of mind, aware what will happen, I have no regrets, just duty to my people and my homeland… and right here in this moment I realized why the Pruton let me go. He planted this seed of discord in my soul; damnable Pruton – after you convinced my own kind to abandon me and reason, after furiously and swiftly smothering our cause and confusing me with your inappropriate mercy you almost managed to do it, you almost managed to convince me to trust no one. You failed again. I will take this leap of faith, I will trust my northern brother.

My companions noticed my change of attitude. We’ve been travelling together for quite some time now and I just became aware that both of them were sitting in silence while I was contemplating whatever my mental soliloquy was about, the entire time their eyes where fixed on me. I confirmed with a nod that I was ready. It appeared that we already arrived at the place. I didn’t bother paying attention to my surroundings, leaving my two friends to guide me further and speak with ours hosts. Handcuffed to my left arm was the suitcase whose content will change the fate of Veleslavia – I mentally went through it and checked if everything was there – war plans, maps, locations, routes and frequency of border patrols, force compositions, even a lengthy report on Belovrh. While I was going through my list, a tap on my shoulder distracted me. I was suddenly standing in front of a door leading to what I assumed was the room, our meeting place. Was it that quick to reach or was my mind working that slow? Never mind. I take out a pocket mirror and adjust my appearance, think one last time about my lines and what I’m going to say to whomever was sent to listen to me and then I simply enter the room. Leap of faith indeed.

by **Rusikstan** » Fri Dec 16, 2011 9:42 pm

Looking out the window was all I could do to keep my mind off of the coming events. The clouds had always had an appeal to me, but on this day they had a greater appeal…there were no clouds at all. The sky was fiercely blue with sun prominently displayed. I never liked the fluffy white clouds of the children’s tales. They were too innocent in their conception and always the same, surrounded by angels and the rays of the sun beckoning those on the ground toward heaven. No I much preferred the clouds of the thunderstorm, greedily holding the sky ransom, blocking the sun and depressing the bright sky with their grey and pale demeanor. On this day though, there was not one blemish in the sky, not a single one and there hadn’t been for days. It was clearly a sign, but of what? Many would want to believe it was nothing, after all the winds were calm and without winds clouds couldn’t move, right? No, that wasn’t it at all. I know what is at play, and God knows. A cruel game he was trying to play, indeed making the cliché a truth, a reality. Indeed, the calm before the storm is upon us. He knows what is coming, he knows what we bring. Ironic really. Who would suspect that the cause of this beautiful day would be the harbinger of destruction, the maiden of death? Only He, and, of course, I. I am the one whose name shall be called in the streets upon this, our nation’s greatest triumph.

“Madam Chancellor, our guest has arrived”

It was in this moment that beginning of the end was apparent. My moment of triumph had arrived and the starting point of my grand scheme was about to be set in place. Like pieces that lay upon a chess board, I was only moves away from check and mate. It would become clear to world soon enough. The whole world will be thrown upon furnace. It will be lit up in disbelief, and from these fires we shall arise in splendid victory.

“Madam?”

I turned to rather portly man clad in his naval regalia, “I heard you, Lloyd.” I looked him over from head to toe. A rather unimpressive man he is, and how he ever reached this level is beyond me. It was without a doubt this was his zenith, his highest point as I wouldn’t allow such a man to be any higher. Of course, the poor man did have his positives. Despite his size, he was rather dashing in his blue and whites. He was also a man of character and unchanging principles, much like me. He couldn’t be swayed and would always speak of the situation as he saw it. That was quite admirable, but was bound to be the end of him, especially if he stepped on the wrong person’s toes, namely mine, at the very least it would hurt. “heheh, dressing your best today Lloyd?”

The look on Lloyds face was one of surprise and flattery. He had no way of knowing what I meant by the comment, nor if I was laughing at his expense. In fact the pure misery of the unknown upon his face was delectable. I feel slightly bad for the poor man, he’s probably not been complemented on in such a long time. To tell him or not, to hint upon the meaning would probably be demeaning, but if I don’t he’ll probably go jump off a bridge. “That’s a compliment Lloyd.”

“Of course ma’am, Thank you. I do always try to look the part.”

Look the part? Look the part? The part of what exactly, a navy minister? What are there some sort of external qualifications to be a naval minister? If you can do the job, you’ll get it, that’s the simplest way to understand it and that is how he received the post. The man could have just said thanks, but instead he has to add such a ridiculous comment as “I try to look the part”. It’s not like we are meeting some foreign diplomat, a man of any significance or power. No, we’re simply meeting some rabble with half a brain and the spine to stand up to the prutonic pansies. If half his country displayed this rather unimpressive zeal they’d still be worthy of their nation. Alas, they couldn’t even realize they were being charmed and my half-wit predecessor just let them slip into the palms of the multicolored catchall glove known as the Prut. Their Slavic blood, however weak, is still too noble to be mixed with the ice-water the prutons have. It’s the Slavic right to lead, not to be led.

“Instruct our guest to enter when he is ready,”

I turned to face the door and examine him upon entrance. It’s not every day, after all, that one gets to thank the bearer of bad news.

--
The room was long and plain. Centered, lay a large oak conference table. At its sides sat the various distinguished men whose job it was to handle the invasion plans. Most of the forces that were to be involved had been altered and moved into position. They were rotated once every two weeks in order for them to keep active, and not draw attention by sitting on the border for too long.
--

When the man entered the room, he looked ragged and torn. It was pity that our entire operation was based on the ideas and plans that were supposed to come from this man. Could he really be the one that I’ve waited so long to meet? It was almost a letdown. Here I was thinking this man was going to be the embodiment of the proud Veleslav man, a proud and upright soul ready to cut the immortal head of the hydra. To be honest though he did look the part. He would have to do.

“Mr. Voroshilov, I presume?” A single nod was the reply, “Before we conduct our business Mr. Voroshilov, I have a little story to tell you.” I walked back over to the window to search for the impending clouds, but there were still none, “My father always told me to help people in need. He was a good man, but many years out of date. Yet, I’ve tried to live up to his expectations to the best of my ability. I was born to a family of power and wealth. From that point of view, seeing those in despair and depravity it was easy to see the point of the philosophy my father had crafted. Who are we to be so lucky and so deserving? We should give back. So I did.” I turned back to him, still standing just past the door, “I was expecting the squalors of filth, disease and dirt that marked the lower class, but their attitudes are what really got to me. These people never appreciated anything I did. Early on I began to doubt the wisdom of my father’s philosophy, and cursed him as a fool. I tried to work with them and avoid the inconsistencies of the idea of charity. I couldn’t. All they ever wanted was more, and they always wanted more, no matter what we gave them. I then realized my father had neither stared into the blood-shot eyes of these people nor shaken their grime ridden hands. He never saw the hatred and contempt they had for people of our status. They wanted equality, but could never ascend to my level, and so they wanted me to give it all until I was on their level. That is what this nation has worked for and what I have improved. Now more than ever, we are all on the same playing field, at least the majority. Through this system and this office I figured out what my father never could, and never would suspect…some people are more equal than others. Do you know the point of this tale Mr. Voroshilov? I suspect you don’t. You and I currently stand on even ground, without you I have nothing, without me you can do nothing. We can move in many directions Mr. Voroshilov, and I believe we both want to move forward on even ground. This requires an even exchange between us. I can only give to a certain capacity before my efforts are in vain. If you have any doubts, it would be best to leave. If you plan on withholding any information, it would be best to leave. Only with your full cooperation can this endeavor succeed. I have haphazardly placed my trust in you, and do not like to be disappointed. Do you plan on disappointing me, Mr. Voroshilov?”

by **-West** » Sat Dec 17, 2011 5:48 am

Eons have passed and the Western Republic has always been keen to its own Elysium ground-soil, even though this soil may be humus-lowered and deserted prairie, it did not abandon the Westerners from their kindly-acknowledged patriotism, it was not like the Westerners indeed-hated the other continental settlements, but their policies merely kept within the borders of Elysium proper. Thus --after negotiations with the Britannian government-- The Elysian Union emerged, with as goal creating a supranational political/economic union based of Elysium nations. Defending democracy and stimulating world peace and order, counting five member-states today while still growing in size. Not always has the Western Republic been one knitted cooperative country.. Counting two-hundred-fifty years in the past the Republic was a confusion split up in uncountable political, ethnic and religious entities, which actually descent back from the Ougadougu (PR:Wogodogo) revolution prior to about three-thousand years BC.

As at that time the West was originally found by the Ougadougu empire, an ancient African tribe with its own culture, tradition and heritage. Olgu I was the considered first Ougadougan to call himself a king of a land stretching from West to Northwest Americana, and further spread till the shores of Stedicules. Largely occupied by desert and savannah, while finally bordering with tropical environment. Priorly is assumed the Ougadougu nomads would travel from West to mid Elysium with a distance of uncountable miles. Though ever since Olgu I was king that changed, Olgu the first concentrated on the northern half of his empire (where The West resides) and would make a conceivable gold-rich empire, while leaving the southern desert empty and unprotected. Once Olgu I died, his son Olgu II proceeded his kingship. He would build advanced bridges, and landmarks (Which some of them today still exist). And it was then, when the Olgu empire would finally move towards mid-to-southern Elysium. Where he would fight against other native Elysium tribes and make his tribe the dominant one. The inhabitants of his empire that were at the same time loyal to Olgu the second, he would call honourable Ougadougus, which partially referenced to his name Olgu.

