The TurtleShroom Labor Thread [OPEN TO ALL]

[TURTLESHROOM II]

TURTLESHROOM LABOR THREAD NAVIGATION:

• PART ONE: You're looking at it.
• PART TWO, COUP D'ETAT: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic ... 4&t=361265
• OOC THREAD: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic ... p=27140627
• PART THREE: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic ... 4&t=363999
• PART FOUR: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic ... 4&t=364605
• PART FIVE: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=417442
  

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NATIONSTATES
THE TURTLESHROOMER LABOR THREAD

The economy was slumping as engagement with TurtleShroomer tankers and cargo ships exiting Dire Dire Docks were intercepted near Paradoxian waters by forces like Allanea and Urmanian. Throughout TurtleShroom, company towns were facing leaner times, as uranium and petroleum booms in other nations in the Region forced competition and lower prices for TurtleShroomer goods. Deprived of the gravy train yielded by oil and mining, exports shifted to TurtleShroom's famed agricultural goods, such as cotton, spices, tea, coffee, vegetables, oats, and natural rubber.

Well, that was the plan, anyway. The sky didn’t really like this idea. This was the Wet Season in TurtleShroom, and the country was facing record monsoons. With a few solitary days of interruption, rain had pummeled TurtleShroom since the start of February. Cabin fever was setting in and farmers watched with teary eyes as their livelihood simply washed away. Sorrow and resentment entered into the hearts of the rich and the poor alike. Businesses had to furlough their employees when no one came in because of the rain. Everything that could have gone wrong, did.

Company towns couldn’t afford to make their tenants work and have their exports sit clogged at the train station. All across TurtleShroom, residents were informed that the company store would have to either reduce or halt the sale of coveted luxuries like coffee or multimedia equipment such as radioes, batteries, and portable video games. Even the computers in the recreation centers had to be rationed.

Tenants in company towns, the unquestioned bedrock of all of TurtleShroom's heavy industry, were without entertainment and without purpose for weeks on end. With nothing to do, these employees, desperate for something to stave the boredom, got their umbrellas and headed to the big cities to find something to do. Compensation checks in tow, these creatures provided an influx to city tourism, but not in the way it was expected. The cities were hit hard by the economy as well, and restless company town employees found little to do there, as well.

That’s when the nightmare scenario began. The rain was not the only storm torrent in TurtleShroom. A much bigger storm, a perfect storm, was imminent.

When TurtleShroomers get really bored and have no immediate entertainment, they tend to coalesce together and talk politics, economy, religion, and society. Even the most uneducated TurtleShroomers had opinions and loved to share them.

This was a problem, though, because these normally simple folk were also in big cities. Any nation knows that cities are hives of anti-status quo tomfoolery and left wing ignorance, no matter how conservative or even reactionary the populace is.
As they attended free civic centers and free debate halls, fiery leftists found a new audience, bored and bitter, to spread their propaganda.
This was especially the case in and around the City of Shroomville. The unincorporated outskirts of the city, and a vast supermajority of its employees, were truck system tenants. Shroomville was one of the hardest hit in the economic downturn, and there was no short of radicalism from famous agitators, particularly Ashton Fish*.

-and it was there, that the nightmare began.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

“Bore-is Duum?”

A black haired, white skinned human raised his head at the voice that called his name. Judging by his facial structure and his slanted eyes, one of his parents had to be Asian, but that passion in his icy glare had no origin from TurtleShroom. This spark was greatly feared in most countries with ties to Russia, and a spark never seen in a TS worker. It was the spark of Revolution.

“Ahv received word from King Outtacountry on yer capital punishment.”

{Switch to Duum’s point of view. First person.}

Day seven. I still rot in this prison. They had caught me quickly and exercised no restraint. I was beaten and manhandled. I can’t feel my left hand, and I don’t know if I can even use my nose. They claimed their God is one of mercy.

I guess I should give a little information on how I got here, and who I am.
I am Boris Duum, council member of the Jacobins and friend of the working creature. I stand for all turtles, mushrooms, and men who seek increases in their compensation and freedom from the company store. I am an enemy to the wealthy, and I am punished accordingly.

For simply wanting more in my life, I had inadvertently caused a riot. My brothers in the working class, species did not matter, had joined me in a righteous struggle for an immediate dissolution of the local truck system and a full conversion to salaried employees. No, I taught them to say, they would not just “get another job that pays a salary”! That would simply lead a new herd of sheep to the cage of the truck system! I demanded abolition and none else!

-and that’s when the PMCs brought out the machine guns. Sometimes, I forget that AK-74s and 47s come in an automated variety. Our shotguns, pistols, revolvers, and tasers were practically as useful as Dipper’s Journal in the hands of the ignorant.

That cost me my left eye, three of my fingers, my home, and the lives seventy two friends and seven company store’s enforcement pigs. We scattered and hid in any building we could find. I guess someone broke a wire or spilled something. I don’t know how, but that’s when the fire started. I still remember it, so vividly. There was fire everywhere. That town doesn’t exist anymore.

I did this, and now I sit in a small cell, arms and legs held in long chains and shackles. They expected to break me before a death sentence was handed down. I refused.
Yet, though I feel much sorrow for all the families who lost their loved ones, I do not regret my stand. Even now, I refuse to recant.

I had some hope that the voice that called my name was giving me good news from the rich man’s pawns in Jonesboro. I listened intently.

“Your penalty has been altered by King Maven Outtacountry himself.”

I held my breath.

“You…” he paused, as if he was having trouble saying this.

“Boris, you’re gone be burned at the stake.”

For what seemed like ages, I sat in silence. The blood was gone from my face and my heart was racing. My hands shook and I held back tears. Nothing we discussed or trained for in the Jacobins could have prepared me for this. The voice, a guard in the prison, and several other lackeys undid my chains from the wall and held them tightly. A submachine gun was pointed at my back and I was made to walk to the prison’s death chamber. My request for an appeal was denied, and every request thereafter. The Supreme Court of TurtleShroom had heard my demand for a real trial, and summarily shot it down.
TurtleShroom usually gives a fortnight up to two months to search for any reasonable doubt for a capital crime. Not for me.

The worst thing about this is who else has received stake burning in TurtleShroomer history. The punishment hasn’t been used for almost a hundred fifty years. The last man to be burnt at the stake was a serial rapist who went after nuns, the wives of pastors, and widows, and even the pastors themselves. Even the non-humans were violated. It was 1890 AD.
Apparently, my simple demands for better treatment of the working TurtleShroomer equates to raping servants of the Church. Yeah, that totally makes sense.
Oh, and everyone in TurtleShroom remembers Kazar Valos, the “Kapitalist Bomber”. He destroyed an entire skyscraper hosting a choir and TurtleShroom's largest nonprofit insurer that offered discounts to orphans, widows and the poor.
So yeah, I guess I am worse than a man who targets and blows up children and philanthropists. Seems legit.

I was offered a last meal during final hours in NationStates. Thinking symbolically of revolutions elsewhere, I asked for borscht, bread, and sweet tea. I was hungry and ate it all. I refused a visit from a minister. Any God whose followers killed people for standing up for the workers won’t be hearing me out.

The prison I was placed in is the oldest official maximum-security prison in TurtleShroom and the only one entirely run and funded by the state. If I recall, it was built in 1910 AD. I stood in the death chamber, surrounded by instruments of execution. It was an octagonal room made of stone, with candles on the ceiling and a single glass window with a curtain. There were guillotines, gallows, a lethal injection table, and an electric chair. That, however, wasn’t where I was going.

There was a metal door in the back of the room. I was led inside and shown a second glass window with a drawn curtain. The room was made of white stone, sealed and covered in flame retardant paint. I’d guess it was fifteen by fifteen feet. I counted six fire extinguishers in the hands of six firemen. All six of them were human.

In the center of the room was a pole. The stake. My fate. I was led to the pole and my chains were wrapped around it. Ropes were added until I was bound from the neck down. I was given a blindfold.

A mushroom came forward, but I could not see his face. His cap was draped in a red hood and his stem was covered in white robes. He turned from me and I saw the red plus on his back. This was the “death doctor”. His job was to pronounce me dead- I prefer the term “murdered” –and to take any medical necessities before the job is done.

I saw him wheel a machine next to me. I recognized it as an anesthesia pump.

The three executioners came forward. All of were turtles. I could not determine their species or gender by the black hoods they wore. Each one of them had a can of gas. They poured it on me and the smell nearly made me dizzy.

Two of the executioners exited the chamber and the first one stayed. He spoke loudly and calmly.

“Boris Johnson Duum, you have been sentenced to death for the following crimes: one count of inciting a riot, one count of attempting to overthrow a company town, seventy two counts of manslaughter, seven counts of murder in the first degree, three counts of arson, one count of arson inducing a fatality, six counts of property destruction, one count of trespassing, two counts of acting as an agent-provocateur, one account of professing allegiance to an illegal cabal, one count of conspiracy to strike, one account of attempted organization of a strike, one count of conspiracy to organize a workers’ slowdown, one count of conspiracy to organize a sick-in, sit-in, or other manner of disobedience, one count of incitement of violence, one count of labor union organization, one account of conspiracy to organize a labor union, one count of contesting the Board of Labor Purity, one count of organizing illegal demonstrations on private land, one count of leading a rebellion, six counts of violating a restraining order, and seven counts of illegal possession of firearms by a convicted felon, one count of property damage or assault on a church, seventy nine counts of disorderly conduct, seventy nine counts of disturbing the peace, and one count of resisting arrest.”

The executioner took a deep breath after that.

“Do you have any last words to declare?”

I looked the hooded reptile in the eyes.

“I’d do it again.”
“Very well. Boris Duum, may God have mercy on your soul.”

The final executioner left the room. The curtain was drawn open and I saw at least a hundred creatures in the observation room. All of my comrades in my Jacobin chapter saluted me, while the families of all those who died bore holes in my mind with their stares of hate and contempt. The three executioners stood by three levers.

The doctor approached me and pricked an IV tube into my neck. I heard the whir of the mach…. everything is getting………….. sleep………….. I regret… noth…. Jacobins will wi………………………………………
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……..

{End Boris’ point of view.}


Boris had been sedated. The room was cleared out and the firemen equipped their flame-retardant equipment and gas masks. The three switches were thrown. There was a loud roar of machinery in the ceiling and suddenly, from nowhere, a flame shot out of the ceiling and hit Boris’s hair.

The flames spread over Boris’ body and the flesh began dropping off him. His clothes disintegrated and his skull was revealed as his face melted off. Things not to be discussed covered the floor. The fire consumed Boris in minutes, and for about thirty minutes, his body burned like a candle. The audience sat in silence, disturbed and staring at the flaming corpse.

At last, Boris’ ligaments, tendons and muscles came undone and his bones clattered against the floor. Those two began converting to ashes. The firemen were ordered to put out the conflagration that had once been the rebel leader.

It was all over. The curtain was closed. Boris Duum was no more.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

Word of Boris’ brutal death was front page news the next day. The picture of what was left of his skull was the title image. Many were shocked at the use of such a primitive punishment.

Ashton Fish took Boris’ cause to heart. For days on end, and despite the rain, he preached the need for further resistance no matter the cost. He urged peaceful defiance and violent struggle to engage only on those who fired first.

That message fell upon fertile, ignorant ground.

In less than three days after Boris’ death, TurtleShroom began to experience something it had not seen in its entire history.

This was a labor riot.

[Enatai]

The text came early in the morning, a near-silent rumble on the Advisor of Foreign Relations' phone. Groggily, he got up, slipping on his glasses, grumbling a bit to himself at having such a loud phone. Still, he never got texts like this unless the business was important. He let his husband sleep soundly as he donned his robe and went out into the kitchen to make some coffee. When he finally got around to looking the text over, his sleepy look vanished at once. These things didn't happen every day! The text, sent from one of his interns, said only "Labor riot in TurtleShroom confirmed, your presence required ASAP."

This was by no means usual. TurtleShroom, the proverbial whipping boy of every nation with even a halfway decent military in the region--and, so most Enataians reasoned, rightly so, given their civil rights record--was actually having a labor strike without any foreign agents, without any interference by anyone? Perhaps reform was closer than previously imagined. In a hurry, he got dressed, his partner rolling a bit in his sleep. "Mmh, it's three in the morning..." he murmured. "It's three in the morning and you won't believe what's going on. I don't know if it's good news or bad news, but cross your fingers and hope that whatever's going on keeps up," he says, frantically buckling his belt, getting as presentable as possible.

An hour later and there he was at his desk, a newspaper from TurtleShroom tossed onto his desk by a frantic and ragged-looking intern who had almost certainly been up all night. "Do we have a press release ready for this yet?" he asked, to which the intern just gave an exasperated groan, as if he was about to topple over at any moment. "Alright, alright, go get some coffee and relax, you've done well. No need to panic." The intern nodded and scrambled away haphazardly, and with a slight chuckle, the advisor began to read. When he wasn't groaning at the writing style, he managed to glean some halfway-decent information from this, and began to scribble to himself, chewing on his pen cap. He smiled. This is how revolutions begin; oh, sure, the birth pains of a new country may be unpleasant at first, but something beautiful may come of this yet.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

TurtleShroom was actually having a labor strike without any foreign agents, without any interference by anyone?

{OOC: Oh, there's massive amounts of foreign agents provacatuer. All of TurtleShroom's enemies have a vested interest in breaking TurtleShroom's thunderous economy. Every single one of them would work to keep this riot sustained far after it would on its own.}

[Enatai]

TurtleShroom was actually having a labor strike without any foreign agents, without any interference by anyone?