During the 15th century a modern civilisation discovered The West, The Ardans. the French-speaking colonialists have made the first step on Ougadougan land. And named it; Terre de grande sécheresse, or shortened sécheresse, which is the Ardan meaning of The land of the dryness. Possibly referred to the unending desert encircling The West. Their first settlement have been made an official city named d'Artagnan (Which today is the most populous city in the West). Large amounts of Ougadougus were either kept as slave or murdered. Though, the Ardans did not went more inland than the Eastern coast, and their proclaimed d'Artagnan settlement.

During the 17th century another modern civilisation discovered The West, The Britannians. As the Britannians boarded West, they started making several naval settlements. Their vessels would have a save harbour in the West. In such the West-coast was discovered. It provided them plenty of resources, under which gold and Iron which cored underground. The Ardan kept their d'Artagnan settlement, but other than that their interest was never whole West as this laid in predominantly Desert. This was favoured by the Britannians, and so they settled in the West with massive numbers and never really had incidents among their Ardan neighbours. The Ougadougou population however was not favoured by both much but rather kept as slave, (Although the majority of Britannians civilians respected them, and would only attack out of self-defence.) The Ougadougus agreed to live together with the Britannians. The West was officially named: The Western Colonies with as capital Westley, governed by the royal house in Kensington, Reformed Britannia.

Though this all changed in 1755 when rebellion tried to provoke the Britannians for "Western" independence. People had the choice to be called either Westerner or Britannian. Westerners were indifferent in comparison to Britannians based on ethnicity, But there was a huge economic barren. The Westerners were poor, while the Britannians were wealthy and rich. This however, was something not liked by the Westerners, nor did they prefer occupation by the rich. While on the other hand, the Britannians found it rediculous, and wanted unification with their own people. War broke out as C. Hangris (one of those Rebellion Western fighters) made up a formal defence to overrun the Britannians, they seeked independence from Britannia. Gradually rebellion made the people Loyal to Britannians, or Britannians flee back to the commonwealth of Reformed Britannia.

During this war of independence another civilisation boarded The West. Prutons. Prutons never had violent intentions. They only wanted to settle in the West coast so it could provide Prutenia with plenty of spices and resources. Their population increased with thousands, in such they adopted the English language being communicatively-open to the Britannians that resided there. The Amish community have also spread in the West during that time. When the war ended under victory conditions of the rebellious Westerners, the name "The Western Colonies" was changed to The Western Republic. The Ardans could not see any beneficial factor in the d'Artagnan settlement, because of the distance with Ardan mainland in Aschenkeilern, and so they sold d'Artagnan for a cheap price to the Western Republic. The people however stayed in d'Artagnan and started adopting English, while keeping their native French as their main language. And so the Western Republic made up a cooperative society of Prutons, Ardans, Britannians and Ougadougus. While Protestantism, Léxure, Prut-Protestanism, Rashobic Judaism were head religious courses.

While finally at the beginning stadium of the 19th century. The Rusich exponentially immigrated within the Western Republic. They peacefully joined the mixture of nations. There were not real incidental conflicts found. Furthermore they also began adopting the Western traditions. In such, mastering the English language.

This multi-ethnic society began to grew while keeping their traditions. But gradually the term Westerner was preferred by all ethnic groups in the West. Acknowledged by quotes of an famous Pruton-Western philosopher, dedicated to the city of Veridian.
”Wir werden unsere Träume der Zukunft erfüllen, und stolz sein auf die Dinge die wir in der Vergangenheit getan haben. Veridian, über das wir sprechen, Veridian, das wir bekommen werden, und das gegeben werden muss.
~ Herman Kreuzenheid 1835-1912.”

”We shall fulfill our future dreams, and be proud of the things we have accomplished. Veridian city we speak of, Veridian city is what we shall get, and shall be given.”
~ Herman Kreuzenheid 1835-1912.

The moral to this story is, what would happen if a Tetrakon nation encountered another Tetrakon nation? Would that mean that the Westerners would fight themselves, and face total destruction of the once-so-great society?

by **Neo Prutenia** » Mon Dec 19, 2011 5:11 pm

Here I stand in my field uniform, camo and everything in front of the Rusich chancellor and listen to her story and speech. Damnable woman, what did you expect to see in front of you? Did you think a venerable Veleslav senior officer would enter, in full regalia and with sabre and a bottle of vodka as a gift? Ridiculous civilian, ridiculous woman, why do you keep talking? Am I even hiding my disinterest and hint of anger at such a waste of time? Probably not. Then again, you seem quite absorbed in your story. You had me at Voroshilov?, anything beyond that and perhaps a handshake is unnecessary. Might as well listen to the end. We’re both professionals, sadly, not in the same profession. Yours is talking, mine is making sure people like you get the opportunity to keep talking. At least it isn’t one of those expected I continued daddies work stories, though you aren’t worse than the Pruton. Barely. Oh, we stand on even ground? Seriously? You are worse than the Pruton. He at least had the common decency to tell me exactly on whose mercy my life depended and who spared me. Even ground my arse, I might as well be on my knees and beg for your Army. The only thing you need me for is minimizing your losses and preventing those Prutonic snakes from nuking half-Aschenkeilern into oblivion, and we both know that. However, the audacity to actually question my motivation and agenda is the second worst insult I had to endure. Finished finally? My turn.

“Chancellor Novko, I came here combat ready and dressed appropriately expecting someone from your Nation’s military brass, someone who actually can understand the weight of my decision to come here, under these circumstances and for this reason. I certainly did not expect a flowery speech and questioning from my own blood – those are Prutonic traits, not ours. The Rusich I know are a business-minded and efficient race, not talkers and time wasters. If you have nothing more to add to the table – I use my free hand to point towards it without taking my eyes from her, I feel she needs to have this expression of gravity so apparent on my face branded into her mind – then I’d kindly like to sit down and start talking business. We don’t have time to waste, I don’t have time to waste. So, if you have any doubts about my intentions here or have any doubts about my competence, feel free to dismiss the whole issue this instant, because you, Chancellor Novko are already disappointing me.

However, as a man who can not return to his home Nation and his own people – I did cross the border knowing there would be no return, save on the back of a Rusich tank rolling through Lyssychansk- I have nothing left to lose and everything to gain from full cooperation – I turn around to face the assembly on the table, this was the only time during this reply that I lifted my gaze from Novko – Brothers in blood we are, I did not expect you to become my new home. I speak on my own tongue from Taganrog, you speak your northern language, yet we understand each other perfectly. I wear the uniform of a home denied, the only remnant of my purpose, my identity, you wear the uniform of your home; tell me, any one of you; Do you doubt my sincerity? Do you doubt the infinite contempt I feel for the Grey viper that prowls through my home poisoning my kind? Do you doubt my deep sorrow, the silent pain I feel in my heart for deceiving my own kind, selling their security to save them from their short-sightedness? Do you doubt my burning anger towards those same fools who sold our sovereignty? Do you doubt that I would wage war against Hell itself to restore our sacred freedom? – I turn my gaze towards no point in particular, stopping for a short moment, then facing the Chancellor I continue- I have nothing hide.

I stand here before you, naked, but not helpless. I know every spot in Veleslavia, I know every blade of grass and every tree, I know every base, every installation and every station of my home, but more than anything else, I know the Prutons. They have been skulking in Veleslavia for the last two decades, trading and talking, plying their trade; I’ve seen their towers of glass rise in our cities, I saw their vessels domineering our harbours, the shadows of their submarines ploughing through our waters and canals, their goods being sold in our shops, their advisors slowly taking over our industry, economy, infrastructure, education, legal system, everything. I know the Prutons inherently, yet unlike many of my countrymen, I know them more intimately because I also served with them. The Veleslav Army – the Trikolorka – and the Prut Armed Forces have been cooperating since the last seven years. Many of our officers where sent to re-education and “updating” to ANP and Hesperia, I was among them. After my return I quit the Army, as I saw what would happen, since then I went into politics. You know how that turned out, but my network is strong. Many feel like me, many who are still in the Army or other valuable positions. I know their protocols, their rules of engagement and their conduct in battle. In this here suitcase – I raise my left hand, the case still cuffed on it - is a detailed plan of attack which would enable the Rusich Army to easily bypass strong points, rapidly move through eastern Veleslavia, encircle Belovrh and capture Taganrog before the Prutons have a chance to retaliate or develop counter-measures. The plan is useless without me and my network.”

I open the handcuffs and move towards the end of the table, where I assume my seat ought to be, since opposite of it is another fancier one which I presume will house Novko’s bottom during this business. Without sitting I just place the suitcase in front of me and deliberately open the locks slowly – first the left, with that satisfying “klop” sound, then the right, “klop” – then I turn it around, so that the content will face the assembly when I open it.