{OOC: Oh, there's massive amounts of foreign agents provacatuer. All of TurtleShroom's enemies have a vested interest in breaking TurtleShroom's thunderous economy. Every single one of them would work to keep this riot sustained far after it would on its own.}

(OOC: Certainly, but we don't know that. For once, we're not helping to disrupt things there, although if need be, that could change)

[New Edom]

The New Edomite Embassy

Count Nabal, a short rather bulging eyed man with unruly hair, often wearing baggy comfortable suits, was ambassador, for his sins. literally. His daughter Lavinia, a hoyden, an adulteress who had done jail time, had been brought with him; his wife preferred to be at home.

He was about to get her to leave his study, she standing, lowering her skirt and discreetly rubbing a smarting backside from a regular switching he now reluctantly gave her to remind her of her sins, her head covered in a kerchief from where she had been shaved at Stonehaven, when he received a message.

In response to the ridiculously brutal executions, there was now rioting. Apparently at home and here. No escape.

He wearily ordered the embassy guards to secure all staff and all entrances and exits, and sent a message to the Foreign Ministry inquiring if the situation was being contained or not.

"Why are you still here?" he asked Lavinia. "Go to your room and do your reading."

"Yes Papa," she said in a small voice. "I'm just concerned for you."

Oh, she broke his heart. He drew her hand to his and kissed it. "I hate to have to do this disciplinary reminders, but as you know I feel if I had done them when you were younger you would not have strayed. He who spares the rod hates his...child. Go, my dearest, and I will see you at dinner."

If we are not all burned to death, he thought.

[Comrade Commisar]

Eagles Mansion Estate, Litlin, Turtleshroom

"First it was the destruction of our beautiful capital, then it was the declarations of war within the North. Of course, then the rains came and washed away our harvests, with our company possibly being lucky to break even by the end of the quarter. Now, however, now the workers are rioting within the streets! It is absolute madness! Pure madness, I say!"

Sir William Pennington sighed in frustration as he covered his face, the man looking outside the large windows of the estate into one for the rarest scenes of Litlin, a rainstorm. The founder and one of the owners of the infamous Commonwealth South Tea Company in Turtleshroom, Pennington had made quite the amount of coin during the golden years of the business, when the price of luxuries such as tea and coffee were almost guarenteed to bring in a tenfold return for their investment. Marked with gains every quarter, the company was one of the most cherished within the Commonwealth of Asahina, with nearly every influential person investing within the business at some point in time. The company had made Pennington a very wealthy man, renown within nearly every corner of the expansive Commonwealth. Likewise, when the company began falling within its profits following the Bad October incidents, Pennington was noticably more anxious, concerned with the future of the company that now represented him, and wondering what happened to the golden days of the past.

Sitting within the room with Sir Pennington was that of Lady Red, listening to the grievances of the businessman as she quietly drank her tea, the pitter-patter of rain noticably filling the room with a peaceful ambience. Gently placing her tea cup down, the woman looked out of the blurred windows dripping with water, seemingly reminiscent in thought with the rain.

"It was a better time back then, Sir Pennington, nobody could have suspected that it would boil down to... this. There was nothing we could do, and there is still nothing we can do. 'There is no use worrying about spilt milk', as they say." Lady Red sighed, staring at the crutch beside her in reflection, "We just have to learn how to accept these changes as they happen."

"... ... ... I suppose you are correct, Lady Red." Pennington said begrudgingly after a brief silence, turning away from the window to sit with the woman, "These labor riots are a sign of discontent from the workers to the businessmen, the horrid conclusion to decades of abuse underneath the Turtleshroomian economic model, with the recent gruesome execution of Mister Duum serving merely as a catalyst. Of course, with the recent instability of Turtleshroom as a whole, I suspect that those riots may eventually find itself upon our doorstep. You should be relatively safe, Lady Red, considering your very charitable and kind reputation. I, myself, am unlikely to be so fortunate, being a major beneficiary of the Commonwealth South Tea Company, and likewise, a probable target within these recent bouts of disorder."

Lady Red merely averted her eyes. Despite her own perspective upon the matter, Pennington was a keen businessman, quite sensitive to subtle and slight changes that could effect his endeavors. It was entirely within possibility that the riots would spread like wildfire, the much needed spark to an entire sea of petrol, and that they would reach Litlin eventually. Likewise, it was also within possibility that there would be some amount of bloodshed, with both businesses and laborers so drastically opposed to each other, and the nature of the Turtleshroomian citizenry to assume vigilante actions against perceived wrongs. The situation was appearing grimmer and grimmer by the second, with both Lady Red and Sir Pennington growingly aware that the near future was very bleak within Turtleshroom.

"It is absolute madness, my lady, with conflict running rampant throughout the world. I could travel throughout the region, and find myself within no better - if not worse - situations." Sir Pennington sighed, leaning back within his chair, "The question, then, I suppose, is what shall we do now? What shall we do when everywhere one goes is consumed by pure madness and violence?"

"What we always do, Sir Pennington, we pray to ride out the storm." Lady Red softly spoke, "For whatever changes occur, we must learn how to accept them as they happen. It is what we do..."

"... ... ... It is all we can do."

[TURTLESHROOM II]

{OOC: The Seal Creator has been down for years, so I had to make due, and I apologize for that. Also, that symbol in the seal's center has been used since I created my nation. This is the form all interested parties receive. If you are playing in this story, this is what you'd receive if you asked. It is a public domain, standardized form available for faxing, printing, mailing, and personal pickup for any use.}

{OOC: I love writing fictuitious paperwork for my fictuitous nation.}

]

KINGDOM OF THE UNITED TURTLES, MUSHROOMS, AND MEN OF TURTLESHROOM
EXECUTIVE CABINET
MINISTRY OF THE POLICE
DEPARTMENT OF INCARCERATION AND PUNISHMENT

OFFICIAL CERTIFICATION OF DEATH
RELEASED FOR ALL MEDIA OUTLETS AND THE MASSES

OFFICIAL NOTIFICATION OF EXECUTION.

NAME: BORIS JONSON DUUM
SEX/GENDER: MALE
SPECIES: HUMAN (Asian/TurtleShroomer White miscegnate)
RELIGION: ATHEIST
MOST SEVERE CRIME: FIRST DEGREE MURDER (x7)
OTHER CAPITAL CRIMES: ARSON LEADING TO FATALITY (x1), MANSLAUGHTER IN EXCESS OF FIFTEEN SOULS (x72)
OTHER NON-CAPITAL COUNTS, TOTAL: 196
RECIDIVISM? - Y (PREVIOUS CRIME 2011 AD, FELONY, SEE DIP FILES)

☠

AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT ON THE TWENTY SEVENTH FRIDAY DAY OF FEBRUARY, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD TWO THOUSAND FIFTEEN, INMATE #885639666, BORIS JOHNSON DUUM, WAS PUT TO DEATH BY SUSPENDED IMMOLATION.

☠

[SUMMARY]
SUBJECT WAS BOUND TO A WOODEN STAKE AND ADMINISTERED ANESTHEZIA, RENDERING SUBJECT FULLY UNCONCIOUS. TEN MINUTE WAIT TIME OBSERVED. QUICK SCAN FOR CONCIOUSNESS CONDUCTED, SUBJECT UNRESPONSIVE DEEMED UNCONCIOUS.
UNCONCIOUS SUSPECT WAS DOUSED WITH PETROLEUM AND SET AFLAME. CORRECT PROTOCOL OBSERVED: NO OBSERVABLE PAIN NOR RESISTANCE WAS VISIBLE IN SUBJECT. SUBJECT BURNT FOR TWENTY TWO MINUTES THIRTY TWO SECONDS BEFORE FLAME WAS DOUSED. ESTIMATED TIME OF DEATH: 12:17 AM LOCAL TIME. PRONOUNCED DEAD AT 12:32 AM LOCAL TIME.

[OBSERVATIONS]
SUBJECT'S LAST WORDS WERE "I'D DO IT AGAIN".
SUBJECT PROVIDED NO RESISTANCE EN ROUTE TO EXECUTION.
WHEN CONCIOUS, SUBJECT WAS SILENT DURING EXECUTION PROCESS.

[CHRISTIAN THEOLOGICAL OBSERVATION] - {PROVIDED BY PRISON CHAPLAIN: NOT REFLECTING BELIEFS OF TURTLESHROOMER GOVERNMENT OR ANY AGENCY}

PERCEIVED AFTERLIFE: HELL

SUBJECT EXHIBITED NO VISIBLE REPENTENCE NOR GUILT FOR COMMISSION OF CRIMES. SUBJECT REFUSED CHURCH VISITATION. SUBJECT TARGETED AND RAZED A CHAPEL DURING RIOT. SUBJECT WAS ATHEIST IN BELIEF. WITH NO SIGN OF REPENTENCE AND NO REMORSE OR REGRETTING FOR DEEDS DONE, IT IS LOGICAL TO ASSUME THAT SUBJECT FACES ETERNAL DAMNATION.

(THIS OPINION IS NOT BINDING NOR AUTHORITATIVE. ONLY GOD KNOWS THE HEART.)

[FINAL NOTES]
SUBJECT'S REMAINS ENCAPSULATED IN URN AND PLACED FOR PICKUP BY FAMILY OR OTHER RELEVANT PARTY AT PRISON VISITORS' LOBBY, SINCE TAKEN AS OF RELEASE OF CERTIFICATION OF DEATH. FUNERAL REQUEST GRANTED. LOCATION WITHHELD TO PREVENT DISRUPTION.
ESTATE NOT CHALLENGED, HEIRS NOT DISQUALIFIED BY CORRUPTION-OF-BLOOD. NO FURTHER EXAMINATION BY STATE OBSERVED.

CASE CLOSED THIS TWENTY EIGHTH SATURDAY OF MARCH IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD TWO THOSUAND FIFTEEN.

☠

GOD HAVE MERCY ON US ALL.
-MINISTRY OF POLICE, DEPARTMENT OF INCARCERATION AND PUNISHMENT. KINGDOM OF THE UNITED TURTLES, MUSHROOMS, AND MEN OF TURTLESHROOM
-OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE FOR PUBLIC DISCLOSURE

P.S.: KING OUTTACOUNTRY REFUSES ALL PRESS INTERVIEWS UNTIL AN APPOINTED TIME IN WHICH HE OBSERVES A PRESS CONFERENCE.

{OOC: This is a filler. Tomorrow's post will advance the storyline.}

[TURTLESHROOM II]

The topic of Duum's execution was on the minds of every TurtleShroomer, regardless of location, strata or species.

---

"The execution was humane!" a turtle grimaced, looking towards her sister. "He felt nothin'!"

"That don't matter!" she replied, "He was burnt at the stake. BURNT AT THE STAKE! Do ya really think he's as evil as Kazaar Valos to deserve THAT?!"

"No, but he killed so many people in the name 'a greed!"

"Well good, then why not just execute 'em normally?"

"It was to make an example!"

"An example? That selfish people who challenge their corporate overlords will be destroyed without mercy?"

"Sue, do you WANT the economy to die?"

"No, but I'm saying that the punishment for Boris was too harsh."

"He was asking for it."

"Then couldn't he have received a normal punishment? That's the thing. Burning at the stake is too harsh for a normal murder."

"A normal murder? There ain't no 'normal murders'! Nearly a hundred lives lost! Good glob, Sue, what about the victims?"

"They'd get justice if he was hanged or tabled or fried, Mary! It was too far!"

---

As the demonstrations entered their third day, the general populace was getting bitter at the proximity of the protestors to train stations and general commerce and traffic. Blocking any form of traffic was unconditionally forbidden in TurtleShroom. The numbers had welled from ten thousand around Ashton Fish's sphere of influence, on to two hundred fifty thousand nationwide. Police were on edge, and so were local captains of industry, weary that the cancer of hate and class warfare would metastize in their company towns, or factories, or places of business.

All in all, life continued, and it was business as usual. However, the heavy air of weariness and the hate spread by the demonstrators towards the well off was a new and disturbing trend. The oldest TurtleShroomers warned their offspring of the Soviet Union and its attempt to spread this very action by "exporting revolution". Then, during the Fascist Era, Macksoc, the Stalinist, faux-Marxist Sikasith administration, attempted to break the country using the same mindset. Children listened attentively, and these elders, especially experts in their time, were well received.

No one reasoned that Mackonia was behind this, and rightly so. Mackonia was in chaos and a civil war had just given way to a provisional government that was grappling to retake power. The Cyzarri eunuchs from the southern region had not really harmed anyone once they woke up and relalized something important was missing. (Perhaps the removed hormones stifiled their aggression?) Of all the countries, only Lynxica could have "exported a revolution" of this nature, but Lynxica was getting carpet bombed by the Aashinian Commissariat.

Yet, no one believed this was spontaneous. Ashton Fish could have created many demonstrations in the cities and areas he was governing, but the demonstrators there did not encompass even a slight majority of the entire demonstrators' presence. Something, someone, had to be out there. -but who? TurtleShroom had many enemies, but few would try to topple the regime again, after they proved to withstand a literal and total invasion.

The mystery grew on, and the rain fell even harder.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

"Your Most Sober Majesty! Sir!" a reporter called out, holding a large, Cold War-era microphone in the face of the tortoise king.

"What do you have to say about elevating the execution of Boris Duum to the maximum penalty?"

King Outtacountry said nothing.

"I am more concerned about my nation's conduct towards the nekoes."

"WHAT?"

The King grinned to himself. That'll keep them from asking questions about this before the press conference.

---

The podium outside the largest Baptist Church in TurtleShroom was surrounded by reporters. Television cameras, radio broadcasters, and the flashes of both lay and professional photographers' cameras filled the area with blinding light. Ham radio operators were also present, reporting to their fans back home the news. It seemed every form of TurtleShroomer media had showed up today, and for good reason. The entire thing was covered in a tent (loaned by the church) to keep the rain off them. Coupled with the lights from behind him, the scene could not be any more clear.