“I know the enemy, I know the battlefield, I know how to save 18 million Veleslavs and I know how to prevent the death of 380 million Rusich while saving those Veleslavs. With your Army I can win this war within two months and I have the skills and expertise to vindicate these claims. Pani Novko, Tovaryshi, I did not come as an orphan, for I will take back my home, I did not come here as a turncoat, for my loyalty will always be with my people, I did not come here with empty hands, for I will fight with the weapons I brought, I did not come here as a mercenary, for money cannot buy me back my dignity; I came here in front of you all to present the plan with which Veleslavia will be liberated and to act as the instrument of that liberation. You know in your hearts, in your blood, my motivation is pure, my affiliation doubtless, my determination boundless. I ask you to hear me out. If no one has any objections or anything else to add, would you allow me now to uncover the “sword” which will cut the vipers head clean off?”

by **Rusikstan** » Thu Dec 22, 2011 8:33 pm

I could feel the contempt for this imp of a man rising within me with each word that he spoke at me. No one speaks to me in such a manner, let alone will they get away with lecturing me as if I was some child. Who does this man believe that he is? What gives him the right to believe that I have no understanding of his course? He knows neither of my past nor of my family. He acts as if he is the only one to have suffered hardship. My childhood may have been privileged, but that doesn’t mean I have not felt the pain of abandonment. This wild man would dare wander into my nation to seek my help. It is enough to make one sick to their stomach. You do not simply walk into one’s home and insult them. You do not bite the hand that is trying to feed you, or in this case free. There was something about this man though, the way his words at first ablated my ears only to sooth them back with his words, while not exactly of but resembling, repentance.

With these softer words, I can feel my heart turning. Here was another feeling coming along with my contempt. I almost can’t fight this smirk trying to cross my face while he was talking. This is a feeling that I haven’t felt in a long while. This man intrigues me, and I can’t help, but admit a slight arousal from his passion. I am to pay no attention to these feelings, I assure myself of this. This common peasant will be dead by his own hand before he leaves this room. His presence here was enough to assure his death upon his return to his country, an endeavor made by the enemy that I will not even attempt to halt. His life ended the moment he crossed the border and I am no benefactor of this man. He is merely a pawn in my game, another square to be placed over. All pawns have the potential to be sacrificed depending on how you play this game called war, and I fully intend to move his piece first. I will miss him if he does go, though. The thought of my opponents move and his end titillates the senses. I can feel the chill move through my spine. It appears he is finished and ready, but I can’t let his opening bash go unpunished.

I returned his gaze with more intensity. I would end now, for we could easily go back and forth forever. An endless debate is not what we need, it would be best for the both of us if I went my way.

“Mr. Voroshilov, I care not how you come to me. Men and boys can play dress up all they wish. A uniform means nothing. A tale of the times is all they serve. In revolutions, tailors become colonels and take on the responsibilities of generals. Boys place on their finest boots, unaware which boot is for which foot. They were their weapons in the open and swear like sailors, as if to establish some false sense of superiority. The ones who yesterday held pen and paper to bear arms the next are dangerous to all, and embellish their importance. Your ability to conduct war will prove you, not your uniform, a piece of mind you should remember.” I began to wag my finger at him as I would a child, “I care even less for the tone that you carry around me. You should learn to keep your tongue in check, and not let it spew words from your mouth that you will come to regret. I shall conduct business how I so chose and you are of no position to question from which Rusich mold I was cast.” I folded my arms behind my back and begin to walk toward the door. “Your emotional appeals, should you chose to carry on with talk of blood and language, to these dogs of war shall fall on deaf ears. We know who we are, and we know what you are. Now, as you said, is not the time to waste with pathetic pleas to our kindred people. It is indeed necessary to act and not to hesitate. Minutes shall be worth hours in the coming days. I’ll leave you, Mr. Voroshilov, in the capable hands of my war ministry. The Marshal shall inform me of the progress you have made, when I have the time. Good day.”

---
With that Maria left the room, passing Mr. Voroshilov on her way out. As she walked by she gave Voroshilov an unnerving wink. The War ministry sat silent as she left, and watching her leave the room. They all shifted in their chairs, Maria made the emotionless Rusich war ministry uneasy.The War ministry weren't usually as meak as this, but they felt drained after such an exchange. As Voroshilov said, they were business minded and efficient.Following after Maria was a hard sell. The men were all very experienced in their fields, but exactly how to salvage a repetoire was not in their backgrounds. Usually it was the politicans that would build the relations, but it was not so in this case. War Marshal Entin in ‘dress black’, as it was called, with his golden coils roped around his arm, designating his rank, stood and walked over to Voroshilov. He determined that it was his duty to break the ice with their guest.
---

Now that the chancellor’s show was finished, it was about time to get to work. I didn’t approve of her stunt in the slightest, nor did I particularly want her here today for fear that she would make such a scene. There was nothing that I could do though; when the woman wanted something done it was going to get done, regardless. She should really mind her advisors, but who am I to make such an appeal to her. Hopefully, this won't end in catastrophe and we can get things back on track.

I approached Mr. Voroshilov with my hand outstretched, “It’s a pleasure, sir. I hope that you found the chancellor to be…as enchanting as the people find her.” I hope that my inflection of the word enchanting would be caught. The Chancellor is an interesting woman, but she is often times a bit demanding and abrasive. I can’t really understand her actions the majority of time, a sporadic individual at worst. “Whenever, you are ready to present sir, we are ready to listen. Hopefully this will go smoothly from now on.” A firm handshake can go far, but to repair the image of Rusichland after Maria’s impression would require more.

by **Neo Prutenia** » Thu Dec 29, 2011 3:28 pm

Silly woman, silly civilian; I hope I’ll never end up like this. And… you’re gone. Perfect. Wait, was that a… Must have imagined it. Never mind that now Viktor, the first person to approach you must be the real go-to person. Let’s see – ceremonial uniform, black with gold, probably Army – my sort of man – strong handshake, serious attitude. The fact that you show remorse for Novko’s behaviour is a good indicator that you know what you’re doing. I gift you with a brotherly smile and just a slight bow, more a very small tilt of the head, to show my consideration. The name tag says Etin and Novko addressed you as Marshal, so will I.

“Marshal Etin, yes? Likewise, I’m honoured to be here, among peers. Alas, I’d prefer to meet under different conditions, but still, I’m glad that my plea has not fallen on deaf ears. One civilian leader elected by the arbitrary Proles won’t diminish my high opinion about Rusichland. Tovarysh, the formalities are over, please take a seat, and I’ll proceed; I believe that after my presentation and your evaluation of it I’ll earn the same level of respect and regard I’m currently showing to you. You are the true Rusich, my true brothers, people like your Chancellor come and go, in every country, but what this nation is made of and what makes this a great Nation is embodied in the individuals sitting at this table. Sadly, the last remnant of what made Veleslavia is also standing at this table. Hopefully, we’ll prevent that last ember from dying out.”

While waiting for Etin to sit back down and everyone to confirm by word or gesture that they’re ready, I open the suitcase. I had five copies of my plans be prepared, they will hopefully suffice here, so that everyone could follow what I would be talking about – a map of eastern Veleslavia with several key spots marked appropriately was the essential part for understanding the plan. Once distributed, I continue:

“I am Viktor Lvovich Voroshilov, former Generál-Polkóvnik of the Veleslav Armed Forces, Strategic branch - Former only because my Nation as such ceased to exist because of betrayers from within. Last year, in mid-2009, Veleslavia was incorporated into the Prut Meritocracy, a crime against Veleslav sovereignty which can neither be tolerated nor can be left unpunished. After being witness to the political upheavals, ‘restructuration’, purges and systematic elimination of dissidents and the opposition, as well as after being part of the ‘update’ and common ‘exercise and exchange’ programmes with the Pruwam, the Prut Armed Forces, I’m one of the few man who both knows with what we have to fight here and how deep the viper’s poison has penetrated into their victims, and I’m also one of the few remaining leaders of the opposition. I spent most of the 2008-2009 period preparing for this situation, but even I never expected that the Veleslav people have been so thoroughly blinded as to agree to such a demeaning union. Nevertheless, I have a vast network of Veleslav loyalists – friends, former colleagues, contacts and supporters – under my command. However, the sneaky Prutons knew what they were doing and prepared as well; not wanting to risk a full-scale rebellion, they sent their bloodhounds against us, in the form of their Kampfgruppen, stationed at strategic locations throughout Veleslavia. Tovaryshi, we’re having business with a very cunning, careful and persuasive foe who won’t be fooled into open confrontation or a social trap; the only hope for restoring Veleslavia is military action. Why military action? Because it’s the only thing they are not prepared for.