One of the Chancellery Guard, alongside one of the Nuclear Football keepers, lifted the good king up on a stack of phone books. King Outtacountry turned to face the audience. Many foreign faces from across the Region and abroad were in the audience. The tortoise took a deep breath and began.

"The press conference has convened." he opened. "I am King Maven Outtacountry. A few days ago, I ordered the punishment for Boris Duum, a mass murderer and possible violent, non-Quaker Marxist provacateur, to be elevated from a standard execution to TurtleShroom's greatest punishment. He was burnt at the stake."

Shouts and the sound of voices meddled into one jumble of noise coupled the flashing of cameras and raised microphones. The King sat quietly until they calmed down. Then, he continued in his "lecture mode", the calm, level voice and tone he used for when he had to be a politician instead of a diplomat.

"As historians well know, this is the first execution by this manner in a hundred twenty five years. The last man executed this way did not have the technology of modern times, and was sedated using only ether. We believe that man felt the pain, but today, I can assure you, as can all witnesses, doctors, and anestheziologists present at the execution, that inmate Duum felt no pain and was fully unconcious during the burning. I swear, on my honor and surely as the Lord God lives, that the punishment was painless. Besides, if you're so uptight over this, where are you during electrocutions, where no sedative is used? Boris felt no pain, but those in the electric chair aren't that lucky."

More noise and camera flashes ensued. These disappated soon enough.

"I am here today to answer any and all questions about this execution and the unrest occuring in the realm. I will accept all questions regardless of the speakers' origin. The only requirement I require the audience to observe is standard TurtleShroomer protocol for broadcasting: no sexual content and no cursing will be allowed. Thank you."

He paused, looking over the now quiet audience.

"First question. Who wishes to open this discussion?"

[Greater Mackonia]

No one reasoned that Mackonia was behind this, and rightly so. Mackonia was in chaos and a civil war had just given way to a provisional government that was grappling to retake power. The Cyzarri eunuchs from the southern region had not really harmed anyone once they woke up and relalized something important was missing. (Perhaps the removed hormones stifiled their aggression?) Of all the countries, only Lynxica could have "exported a revolution" of this nature, but Lynxica was getting carpet bombed by the Aashinian Commissariat.

OOC: Mackonia is no longer in civil war. Just thought that might be an important fact to note, I may post here...eventually. Actually no, I'll put this in IC form...

---

A rather scruffy looking Cat with long ginger fur, dressed in a dark grey trench coat and a bowler hat, shouted out above the mass of reporters.

"Oi Mr...uh Maven! My brother was denied entry to Crystal Spires tw-"

"That's the wrong Maven Phslot. That Maven has wings, remember?" Said another Cat standing next to him.

"Oh yeah...anyway Mr Outtacountry, I would like to correct the misconception in your country's government that the Republic of Greater Mackonia is in any way in a state of civil conflict! As a Mackonian I can assure you this is complete nonsense! Our country has been wholly unified under the banner of the new ideology of Maglosi-Mythurinist Agonocracy! Hail Maglos! The Civil War ended some weeks ago Mr Outtacountry and as Minister for Foreign Affairs I should think you ought to have known this."

A muffled chorus of disgruntled heckling rose from the audience as the Cat continued to speak.

"Do you have a question or not?" Came an angry query.

"Oh errr....ehm..". The Cat stood there wracking his brains to think of a question before suddenly his eyes lit up, "Mr Outtacountry what is the TurtleShroomer government's position on the Movement of Agonocracy and the thought of Z.Maglos as so currently interpreted by the Sakystrumaar Party?"

He sat down smugly, to a second muffled round of disgruntled mumbling from those who actually wanted to hear about Boris and TS labour riots, not Mackonia's latest experiment in tyranny and corruption.

[OOC:] Feel free not to necessarily answer this, I just thought an IC post looked better and at least gets the questions rolling].

[TURTLESHROOM II]

Maven responded accordingly.

{OOC: Mack, the excerpt about the Mack civil war was not said by Maven. I narrated that, not Maven. Maven knew this already.}

"Although that question doesn't pertain to the purview of this forum, I will be happy to answer any question."

He paused.

"The 'rule by struggle' is an unique twist on more classical ideals, that's for sure. As we always say in TurtleShroom, competition is always good. Many in TurtleShroomer academia will argue that this is a form of warlordism, anarcho-capitalism, or feudalism. They will say that is mixed with the principles of aristocracy, rule of the best, and the rule by one's merit. After all, the only true state institution in your system is, in fact, the schoolhouse and the college, to ensure equality of oppurtunity, and from there is where you get your warlords. If i recall, did your thinker not say 'anarchism for those who know how to use it, and dictatorship for the Masses'?"

He smiled.

"It's a respectable ideal and I wish its prosperity and success in your homeland. It certainly lines up with the classical God willing, the Agonocrats and TurtleShroom's captains of industry will come together to benefit each other through the time-tested truths and virtues of free market competition and mutual benefit based on trying to outdo each other for their own profit, to everyone's betterment. Capitalism is beautiful, and Agonocracy extends it, at least on paper. Anticlericalism is frowned upon here, but that doesn't mean it'll work in your noble fatherland, my Mackonian friend."

He looked to the audience.

"Next question?"

[Comrade Commisar]

"I have a question, King Outtacountry," spoke a young woman, her gloved hand raised in the air, "What is the Turtleshroomian government doing to address the current civil disorders throughout the South Lands?"

It did not take long for the crowd to identify the young woman, of whom donned all black military attire, shrouded within a leather cape to keep out the rain, and who displayed the insignia of the Commonwealth Navy engraved upon a piece of steel riveted to her kepi. Beside her was a man dressed within similar attire, holding an umbrella underneath his arm, the seeming aide to the woman; Commodore Cecilia Winters of Litlin. Whispering to the man, who responded within hushed whispers of his own, Winters returned her attention to the Turtleshroomian King, confidently stating her inquiries.

"Certainly, our hearts lay with the victims of the razed company town, and the families of those who perished that day. However, the Turtleshroomian government - nay - your decision, King Outtacountry, has left some Commonwealth citizens within Turtleshroom in question." Winters stated calmly, "The 'unique' execution of Mister Duum is almost guarenteed to enrage otherwise indifferent laborers throughout Turtleshroom, and regardless of your intentions at the time, you must have some sort of contingency plan to guard against the potential bloodshed within the near future. Correct?"

Mumbles and grunts could be heard throughout the crowd, some discontent at the choice of the speaker, others content to merely be addressing the issue at hand.

Cecilia Winters had her reasons for being concerned about the endeavors of the Turtleshroomian government, as did many other Commonwealth citizens conducting business within the Turtleshroom. Many found the Turtleshroomian government to be particularly lacking in ability to control any situation, especially following the last Bad October incident, in which the Turtleshroomers fell dramatically short of regional expectations. There was additional concern for Commonwealth assets within Turtleshroom, with the labor riots almost certain to halt production, with the high possibility of destroying established infrastructure and damaging returns for multiple quarters. Other issues were the supposed hostilities between the Commonwealth Navy and the Sky Guard within Litlin, which would significantly effect the ability to counter any expansion of the riots to Litlin, which was already questionable considering the reassignment of garrisons following the War of Steel.

"It is no secret that there has been a significant increase of militant factions within Turtleshroom, King Outtacountry, and with the recent execution which seems to oppose all civility formerly proposed by the Turtleshroomian government, it is highly likely that these factions shall use this opportunity to further their own agendas." Winter's aide, Lieutanent Florent Lefebvre noted, swiftly glancing at some piercing gazes within the crowd, "Considering the vigilante nature and mentality of self-justified mobs within Turtleshroomian society, we are greatly concerned about the well-being of foreign nationals, as well as other innocent civilians throughout Turtleshroom. We would wish to avoid armed conflicts within the streets conducted by hostile militant factions, but likewise, we would wish to avoid a igniting witchhunts by local officials and citizens."

Lefebvre turned to Winters, who merely offered a slight affirming nod back to the Lieutanent. Taking their seats amongst the indifferent and indistinguishable muttering of the crowd, the two Commonwealth individuals patiently awaiting answers from King Outtacountry.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

The King took note of the presence of Winters and paused to think of an answer.

"Admiraless Winters, it is a privilege for you to join us this afternoon. Private interests independent of your Commissariat's government have invested in TurtleShroom for quite a while now, and they, like all job creators and captains of industry in TurtleShroom, deserve protection from hate and class warfare naturally spawned by those embittered by their success and too lazy to work to reach that level."

He looked to the audience.

"TurtleShroomer police and martial forces are ready to engage anyone who attacks a TurtleShroomer citizen or captain of industry. As the foreigners have so greatly enriched our country, we have a secondary obligation to defend them from class warfare and hate, too."

The tortoise paused again, suddenly remembering something important.

"I actually recall good news from Litlin. Though their relations with your country are bitter these days, Scarlet Guardsmen, who as you remember, defected and settled in the city, are particularly interested in protecting and defending their former masters. In fact, Cephas Block himself is cracking down on demonstrations and threats of violence using deputized Guardsmen, private military contractors, and the Litlin police forces. I assume they're doing this out of a sense of former duty and, moreso, to ensure you don't come back to punish them for defection."

He nodded.

"That's a good thing. See, I said that to say this. Of all the places in TurtleShroom, Litlin is definitely going to be the safest. Scarlet Guardsmen were trained to crush troublemakers like this, just as your elite Navy does, and they have shared these lessons with Litlin forces. Furthermore, all of them are battle hardened from tracking down and exterminating terrorists such as the Fishermen, who, as you know, have strung TurtleShroomer citizens and Commissariat subjects alike on the eaves of Litlin's buildings. A simple matter like class warfare is not going to be aproblem. Litlin has been under lockdown for nearly a year. We estimate, right now, that our forces have killed at least seventy five percent of known Fishermen are either dead or undergoing 'patriotic persuasion'- that's waterboarding and sleep deprivation, honored Admiraless -to reveal their leaders and sources. None have cracked. Whoever, or whatever, sent them sent the best in the business."

King Outtacountry continued.

"Cephas has Litlin under control. Now, about TurtleShroom itself, that, I am afraid, is going to be murkier. These riots are almost entirely grievances in the industrial sector: company town mills, and salaried factories. No known agricultural workers under Commissariat investors have revolted, according to our sources. I'm betting this is because of the same reason no one in Mighty B Oil towns are stirring: you pay obscenely higher wages in bullion, versus the truck system's Scrip, while Bessford invests in luxuries unknown to much of the salaried TurtleShroomer workforce."

He nodded again.

"What are we going to do with these rioters? Well," he said, his normally warm voice suddenly shifting to a darker intonation. "Ever since the arrival of the Industrial Revolution to our shores, we have invested our blood and sweat into lazziez-faire capitalism, balanced by the holy commands of Our Lord to freely give to the poor. We have watched as great nations and booming economies were molested, violated, and raped by selfish, greedy fools who cared not about fiscal solvency, but only how much money they could pocket for themselves, to the destruction of everyone else and to the insolvency of their employer, who, without them, would be on the streeet."

The tortoise furrowed his brow, in a passionate stance unusual to his neutral, calm personality.

"Let history be your guide to that question, Admiraless. Every capitalist nation ultimately faces a labor movement- nay, a riot -and no nation has ever been brave enough to stand up to the face of hate, envy, greed, and class warfare, and shout 'NO' Sure, every nation said that at first, but what next? This won't happen here, ladies, gentlemen, and others. We have watched nations fall to labor riots, and may I remind you that one of the greatest, most beautiful monarchies in NationStates fell to a certain Red agitator in the early twentieth century. We won't let a Bolshevik clone take us out. Not here. Not as long as anyone draws breath in TurtleShroom."

The determiend look on his face did not falter.

"History tells us that the Mensheviks believed that every nation could peacibly be Marxist by first having a beourgoise revolution against absolutism and monarchism, and then follow it with a proletarian transition throught he organs of the state. It has been generations since that risk was stopped. Our ancestors prevented 'exporting revolution', an attempt from the early Macksock administration to metastize their Stalinist cancer from happening here. That leaves but one final broad form of class struggle left: Trotsky. The violent overthrowal of the state."

He practically hissed Trotsky's name out of his mouth as if it was a curse.

"We've had over a century to know exactly what they do and we have thousands of object lessons, some happening even now, on how to stop class warfare from becoming all out class struggle. I read Marxist works in my career as a diplomat, and I know these people, these Trotskyists, will do anything to force their hateful, envious greed on others. So let me word it this way."

The turtle king paused, with a visible air of confidence about him.

"Admiraless Winters, let's say.... our society is prepared to confront a labor movement. Labor movements willing to use force must be met with force. I upgraded Boris' execution to make an example of him, to show the ultimate fate of anyone who dares spread hate, greed, and envy against successful people. Greed and envy are the enemies of God, and the love of money is the root of all evil. Those without money can lust for it like the wealthy, and their greed turns into entitled demands; this is where we get the crux of Marxist class struggle. Instead of working to raise one's class, they work to bring others to equal, classless misery."

He frowned.

"We will meet these rioters with the full force of TurtleShroom. We will personally assume responsibility for any deaths these monsters cause our people, our property, and our investors all across NationStates. Trotskyists advocate only hate, death, and violence. We are prepared to give them what they asked for. Many may die if this revolt is not stopped, but TurtleShroom will never forfeit its founding values of true prosperity, meritous advancement of self, and economic choice. The riotors will learn why their movement's banner is red. Mark my words, if this becomes violent, we will do anything it takes to save innocent lives and livelihoods. That is all."

[The Incorporation and Gerry]

The Press Confrence

The C'tani were not known for their reporters, and so that one had come out from the city of Gerry would probably be a surprise, the wedge of stern looking bodyguards that surrounded her giving her a look of a lark escorted by eagles. She rested a hand on the pommel of a long curved sword which was worn point-forward, and the camera she used sat on her shoulder like a parrot. She listened with interest and then called out a question, simple as could be, a straightforward question that was easily answered.