The Prut possess a vast, well-trained and well-equipped Army, but it is sitting in ANP, far away from Veleslavia to help in any meaningful manner. Instead, these fiends rely on scare tactics and weapons of mass destruction to ward of potential enemies. However, being familiar with their strategy and tactics, I know several ways to circumvent their policies and eliminate the threat from both Belovrh in Veleslavia, our premier Strategic Defense base, and ANP’s missile installations. Without their cowardly threats of nuclear exchange, the Prut Meritocracy won’t be able to hold on to Veleslavia, the Pruwam won’t be able to dislodge us from our entrenched positions, the Trikolorka will soon fall under pressure and the Prutons will get quickly tired of the war. ANP already has little desire to keep Veleslavia. The current political and military situation in Neo Prutenia works in our favour. With one decisive land campaign and blocking off the eastern sea, an isolated Veleslavia can be taken with minimal fighting after just a few months of siege and proper order can be restored. If this summary makes things sound easy, it’s because in fact they are easy. For the operation to work properly however, three things must be done in the correct order.

Namely, first, no war must be declared. Under no circumstances must Rusichland declare war on Neo Prutenia. The Prut Strategic Arsenal is under the strict control of their Kanzler and civilian government, until a state of war is declared. If we mask the operation properly, their Parliament won’t declare war on us for violating ‘their’ sovereignty, or at least it won’t declare war in time. This gives us a tremendous advantage, as even Belovrh is now under Prut command. Once the date for the ‘Invasion’ has been established, my organization, the Protysoyuziks, will start several demonstrations and revolts around the land, clashing with local forces. Disguised Loyalists will later use deadly force on some of the protesters in a way which won’t escape the media, giving Tetrakon reason to believe that the situation in Veleslavia is not as stable as the Prut want us to think it is. The very same night, Rusich forces will cross the borders at specially designated areas; you can see the specific crossing under the numbers 12 to 34 on the maps given to you. Basically, these crossing will enable you to avoid the Northern Army group while capturing settlements and key transportation hubs. We must always keep in mind that Taganrog is our strategic goal. Rusich forces will claim to act as peacekeepers, intervening to stabilize their border and protect the interests of their ethnic brothers in the area. Wild accusation of fraud will liberally be thrown at the Prut – we must give off the impression that the referendum was rigged and that the people in Veleslavia are protesting but being silenced. That will put the Prutons off balance, as they’ll avoid to spoil relations with a ‘concerned’ Rusichland. Rusichland will use military and political pressure to demand of Neo Prutenia to recognize her peacekeeping mission in the area. By then, a few days will have been past, if we have luck without a single bullet having been fired, and key positions will held by our forces.

This will be the cue for the next phase; As much as I stress that we must not declare war, it is of even higher importance to take great pains to not harm civilians and civilian infrastructure. Fast-moving Helicopter units and adequately trained and prepared troops will do us a big favour here, especially if reinforcements arrive soon. We’ll easily win over the locals and avoid give reasons to the Prutons to suspect our true motivations. But, by this point conflict with the Trikolorka will become inevitable. The Pruton’s hesitance will split the High Command and Army Group North will try to kick out the Rusich. Do not worry, this is actually desirable. In fact, I even have secondary plans and auxiliary background operations in place, in case the Trikolorka retains a cool head to provoke them to attack. A little sabotage here, an assassination there, a few accusations and planting of false evidence will do wonders to sow chaos and discontent in such a tense situation. With my agents working in the background and all sides accusing each other of illegal activity, we must force the Trikolorka to act rashly. Once they open fire, we will be forced to self-defend and we’ll get the ideal excuse that the Prutons are conspiring to prevent the Rusich from finding out the truth – that the referendum was indeed rigged and that the people have been lied to. Literally dozens of witnesses and Rusich-supporters, all my agents, will spring up with fabricated stories and evidence to support their claims and this accusation and that they can only now act while Rusich forces are there to protect them. Because we’ll already be in control of vital routes around the northern Army group, one firm push and they will retreat. We must not corner or follow them, it’s imperative that they leave eastern Veleslavia, at best all the way west to Slovendom, because we need them out of the way to encircle Belovrh. Belovrh must take priority over any other objective, as once the base is surrounded, Veleslavia will lose any strategic capability to strike beyond her borders, as our forward positions will allow us to intercept any missiles bound for the north. Further, they won’t use their arsenal on Rusich forces, because they will be neatly situated in or next to nice Veleslav settlements, villages and cities, some of them taken in phase one, some now during the clash with the Northern Army group. Next is Taganrog, it’s the only industrial harbour in Veleslavia capable of supplying, serving and supporting a serious navy or fleet. With Taganrog in our hands, ANP won’t be able to dock a serious force in Veleslavia and with Belovrh encircled, a strategic exchange becomes highly unlikely. Belovrh will be on the defensive, so the base per se must not be attacked, else a nervous finger might slip and launch, but Belovrh is not the only strategic asset of Veleslavia.

This leads us to phase three. By now, the Prut will either have declared war or more likely threaten to consider any further penetration into Veleslavia as an act of war and react accordingly, but it won’t matter. We already have achieved our strategic goals, now begins the siege. For this phase to work, we must block any Prut naval access to Veleslavia – literally all ships. Meanwhile, the Trikolorka will be on full warpath and the Prut forces already in Veleslavia will do likewise, so we need to concentrate our assets to the west of Belovrh. The most likely outcome is that the Trikolorka will entrench themselves east of Slovendom, the main railway city and transportation hub leading into the heart of Veleslavia to prevent the city from falling. That city is also the last area where my direct influence extends, as west of it East Slaws are sparse. Taking Slovendom is entirely optional, but in my opinion unnecessary, since the other theatre ballistic weapons will be used to prevent any further intrusion into Veleslavia, including nukes. Depending on circumstances, ‘hungering’ out the civilians and slowly bleeding dry the Trikolorka in skirmishes should lower morale quick enough to make them surrender within 4 to 6 months. By late summer, if Prut intervention is prevented, Veleslavia will seek an armistice, ANP will have to deal with revolts demanding that the government annuls the referendum and Veleslavia will be a free Nation again, thankful to Rusichland for liberating it. During the siege, our propaganda machinery will enable us to ‘prove’ that the results of the 2009 referendum were a lie and that Veleslavia ought to be free, and because we took pains to protect civilians and ensured their well0being, the populace will believe us, same way they believed the Prutonic snakes.

You will need me as the general coordinator of the effort in Veleslavia and you need my network prior to, during and especially after the conflict to stabilize and win over the region. I guarantee you that Veleslavia will align itself with Rusichland after the war, once everything is over and Bela Luka surrenders. A few purges later, and we’ll be rid of the Prutons once and for all. If you followed the map while I was talking you probably also noticed that in most circumstances you will either be ‘lead’ by one of my agents directly or meet up with one or several of them in various places. Even possible battlefields with Army Group North have been mapped out, as well as the possible places the Kampfgruppen might retreat too. Chryse will likely try to secure Taganrog, in example. The simplicity of the plan greatly reduces the chance of anything going wrong, and at worst we’ll just have to fight a weakened Trikolorka a week earlier than scheduled, while Pruwam will never get a chance to set foot in the area. The only variables are sticking to the three phase plans and conditions – no war declaration from our side, encircling but not taking Belovrh, taking Taganrog, preventing civilian harm or discontent at all costs, blocking off Prut access and isolating Veleslavia – as long as your forces act as I laid it out here, everything will go smoothly.

Now, are there any objections, or can we start planning the whole thing and dive into the details?”

And then I heartily smiled, out of relief. It’s foolproof, and comically easy to execute, more a statement about Prutonic negligence and naivety than Rusich capability, as anyone with a few hundred thousands soldiers to spare could handle this operation.

by **Rusikstan** » Thu Jan 05, 2012 4:25 pm

The ministry hung on every word of Viktor’s intently, following his speech by observing the maps and other pieces of intelligence that lay out before them. It was a treasure of trove to say the least. Everything that was need for the liberation of Veleslavia was before them, in meticulous detail. It would seem that nearly every angle had been covered and if even that particular angle failed there was a backup. The minister’s recognized though, that even a carefully planned attack could fail and that there was no plan that was fool proof. The ministry pored over the documents looking for the slightest flaw in the plans, looking for evidence of possible disasters. That would be something to be avoid, a Rusich defeat early on, or even on this side of the continent at all would be a serious blow the prestige of the Rusich armed forces and no doubt put the Rusich in a position of weakness. While the Rusich forces were undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with, if they lost so close to home it would destroy this crafted image something that could not happen.

When Viktor had stopped talking the faces of the faces of the war ministry were melancholic. They looked at each other appraisingly, faces showing expression of uncertainty. The plans gave great confidence and none doubted there exceptional nature, but the underlying feeling of war kept them from cheers. That was the case for most, except for the face of War Marshal Etin. Etin was staring directly at Viktor with his hand covering his mouth in a near thinking-man like position. As the other ministers looked in silence at the plans and back at each other, Etin took this moment to lean back in his chair, placing his hands on its rests before leaning forward once again to look over the maps. He turned to the ministers, nodded and smiled at which they smiled back.

Etin began to speak; “Mr. Voroshilov, I can say with backing by my ministry here, that this is quite a plan. To be quite honest, we didn’t not know what to expect when the chancellor told us that we were going to be advised on courses of action by a solider of Veleslavia. That is what she said, a soldier . I can see plainly now, and must apologize for my…our previous thoughts, a mere soldier you are not. A true General we have in our presence. She couldn’t have been more wrong, but what does the madam know eh? Now, I must drop the pleasantries and apologies for we do have business.” He looked down and read over the layout once again, “I can’t see anything that could be a problem. All this seems straight forward and easy. The 4th and 5th Calvary divisions can start things off sending in some battalions to act as peace keepers and regulators. We can move more divisions in as necessary under the guise of these peace keeping operations.” Pointing at the map, “These passes you’ve marked should be easy to hold open and move troops in, but if we receive trouble later on it could become messy so more entrances will need to be secured at least after initial phases.”

“For the second phase of operations getting helos in shouldn’t be a problem as long as hostilities haven’t increased and the threat of being shot down low. We can fly high or low, we’ll make the call when the time comes. I’d prefer to fly them low and under, and I believe that how most of the forces train for these conditions. All of this shouldn’t give anyone a problem until we decide to make a move on Belovrh. Grabbing Belovrh has me worried. I don’t like the idea of the use of strategic weapons in any case, but I know that they wouldn’t be hesitant to use them if necessary or if the opportunity made it worth the use. Effectively neutralizing them doesn’t seem enough; if possible I’d like that ability to be neutralized totally. I feel confident we can do it quick and clean. We can leave Slovendom, that seems fine, but Belovrh seems a bit dangerous to just surround and ignore. The negruvbreti, special forces, should be able infiltrate and take them out.”

“When we begin to engage the Trikolorka, we’ll make sure that we have secured and extended supply lines along with the necessary buildup of easily forward rushing reinforcements." He waved his hand over the map as if to imply the vast expanse of the logistical network he intended to create, "The same will be taken into consideration when we begin to fight the Prut forces. Lloyd, what is the current status of the Navy? What tasks and fleets are available to block off Taganrog when the time comes?”

Navy Minister Lloyd looked over the plans and time tables of his deployments, “I believe so. The eastern ports currently have the 4th mariner fleet, submarines, and the 3rd Task, a carrier group, both ready for deployment. We have two tasks, the 7th and 9th, and mariners, 2nd and 3rd, on the west that can also be deployed. Each is typically meant to be used in defense of the respective ports, but the idea of a counter-attack doesn’t seem likely, at least not in the immediate deployment. We can have them back and pull other units before we’ll need to worry, at least hopefully. These forces are always stationed in these areas so they shouldn’t draw any attention. We have another task, the 2nd, currently running operations in the waters near Jarridia. Another mariner, the 1st, is currently off the north of the coast of Drackonisa. If necessary we can call these units back early and use them in this engagement as well. They’ll need to be pulled back and help defend the eastern seas in case of a Prutenian naval deployment in the area. We have a couple of tasks that will be unable to help in this endeavor, as they are currently in operations to support the Coalition. Otherwise the current status of the Navy in region seems to show us in good favor. Good enough to thwart Veleslav and Prutenian naval operations within this zone” He drew a circle that include the sea surrounding Veleslavia and spread east to the coasts of Avenio and Lexmark. "Outside of this our ability to project will dwindle unless we can re-commit units from other areas. Any further toward the Prutenian Mainland will prove deadly, not that we should need that much space to conclude this confict."

“Excellent,” replied Etin, “Anything to add General Voroshilov?”

by **Neo Prutenia** » Sun Jan 22, 2012 12:27 pm

“Yes marshal Etin, a few comments and a few clarifications I feel necessary. You seem to underestimate the size, staff and protocols of Belovrh. Belovrh is not a hole in the ground or a cave in hill, it is a huge mountain complex, a network of intermingled natural cave systems and man-made tunnels. It houses its own air base, it has several easily defendable access points and it has well-hidden hatches pointing in all cardinal directions even larger than the air base from where it can bombard anything up 2000 km with barrages of missile fire. By all accounts, it is the most advanced military asset of Veleslavia. Using conventional means to capture it would take years and inflict intolerable casualties. While I don’t doubt the Negruvbretis skill and tactical capabilities, no one can infiltrate Belovrh. You’d have to fight your way through it. While a small force could avoid being detected and pre-emptively eliminated by missile attacks, it would lack the sufficient numbers and resources to take on the complex, and Belovrh has its own protection.

There’s also another issue, a more important one. Belovrh will launch all nuclear assets at its disposal at the offending party as soon as it becomes obvious that it will be taken by hostiles. The commanders there are on standing orders to do so, as losing Belovrh automatically means losing the war for Veleslavia. The Trikolorka would rather pursue mutually assured destruction than allow the subjugation of the Veleslav people. Why do you think did the damnable Prut first target Belovrh for their reforms? It’s now full with their loyalists. The last thing we need is provoking a nuclear exchange and if you put your mind to it, you’ll see that everyone would react similarly in such a situation. As far as I can tell from your line of thinking, Rusichland never fought a nuclear power, and least not directly. No shame in that, thankfully very, very few officers have experience with such operations, but the Prut have, and instead of learning it the hard way like them, let’s be smart about this and learn from their attempts.

Few people know about this and it’s a public secret in the Pruwam, but during the Hesperian intervention, when they had their Civil War the Prutons joined the fray in the mid-60s on the side of the Anarchists and Socialists and had several operations aimed at dislodging the Reactionaries and liberating Cuenca. The Reactionary commanders however had access to several tactical nuclear weapons and they decided to use them on the capital in case it fell. The Snakes knew this, but chose not to tell their allies, for fear they might hesitate during the fight. Instead, the Prutons actively provoked the reactionaries to use them by cutting off their forces in an encircled Cuenca and captured the mountains around it. Sneaky as they were, they gambled on Garcia launching only one warhead, which he did. That’s when they used a well-planned strike to take out the Reactionaries radar installations and mobile radars, which they were forced to use to navigate the missile. The missile was luckily intercepted, but without their radar network, the reactionaries were effectively blinded and could no longer utilize their nuclear assets. Without the network, neither their bombers nor missiles could be navigated through the Hesperian mountains and by losing Cuenca, Reactionary forces were split in two and easily subdued.

The Snakes realized that when pushed, those with nuclear bombs will use them, so they decided to dictate the terms of their use. Once they had their sentries, interceptors and anti-radiation missile batteries ready, they overwhelmed the already panicking Reactionaries and decapitated them in one fell swoop. The rest of the nukes were recovered. A similar approach must be used for Belovrh. Pounding on it will only provoke a response and unlike forty years ago, modern missile systems are much more difficult to intercept. We need to blind Belovrh, by taking out all radar installations around the mountain and cutting off all communication with the rest of the country – by itself a difficult task – once we have accomplished this, Belovrh is out of the picture. It will still exist to lend a faux sense of security, but it won’t be able to utilize its assets to strike a serious blow. As long as it just sits out the war, everything will be fine.

Etin, we don’t, no, we mustn’t panic the Trikolorka leaders, we must wear them down. We need a carefully executed siege, not glorious assaults and displays of bravado. Keep that action for the inevitable clash with the Prutons. Killing the Veleslav will to fight and killing the Prutonic fighters, it’s as simple as that. I urge you to reconsider any direct actions against Belovrh, I appeal to your reason and logic; don’t take unnecessary risks.

As for the rest, it seems we’re pretty much set. I’m not a navy officer, so I won’t mingle into your naval policy, but I feel the need to mention this as well. The Prut carrier group around Vrangelgrad is most likely the largest Prutonic naval presence in the area, though no doubt they have a submarine here and there. Their vessels are more advanced than the Veleslav ones around Taganrog and Soluna, but they are close to the coast and enjoy the protection from land-based military airports and camps. Their radar systems are very advanced, so I’d avoid sending planes down there – the Prutons will find them and Walbrich will shoot them down. The area west of the Kasperek canal, especially around the three islands is not inhabited so it’s heavily mined and the local ships will soon mine the waters as well when the conflict escalates.“

I pause, take a deep breath while looking to the side at no one in particular; I tap my fingers on the table, starting with the pinkie and rhythmically banging them against the surface finishing with the index finger, repeating this process several times, then I whisper barely a audible ’I need something to drink…’ more to myself than anyone in the room. Afterwards I slam my hand quickly against the table without raising it, just to stop tapping with my fingers, then I turn my head back to the lethargic assembly:

“Tovaryshi, are we now ready to behead the Snake and liberate Veleslavia?”

by **Rusikstan** » Sun Feb 19, 2012 11:54 pm

“I understand. I will, though hesitant, accept these conditions when dealing with Belovrh. Understand that I am not happy about leaving such an asset in the hands of the enemy even if blinded. The scariest thing to fight is own that knows it will die. How to maintain enough morale on the enemy side to prevent the use of these weapons was not my concern, the use of the weapons is. Wearing the enemy down will take time and leave the Chancellor uneasy. I will need to calm her fears of a prolonged war if we are to do as you say. Undoubtedly she will want this conflict to be done with as soon as possible. She expects this of you and I. If we can’t deliver that General, then I pray to God that we can escape the Chancellors grasp. Take that as no threat, but a promise. One that I personally hope never needs fulfilling.” I paused and pulled the edges of my collar. I’m supposed to tell Maria that we are leaving nuclear weapons in the hands of an opponent despite the fact that we have them surrounded. That will not go over well. My comment to Voroshilov was watered down, but if I told the man of her intentions should we fail, well I doubted he’d remain much longer.