"King Outtacountry?" no 'Your Majesty' here, it seemed, the woman's voice was sweet, though, her accent had the tone of having grown up through many years of calling for servants in some grand household, as though her vocal cords had become accustomed to filling a cavernous, marble-clad space. "I have a question," she paused, tilting her head back slightly to look at the turtle.

"This man caused a riot, you say, and you attribute his crime as being terrible, and yet, the only demand that we are aware of being made by this union was the end of the immoral practices used to restrict the mobility of the employees, the so-called truck system, and the payment in the coin of the realm." She paused, "what crimes have the company town enforcers who machine-gunned a crowd being charged with? At the very least one would imagine that is reckless endangerment; or is there not even a pretence of legal equality between the sla- the workers in the company towns and their mast- their employers before the law? It seems that the workers who produce your oil and cotton are able to be killed with impunity for work stoppages and protests, and that is… profoundly disappointing to some of my viewers."

The Vice-city of Gerry

Meanwhile, in the north, the situation was being discussed in the boozing dens and smoke-filled nymphariums of the City of Gerry, whose industries had blossomed under C'tani leadership, from drink to drugs and other kinds of vice, the libertine laws had brought prosperity of a sort to Gerry. Outside the Emerald Bong Smoking Palace, a street preacher from some Christian denomination was engaged in a shouting match with an Iterator, one of the C'tani corps of educator-rhetorists who preached the strange virtues of the C'tani society, a pair of necrons stood flanking the man in case anyone decided unwisely to interfere with his denouncement of prudish values of the local peoples.

A screen showed the press conference, live, and a variety of persons watched it between the gyrations of a pair of naked nekos, male and female, who danced in a cage.

"The thing with the Turtleshroom savages, is that they seem to have forgotten we were never very happy about this crypto slavery they've got going on," a C'tani, Thriva ita Thurasid, dressed in a half-unbuttoned uniform jacket, her blouse showing a trace of spilled wine. "If they keep on doing this kind of thing, then," she paused, thumping the table, "something will have to be done!"

"Should machine gun the lot of the capitalist dog-pigs," Jerral Lombarde, the Spirean aid worker reclined up with her said, blowing a smoke ring, tail swishing.

Thriva smiled, "Yes, I'd buy that for a freskil," she said, waving over a waiter, "Bring me some tacos, I'm feeling strangely hungry…" she said, waving a bundle of freedom-skillets his way.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

The tortoise King did not initially recognize the next inquiry as being of Necrontyr origin, but the rhetoric

"First, Employees in the truck system are not 'slaves', ma'am."

King Outtacountry sighed, wishing he had a nose with which he could pinch the bridge of.

"A slave is seen as chattel, a tragic 'good' to be bought and sold like cattle. A truck system employee is in the company town of his own free will, voluntarily signing a contract, and he and his family can leave any time they like."

He pondered the other question.

"Second, an employee is entitled only to what he agrees to be paid. Truck system tenants sign contracts agreeing to be paid in food, clothing, housing, water, medicine, and other essentials for living. If they want to be paid in salaried form, piecework, or hourly wages, they should have gotten a job that pays that way. They have the right to choose, and they have a right to leave. Contrary to what you think, the truck system is not the entierity of the TurtleShroomer workforce."

He then addressed the shootings.

"Third, and foremost, the security guards that made the horridly difficult decision to turn their guns on the townfolk did so in defense. All accounts, including those of the survivors, agree that the shootings began when the rioters disturbed, harassed, or even attacked the guards. As is protocol, workers can shirk their obligations and duties for any valid holidays of any religion, for medical emergencies, for deaths in the family, for births in the family, and so on. Also, each company is given the option to tack on additional 'sick days', paid vacation time, and whatever else they wish. Employees going Away Without Leave are asked to either get back to work or vacate the company town until their issue is addressed, and by that, I mean until they are fired. If they refuse to heed the warnings and continue to loiter on the private property in protest of whatever it is they're uppity about, they can be charged with trespassing. In TurtleShroom, non-violent trespassers can be shot if they refuse to make their way off the property after a warning, and thieves, as well as violent trespassers, can be shot at will."

He paused.

"However, the circumstances of this riot were not just based on shooting trespassers. No, this time, as the witnesses can attest, Boris' Host consisted of a large group of employees and neighbors outside the town who deliberately blockaded the only roads in and out of the company town, as well as sabotaging the railways to prevent trains from pulling in at the station. I'll repeat: Boris' Host actually destroyed company property and, using welding equipment stolen from the supplies of the town, had the rails twisted into Sherman Bowties. Before it was found out, when asked for their reasoning for not working, an altercation erupted where the tenants barraged insultes at the guards. At some point, something was thrown at one of the guards, probably by an agent-provocateur to spawn violence, but they did not respond until they were approached by a foreman who informed them that the railroad tracks were destroyed. When the crowd began to celebrate amongst themselves, the guards ordered them to exit the company town. They refused, and, after a brief shouting match, the guards opened fire, fully unaware that there were armed creatures in the back of the crowd.."

He paused, visibly frowning as if he did not wish to recount the next bit.

"From there, tragedy struck. In what can best be explained as a shocked mob mentality created out of rage, rioters that were not shot scattered and attempted to attack the guards and the town's infrastructure. Armed rioters dispersed in the rioters' crowd open fired, killing at least one guard. The guards scattered, as did the rioters. The company store was the first to be set aflame, and it, as well as its keeper, burnt to the ground. We have reason to believe that Boris himself did it. The guards immediately realized the entire town was going to be razed, and they began shooting everyone they saw to stop the mass arson. The facts speak for themselves, ma'am. The guards are not going to be charged. They are going to be celebrated as heroes who saved the lives of the honest, good employees who had refused to join the riot. Sadly, the destruction caused many innocents and guards to die."

The king scowled again.

"The guards were not alone in shooting. The rioters shot back and torched the entire complex, yet you pity them? These madmen destroyed hundreds of thousands of Skillets' worth of railroad infrastructure, and you're okay with this? If you care of the plight of the workers, what do you think is going to happen to them now that they have to be furloughed while the company has to buy and lay new railroad tracks?
Ma'am, Boris' Host had no regard for private property nor decency, and you side with them over innocents? Is this the mindset you people encourage in Gerry?"

He concluded.

"In TurtleShroom, all creatures are equal before the law. That means that the government must treat them equally and not play favorites. However, private businesses are not the government and may treat those under its auspices any way they like, and if they abuse that ability, any creature can either file for redress in court for damages of themselves or others, or they can ask the Board of Labor Purity to represent them in court. An injured or killed worker gets his day in court, and no, not an arbitration center at the company, but a proper TurtleShroomer court of law. You sorely misunderstand the way things work here. Workers have fundamental rights under TurtleShroomer law, but private companies are not TurtleShroomer law, so workers do not have rights in the company. Workers are entitled to nothing from their employers that their employers do not choose to give, and if they disagree, they can get a job elsewhere. If they are injured or killed, they can sue for damages. The private business is not the government. Employees have no rights in their employer's world, only in society as a whole. Fundamental rights apply to the treatment of citizens by the government, not the treatment of employees by their bosses. Does this make sense at all to you?"