I looked over at Lloyd who seemed puzzled by the display before us. “Speak Lloyd; I can see your mind wandering. Do not hold your breath; what say you?”

“To be bluntly honest, and I mean no disrespect, I did not expect our Veleslav brothers would be willing to provoke such travesty that nuclear war is. I see now that believing that the Prut would leave the asset in Veleslav hands was a…miscalculation on my part. However that said, they have their own on the inside, a completely Prut controlled facility would be unacceptable surely. No matter how silver the tongue, there must be some elements on the inside that would be sympathetic to our cause? Could not these veleslavs be reminded of their patriotic duty, to their country and their people, to be lured from the snake and his vice?”

“While I see your intention Lloyd, and as admirable as the thought is, we are going to proceed as Voroshilov instructs. This is his land and his people. If we had a person on the inside he would have informed us of that to begin with, before we started. Since this is not the case, we can only assume that the compound has no one that is partial to our cause. We should assume that all people are tainted by the venomous bite of the reform. Do not worry your mind with the issue on nuclear weapons. I understand the concern, truly I do. Though let me remind your gentlemen we have dealt with nations boasting nuclear armament in the past. We were able to effectively subvert their arms, as we shall do here. Only this time we must be much more careful. Our other operations were far from home and we had plenty of time to intercept should we miss something vital. This situation is different; we are much closer to home and should take efforts in baby steps. In essence, I concur with the good general. Lloyd, what you must do is take heed of what Voroshilov mentioned, the threats to your assets and plan accordingly.”

“It has been done sir, we have been…watching.”

I nodded at Lloyd, “That will have to conclude this meeting gentlemen. I will need to inform the Chancellor, and make a few adjustments. All in all, most of what the General has provided fits nicely into the plans we have made. Excuse me, and Dismissed.”
The men surrounding the table clicked their heels and saluted Etin. Etin, in turn, faced Voroshilov and saluted before exiting the room. While leaving, Etin called back, “Should you need anything General ask the page he shall provide you with all you need.”
---
Pillars of Arcturus
Meeting Place of Maria & Etin

Maria is standing amongst the pillars, leaning casually against one. She faces the reflecting edge of the river, set before the pillars. The small water path can be heard along with the song of many birds. The tranquil scene is interrupted by the sound of an approaching vehicle, a government plated Svarsas J09S. The vehicle comes to halt before the foot path leading to pillars. Out of the rear of the vehicles steps Marshal Etin. He walks the path up to Maria.
“
Marshal, I am…surprised to see you so soon. I had thought that your meeting with Mr. Voroshilov would take…well longer. “

“No ma’am, the meeting was quite productive, but didn’t require much time at all. We were able to plan for most scenarios before Mr.
Voroshilov arrived and while some changes are necessary, we are able to keep most developments the same. We…”

Maria cut him off before he could continue, “Etin, I have entrusted this matter to you. While I do wish to know about the operations a simple briefing is all and on paper is fine. Right now, I do not feel like discussing such matters, especially out in the open like we are. Still, I’m glad that you came here instead of catching me in the Synyi Tsytadel. As you know that place gets rather…boring. That and this place has a grand charm. It’s the perfect setting for such a beginning, don’t you think? The history of this place alone, it’s so nostalgic” Maria smiled at the Marshal. Today was a grand day for her the beginning of a beautiful era and the start of a future peace, at least in her mind.

“I understand, though I’m sorry to say that I’m afraid I don’t really know the history of the pillars, it wasn’t covered in my learning. You will have to enlighten me.” Etin crossed his arms behind my back prepared to be berated or belittled. Such a monument while well-known wasn’t relevant according to Etin's history teachers, the days of Petrov were Rusich-centric. It instilled a great duty toward one's fellow man and motherland, but not much else. Maria’s education was far more comprehensive, having been to a better school from privilege and having been under Vondierstier’s open education reform.

“That would be the case, wouldn’t it? Fear not, Etin, I shall elaborate and it will have a profound influence on you, or it should. We must first thank our Talerian brothers, because of them we know the history of these pillars and that fact that they still stand should also be attributed to them. Thousands of years ago, a great people ruled over all of Tetrakon and from them we draw its name, Tetrites. Many still speculate on the existence of such a people claiming them myth, but the evidence here and kept by the Talerians is more than enough. You see the Tetrites simply disappeared from the record, from the region, poof. I believe that people finally realized that there was no longer a high king, and became who they used to be, Ougs, Ahiska, Talerian etc etc. Though, that is getting beyond our lesson. The Talerians are amongst the oldest of the pure people and thankfully they maintain a great record. The oldest recorded date is 8000BC, and that date starts here. Before they were just pillars, this was a temple, the temple of Arcturus. Arcturus was considered by his people to be a god at most, and a demi-god in the least. According to the Talerian records, it was on this site called Najaren by the Talerians or Nazoraios by the Tetrites that Arcturus Cyneas Crasus conquered his last foe and established the first empire. To commemorate the victory the tetrites built this temple, as a symbol of the power of Arcturus. Numerous temples dot the four continents each celebrating victory, but ours is the birth of an empire.” Maria turned to look at Etin, “Do you understand?”

“We begin our victorious campaign against the Prut after this meeting?” Etin’s hands still placed behind his back and a puzzled look crossed his face.

“No, Etin. You are thinking too small. We begin our own empire, here and now.” Gesturing all around with her hands spinning and turning her back to etin.

“What? An empire? Ma’am with all due respect, I don’t understand this, are you feeling ok?”

“Imagine a world where everyman is at peace and where this peace is secured. You leave in a nation that can guarantee this ideal and are lucky because of it. If everyone had the opportunity to be who they are without worry, wouldn’t the world be better? The Tetrites ruled for thousands of years, and under them this was the case, they lived in peace as themselves and as something greater. This all ended when the people realized this order was gone and the world degenerated. We have the opportunity to re-establish this ideal for hundreds of millions, billions of people across Aschenkeilern. When the rest of the region sees the grand scheme they will join, and the world will be at peace. Imagine all the people, proudly believing in this cause and ready to protect it. We have that now, we can begin anew.”

Etin stood silent. Maria turned to face him, to lecture him.

“Marshal, such a plan is already underway. I have been in talks with the President of Kanslavia, and they are prepared to merge with our state. We will take Veleslavia and spread east toward all the way to Garimidia. We shall then spread south. Imagine it! A United Aschenkeilern!” Maria made a grand gesture toward the sky, her arms open toward the sun, and brought them to her sides exhaling with an audible sigh.

“Ma’am that is inconceivable! Why challenge what peace we have? We free the Veleslavs and peace will return after negotiations and diplomatic recourse. What you are suggesting sounds like…”

“An invasion? No its pacification, a liberation. We are not conquers, we shall free the world. Are you with me or not Etin? Will you be this era’s Arcturus?”

“I…” Etin recoiled into thought, ‘What she was asking me to do was unthinkable. My leading of millions of men to death so that she can entertain her dream, no this is madness. On the other hand, what if I could? If anyone could accomplish this task, it could be us. We…could’.

“Etin, a man is only remembered by what he accomplished and only if that accomplishment makes a change. “

“My orders are to protect the people of this nation not to send them to their deaths on such a ridiculous endeavor. To even ask me such a thing is…” he replied

“Their sacrifice will be for the greater good.”

“When is it when one death is one too many for you? Aren’t you upset at the squandering of life that will take place within the week?”

“Etin, in our work all deaths are one too many. However, in this world a man will be made to die for a cause in one way or another. You think the world is good, and it is. Only not good enough, it could be so much more. The world has grown complacent in its filth; we have the ability to fix that, now!”

“By committing millions to death?”

“If I were a soldier Etin, I’d rather die today knowing I stopped another from suffering my fate, than to continue this endless procession, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t want to die at all.”

“We all must die, so why should it be in vain?”

Etin’s anger was rising, Maria was not going to see logic, at least not his, “Your cause is vain!”

Maria stomped her foot to the ground and banged her hand against the pillar, “Enough, Marshal. Give me your answer! You are either with me or you are against me? Where do you stand?”

Etin looked around, hung his head in shame and then lifted it, looking toward Maria, “I stand with you my Chancellor.”

by **Neo Prutenia** » Fri Feb 24, 2012 6:08 pm

II. – Pogrom

_

Veleslawien ohne Pruten!

Veleslavia without Prutons - the message the Protysoyuzik are
chanting during their rallies.

Prutische Allgemeine
Author: Mariane Ardenne

Peaceful rally in Lyssychansk turns into bloodbath!

Yesterday morning a planned rally of Protysoyuzik-alligned citizens gathered in the streets of Lyssychansk, protesting the official adoption of Veleslavia into the Prut Meritocracy. While the majority of Veleslavs eagerly jumped into the opportunity and embraced Prutenizm without hesitation, a distinctive minority under nominal leadership of Viktor Voroshilov still disputes the validity of the referendum and demands another plebiscite, or even the nullification of the so-called “annexation” all together. Referred to as a misguided, angry and vocal minority, the protesters won’t give in.

It is no coincidence that Lyssychansk was chosen as the rallying point, for it was in this idle eastern town that Voroshilov was arrested a few months ago and his movement dissolved. Now the Protysoyuziks have returned and are determined to have their voice been heard by the Prut Meritocracy – thousands of people have gathered in the streets and blocked traffic. In other eastern cities the same pattern has been observed. Authorities wonder how the sudden increase in Protysoyuzik activity came to be; the coordination and organization of the events seems a bit to plausible without the use of any media of mass communication, while protest leaders claim the word was spread mouth to mouth and the old fashioned way, over the telephone.

After several hours of relatively peaceful standing around and waving flags, it came to several incidents between the protesters and local law enforcement. Allegedly, several policemen first abused the protesters verbally, then proceeded to attack them physically and tried to push them out of the streets. It came to several clashes, after which in Lyssychansk members of the police opened fire at the crowd. Similar events transpired in Tulchyn and Demydivka. In all three cases it ended in further violence and chaos. Several people were murdered during the riot, but order was re-established in the evening. The hospitals in the cities are now crowded with the wounded.

The policemen which opened fire were all later identified by their colleagues and will face serious repercussions. In the Lyssychank and Tulchyn incidents, the first shot was fired by Prutonic members of the force, while the person who started the Demydivka riot is Slavic, but a known supporter of the Union with Neo Prutenia. Konrad W. L., the person allegedly responsible for the worst incident, the one in Lyssychansk claims that he is wrongly accused by his colleagues who want to put the blame on his due to the tensions – he produced several witnesses who confirmed he was in a different location and couldn’t have possibly opened fire. On the other hand, many of his colleagues accuse him of blackmailing civilians to confirm his story and that the colleagues who claim he’s innocent are trying to cover for him. Wilhelm S. B. the other Prutonic native who is accused of having opened fire into the mass in Tulchin has a similar story – two of his colleagues claim he didn’t fire at all while several others as well as eyewitnesses in the crowd claim he had opened fire.

No hard evidence exists in either case, as no one managed to take a picture during the incidents and the weapons of the two officers and the ballistic reports which could have shown if the pistols had been used have conveniently disappeared. Dmytro H. admitted he shot an attacker in self-defence, when a young man charged at him with a combat knife and viciously slashed his forearm, after the policeman apprehended his older brother for throwing a homemade flare at the members of the police. Dmytro is currently hospitalized and in a stable condition. The young man, identified as Yuri K. (19) a local from Demydivka died from the wound and was the only fatal casualty in the Demydivka incident.

The entire issue has grown into an out of proportion controversy, as wild accusations are flying around between various factions. Later that evening several Prutonic neighbourhoods had been raided, but the police chased off any rioters and malcontents and established order. Several cities in eastern Veleslavia have been put under strict curfew while the investigation is going on. Protysoyuzik leaders demand that the policemen who fired are brought before court and state that the current “Prutonic dictatorship” is protecting its own while allowing freedom-loving Veleslavs to get murdered by their cronies in the streets. Local politicians and public figures had mixed reactions, several condemning the whole affair, while others used the riots as a publicity stunt by picking sides, some even going as far as saying that the Protysoyuziks had it coming.

Königsstein remains eerily silent over the whole issue, with no member of the government or official having said anything so far in public. Joachim Isador Kordson, the Kommandant of the Chryse battlegroup has expressed his condolences to the affected families and vowed that he will uncover who is responsible and bring him to justice. To that end, Chryse will increase its efforts in the area to prevent such events and an escalation of the situation.

“Reading the papers again, Isador?”

Benjamin, Ben for short, always jocose, always positive, always enthusiastic, never calls me by my rank, even when the men are around. In the last several hours his big, dumb grin was one of the few things keeping me in good mood. My old Drill Feldwebel would boldly claim it has to do with a Prut soldier’s iron discipline and unshakable dedication, but she’d also claim that waging asymmetric warfare is a piece of cake, so anything coming out of her mouth should be taken with a grain of salt. That the old guard was wise enough to not claim to have a ready solution for this problem eased my mind. That was the second thing keeping my mood socially acceptable. Dumb grin reassuring me, smart superiors looking for a solution, though I had my own role to play as well.

Chryse has been on the move for hours now. I didn’t expect the Protysoyuziks to act so quickly and organized. If my suspicions turn out to be true, we’ll be in for a long ride. First the sudden increase in their financial capabilities; someone is obviously funding them, but who? The Meritocracy has no external enemies, and internally no one profits from a destabilized Veleslavia. It makes no sense, and I don’t like that. Someone is playing foul and I will find out who that person is. There’s also the issue of their organization. Obviously someone is pulling the strings from behind the scenes, this whole mess was obviously carefully planned. And it’s the Protysoyuziks, so Voroshilov can’t be far away. Question is, has Voroshilov secured some backers in the realm, or is someone using him and his friends for their own needs?

“Isador, I’m talking to you.”

“Sorry Ben, Ardenne’s article is making me anxious. Have our man managed to secure her?”

“Yes, she was conveniently heading to Lyssychansk as well, so we picked her up along the way.”

“First good news this day.”

We both turned our heads to right simultaneously, towards the sound of rotors working. I’d recognise one of my own Schraubers even in a storm, the sound of the blades gracefully cutting through air, the engine methodically vibrating, the unmistakable melody of Prut craftsmanship. I didn’t have to tell the driver to stop the lorry, nor did I have to contact the pilot of the helicopter. Ben had already placed a new kettle on the stove and he’s currently searching through the tea selection. I allowed myself a moment of relaxation before opening my eyes again as soon as the door swung open.

The light from the outside dazed me for a second and just now I noticed how dark and cool it was in my command post. Weird, I even had my coat on, despite Veleslavia being quite pleasant this time of the year, though it was somewhat colder than Aschenkeilern Neo Prutenia. Two guys came in, both in short-sleeved shirts, natives used to the local climate. One of them had the typical traits of a Pruton – tall, fair skinned, amber eyes, athletic – but then I noticed the rather large and quite fresh scar on his forearm. The other guy was middle-aged, bald and somewhat out of shape, but his posture, stiff as a broomstick, and attitude, formal and dignified, identified him as one of my own. Funny how my kind easily abandons the usual regimen and body culture of home when it lives in a foreign environment for a longer period, but never forgets the proper salute. The younger one imitated it poorly, but showed enough effort and courtesy that I didn’t mind.

“Herr Biermann, Herr Hubarenko, I’m glad you responded so quickly to my call. I know the current situation you’re entangled in and I’m here to help you. I’m especially thankful to you, Herr Hubarenko that you came despite your wound. If you haven’t seen me in the news this morning, I’m Kommandant Joachim Isador Kordson, commanding officer of the Chryse battlegroup.”

“Please, if I can help in any way, I’ll gladly tough out this scratch.”

“Likewise, Herr Kommandant, I’m at your disposal.”

“Good to hear, good to hear.” I turn to Ben. “Oberst, any luck with the tea yet? Can we offer some refreshment to our guests here?”

“Just a second, I’m working on it.”

“While we’re waiting for the tea, I’ll explain the issue. Just to make sure you know, I’ve already read the reports and I believe you. Several of my men were present there as well and basically confirmed your stories. The only issue might be Herr Lutz, your colleague from Lyssychansk, since none of my men witnessed it. Then again, that might exactly mean that he couldn’t have done it. Due to the nature of our work we cannot clear your names, not right away. It is my firm belief that a group of well-organized and well-funded conspirators and malcontents aims to destabilize the area for personal gain and that the various agencies you’re working for have been infiltrated by them. A purge is imminent, but under the current conditions might provoke the masses and give rise to uncalled-for tensions. It’s a delicate matter and it requires Fingerspitzengefühl.”

Ben cheerily brings the tea, putting a cup in front of each of us. He went with a simple hibiscus, spicing it up with local honey. As Ben joins our little circle, I start the ceremony, to the confusion of our Veleslav guest. Luckily he either heard of our habit or was just well-mannered, since he didn’t interrupt me. Ben and Biermann followed my example and prepared their beverages according to their tastes, with Ben stuffing it with sugar and Biermann just slowly mixing it. After a minute I put down the spoon and take a sip with all of them joining. We enjoy the serenity of the moment for some time, before I continue.

“I’ll show you several dozen pictures of various persons. I need you to identify as many of them as possible. All of them are known members of the Protysoyuzik and I need to know how many of them and which ones where among the protesters.”

I stand up, go the table and bring back my laptop and notebook with pencil. Turning on the device, I sit next to Biermann and Hubarenko and prepare to write down every name matching a face they identify.

“Start, please.”

Hubarenko, the apparently more impatient of the two, goes first. He easily picks out nearly a dozen of them, identifying one of them as the now dead attacker who made that nasty wound on his arm and another as his older brother. The rest of them he can accurately recall to have been among the protesters and certainly among the rioters. I expand the search to the family members and known friends of the people he identified and Hubarenko finds several matches there as well, but he reassures me that those persons were not among the rioters. Biermann’s turn. He’s more slow, but methodical, carefully examining every face and even borrowing a piece of paper from me to make notes for himself. After ten minutes, he gives me a complete list of everyone he saw, the description of their clothing, behaviour and even manages to identify a few others from the friends and relatives list as well. All in all the two of them combined identified around 20 Protysoyuzik and twice as many supporters. Had Lutz been among the policemen on duty in that particular part of Lyssychansk where the riot happened, he might have been able to find more of them for us, but these two now have confirmed my suspicions.

I had already sent two teams to look up the Lyssychansk and Tulchyn incidents and find out if the policemen who accused the two Prutons are in league with the Protysoyuzik and I’m expecting results soon. Slowly this puzzle is starting to make sense. I might not be able to see to greater picture, but I can anticipate their next moves now. On that account, these two coppers will come in handy.

“Herr Biermann, Herr Hubarenko, again, I thank you for your cooperation. The helicopter will drop you off at your homes soon. However, before you go I have to draft you into the Abwehr. The state will need your services in the next few weeks to combat this threat. In that regard, you possess the optimal traits to be Abwehr operatives in the Demydivka and Tulchyn area – you shall continue to operate as normal members of the police force, but you will stay in touch with us. Herr Biermann, I suppose you know the procedure?”

“Yes, Herr Kommandant.”

“Is this even legal? We’re police. You cannot draft us into the Military!”

“The Abwehr is not a part of the military; it’s an inter-governmental agency employing individuals from all sectors, both public and private. As a certified Abwehr Operative, I can draft whomever I want, as members of a government agency, you cannot refuse, Herr Hubarenko. While I understand your protest here, nothing is out of the ordinary.”

“I see… “

I hand him my Operative ID and certificate, to reassure him. Then I take two envelopes, one for each of them and hand it to them.

“These are your documents, new phones and IDs. In there you will find further instructions on how to proceed and behave. Herr Biermann, since you’re familiar with the procedure, would you do me the favour and brief Herr Hubarenko on his new role?”

“Of course, Herr Kommandant.”

“Splendid. Gentlemen, that would be it for now. Read through the instructions on your way home, you will most likely be contacted today and given further instructions. I again thank you very much for the valuable information you’ve provided us with. With further help, we shall easily root out the Protysoyuzik agents within the police force and purge them from our system. We shall turn the tables on their foul game and defeat them – your cooperation will be essential here. Understood?”

“Yes, Herr Kommandant!” : responded both in unison.

“Isador, phone.”

“Important?”

“Depends. It’s Ardenne.”

I utter a quick “Dismissed” to the two policemen and send them off, then I almost jump over Ben to get the phone.

“Hallo? Ardenne, c’est toi?”

She didn’t answer in her usual seductive way, which was slightly disturbing for me. Her voice was serious, but luckily she didn’t sound like she was in danger or under any pressure or coercion. I noticed a certain worried undertone in her voice as well.

“Cher ami, yes, it’s me. I’m calling from Lyssychansk. Turn on the telly now, Kanal Jedan.”

I gestured to Ben to hand me the remote and complied. She didn’t have to say anything else. The image of an angry Voroshilov was all over the screen, apparently he was giving a speech in front of a crowd in Lyssychansk. I knew that park and that statue, it was about 50 m away from the main police station, the place where I assumed Ardenne was calling me from.

…long will we keep our eyes closed? They treated us, the proud sons and daughters of Veleslavia with pity and contempt when we rose those many weeks ago, when they crushed our movement. They didn’t then possess the strength and resolve to challenge us properly, they knew they couldn’t defeat us, hence they used guile and trickery to subdue our freedom movement. Branded us as criminals, traitors who don’t respect the people’s wishes and their right to express their true allegiance. ALL LIES!

I must apologize to you, my brothers, my sisters, mother and father; I must apologize for not having taken a stand there. It was I who should have challenged them there directly and forced them to reveal their true colours then and there. But I was weak, weak because of my love for my kind, my concern for you, for your safety. I never wished to spill the blood of the innocents, your blood, the blood of my kindred, but I should have. I should have drawn my sword and pointed it at our enemies, I should have cut off the snakes head then and there. Would blood have been spilled? Yes! Would it have been spilled in vain? NO!

No, it wouldn’t have. But yesterday and today it was spilled in vain. It is my deepest regret that these foul murders could have been prevented. Instead of so many victims from yesterday, they would have been martyrs to our cause, our most noble cause, a free Veleslavia. But they died in vain, pointless, mean and petty deaths at the hands of our oppressors. Not even our oppressors, but their cronies and henchmen. They thought the Protysoyuziks broken, defeated and gone, but as soon as they’ve seen our supporters, our allies and our might they panicked. They panicked because they realized their masters from Königsstein lied to them, for we were never broken, we were not defeated and most certainly we never left our beloved land. The Pruton lapdogs shoot their own kind. Those of them who infiltrated our society have finally shown their true colours as well.

For what is the Pruton but a wolf posing as a sheep? Murderers waiting for the first opportunity to draw blood. Lurking in the shadows, spying on us, draining our life force, pitting us against each other. We have allowed the poisonous viper to dine at out table for too long. They tried to scare us, they failed. I say we go to that so-called house of law and demand justice to be seen! I say we demand they deliver us that murderer who shot peaceful protesters without provocation, that cruel barbarian who killed your children, your brother, your sister, your son, your daughter.

We, the Protysoyuziks have returned in your time of greatest need. We will lead you to freedom. Now you see who is the traitor and who is on your side, now you realize who has your own best interests at heart. Brothers, sisters, Veleslavs of Lyssychansk, today we make a stand, today we shall demand back our rights, our laws, our sovereignty so cunningly confiscated from us by those snake charmers armed with venomous smiles. Onward, onward to demand justice! Do not fear, for blood has already been spilled, our blood. No more! Today we demand theirs! Today we will march onward without regret, without remorse and without concern for our blood, meeting our foe with a blade between our teeth and an infinite scorn in our hearts. Now is the time we show them that we ARE willing to spill blood and bleed for our rights.”

“Mariane, get out of Lyssychansk now.”

by **Urarail** » Fri Feb 24, 2012 7:32 pm

"Today we will march onward without regret, without remorse and without concern for our blood, meeting our foe with a blade between our teeth and an infinite scorn in our hearts. Now is the time we show them that we ARE willing to spill blood and bleed for our rights.”

--CLICK--

With an unseen press of a button, the large screen, playing the Veleslav declaration of war on any Prut or Prutenizer they could get their hands on, flashed to black, pitching the room into darkness. Unbiden, a soldier clad in the black uniform of the Imperial Guard special division strode into the room, and pulled thick wool curtains back from the high-running slit-like windows. Morning light pierced into the room like bolts of radiance illuminating a cave. Three figures were seated at a table meant for nine.

The eldest spoke first. "Orlin, what's CMIS' assessment?"

Without missing a beat, a middle-aged man in a luxuriously expensive 3-piece suit began disgorging information like a broken fire hydrant. "Probability of foreign interference in Veleslavia is over 98%. CMIS concludes the most likely suspect is the Ulthrannic Empire. Ulthrannic governmental announcements and local press have increased publishing or usage of patriotic or inflammatory material and language by 7% over the past 3 months. Ulthrannic military recruitment is up by 0.03% compared to the past 3 months. Given their history and obvious presentation of growing Prutonic power in Aschenkeilern, it is CMIS' belief this is an attempt to destabilize the Meritocracy as a check against runaway Prut growth."

The elder one looked to a map hanging on the far wall. "And what is CMIS opinion of Rusichland?"

Again the breathless reply without pause. "CMIS considered Rusich involvement on account of Rusich political gospel of 'Slavic brotherhood' and current socioeconomic resurgence. We believe their Chancellor to be an ideologue but not unstable. The current Rusich ranking commander, Etin, had been noted for caution in the past. We do not believe he would support military action against the Meritocracy, of clandestine or open nature."

The elder turned to the young woman at the table. "Kathrinya, what's our current state of military readiness, in case this situation goes berserk?"

A soft soprano voice stood in contrast to the harsher, grating altos of the men. "All branches are only 85% complete with modernization and reorganizational changes. Frankly, Sir Premier, the Warhost stands unable to muster its full might for at least another 8 months. I must strongly recommend against any military action, especially with so little information available." Here, some doubt entered her lilac voice. "Of course, I suppose I could consult with the other Lord Generals if"

The eldest held up a hand. "Quite unnecessary, I find your assessment to be faultless, Lord Admiral Garner."

She smiled at that, as if relieved she'd pleased the man.

"We will watch for now. It is a continent away, and with news of the Sazaurum Queen marrying the Azuran, CMIS assures me Ascherach might soon be having troubles of its own. Your men always have such good news for us, Orlin."

The man in the suit shrugged. "Prophets are often least loved in their native land."

"Oh? Religious imagery is it now? Fine then, divine for myself and the Admiral a prophecy my friend."

Despite the jesting reply of Premier Blackshears, Orlin Malthus remained dour. "I only know nothing good is in store."

The Bitter War (ATTN: Tetrakon, Closed)

The Bitter War (ATTN: Tetrakon, Closed)

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