[The Incorporation and Gerry]

The reporter, 'Miss' in the local terms, Itaria Dyvanakh, held one hand on her wrist, both arms in front of her and shifted slightly, moving to the balls of one foot; if there was one thing that could be said about the C'tani it was that their fashion sense at least confirmed to Turtleshroomer norms, her high collar of starched violet fabric came up to the nape of her neck behind, and bound just below her larynx with a bronze and silver fastener ornamented with deep garnet cloisonné in the same violet as her robe, which was ornamented in silver and bronze all the way down, from broad shoulders to sleeve cuffs that held a small host of buttons along their length; C'tani were far from working class in appearance, almost universally appearing prosperous if a strange blend of medieval and modern, oriental and European in style. In deference to the local style, too, she wore glasses, though she didn't require them, they served both as sunglasses and an overlay to her vision, remote computer systems feeding through information about what was said as it was spoken, and helpfully subcaptioning the broad local drawl in the dimensional script of the necrontyr as whoever she addressed spoke, letting her avoid asking for corrections.

"With all due respect, King Outtacountry, it's not my press conference, and I don't think concrete answers will be obtained by engaging in an argument over competing systems of jurisprudence. To humour the question, yes, on the whole my nation considers the right to shoot someone that intrudes on one's land, with probable cause, to be reasonable and we are," she paused, tapping the side of the holster fastened on her right hand side by a broad belt of leather lined with armourweave, "keen to enforce our rights. But conversely to call people trespassers who actually live in the area, as tenants, on the grounds that they are trespassing by having an assembly, well…" she paused, "doesn't that seem a little off to you? Let's recap," her manicured hand rose, counting off points by tapping the tip of one finger as she extended it, billowing sleeve of the upper layer of her robes falling about in the monsoon rain.

"First, Damage to company property.

"Second, one instance of assault, whereby 'something was thrown' at a guard, following which we come to…

"Third," she said, "the guards order the population to, en-masse, without notice or appeal, without consultation or compensation, disband their community and leave, presumably using the now disabled railroad, or were they supposed to trek through the desert? Anyway, this leads to…

"Fourth…" she said, "the population shout out to protest this action, which seems at the most charitable to the company, a high handed act." She held up her hand, thumb out.

"Then we come to the fifth part, where the guards decide that one instance of assault, and some instances of trespass, justify a mass excecution, aiming and firing at people who, with one exception, have done nothing more than minor vandalism, and creating a public disturbance."

"Somehow it's a wonder to you that these people, and foreign audiences, think they're treated with capricious cruelty by the landowners.
"As for the notion of an agent-provocateur, you say there might have been one; let me say this again. There might. And yet you convicted Boris Duum of two counts of acting as one, it seems like the court standards are lacking here, if you are unable to say with clarity who was acting as an agent-provocateur, and on whose part; has it occurred to your government that it is just as likely to be the company employing such as the workers; once a bottle is thrown, it seems, all stops are off and the company can do what they like to the population, and call the entire protest violent. I can't imagine a private security company that wouldn't employ at least one agent provocateur to throw a bottle at one of their armsmen at any protest as a matter of course simply because it seems to excuse them from any and all liability. Once a bottle is thrown in a company town, it seems that the law you speak so highly of, is prepared to write the matter off as unworthy of investigation further. Ineffectual enforcement of the law is the same as having no law, if the law is so easily manipulated, then it protects no one, for human nature being as sinful as it is, it seems entirely probable that every private security firm in the land would pay a man of low character to start a little violence before a protest, simply because it will save them money. Has this been investigated? What protections are in place against this?

"As for the railroad, I imagine it will take little time to repair, this is not the nineteenth century, if the company cares, a batallion of Prussian Imperial Engineers can lay new rails and build infrastructure to support a railroad at a rate of ten miles per day," the glasses furnished the number even as she spoke, "I'm sure the Turtleshroomian railway companies are at least comparable, given how important the railroad is here. "

Itaria paused, pursing her lips, "The question, in fundamentals then, is how can you convict a man beyond reasonable doubt when the means, motive, that is to say, civil liability, and opportunity to perform the same crime can easily be established for another party in the matter, even by someone who is merely looking at the situation from a distance. That doesn't look like justice to my audience, it looks like cruel and unusual punishment without proper investigation."

[TURTLESHROOM II]

The King listened closely to the commentary in reply and began to formulate his response.

"The law requires a routine investigation to be conducted if guardsmen in a company town resort to lethal force. Several different branches of the government, as well as the company town and guard band itself, are undergoing investigations as we speak, as is required. Regarding Duum himself, the capital crimes he was executed for were the deaths of all those workers that weren't in his Host, as well as the guardsmen, and also the arson, most visibly, the death of the clerk in the company store that was set on fire. As the documentation publically released notes, there were many non-capital crimes committed."

He continued.

"What is the protocol to prevent security firms from paying someone to start a riot? Capital punishment. Agents provocateur who force a riot into lethality are considered murderers and face capital punishment accordingly. Note that the official reports state, as I said earlier, that the attempt to throw items at the guards to make them shoot did not engage in their attack. That was after it was realized that they were all unexcused in their absence from their posts and they were ordered to leave until things were calm, and until their jobs were addressed."

The King made note to speak of this next part.

"The official protocol for unruly workers who are either blocking traffic or being delinquents, such as deliberate slow downs, striking, or other public nuisances, is to evict them from the grounds. In other words, they are walked to the gates of the town and made to stand there while their jobs are reviewed. There is no need to make them 'walk into the desert', as you worded it, because they need only stand outside the limits of the town. Firing-" King Outtacountry stopped abruptly to clear his throat, "-reviewing their employment for either reinstatement or termination takes less than a day, and if it takes longer, they are provided food, water, blankets, and if neccesary, shelter until the issue is resolved. The general practice is to terminate the employment of any delinquent, but many times, first or second time offenders, as well as petty offenders, are normally shown mercy and allowed to return to their job. Some companies even include this mercy in their contracts; a certain amout of industrial action behaviors will be excused in the name of mercy or goodwill."

King Outtacountry frowned.

"Sadly, the company in this case, Hart's Oil, is not known for its mercy. They don't call them 'Black Heart' for nothing. Hart's Oil is famous for firing its employees at the slightest incident of rebellion, but no lethal case has ever occured on their auspices since they were founded in the mid-nineties. Most employees comply with evictions out of duty and humility, knowing that they will be cared for in the transition from one job to the next. The idea of vicious, arrogant, or otherwise hostile employees in a society like TurtleShroom is considered an affront on both employee and employer. Ask any TurtleShroomer watching this broadcast that isn't on the streets rioting. No one likes an entitled employee."

He paused.

"The concept of the company store is that the tenents are paid in food, water, shelter, and luxuries, but not actual hard currency. In exchange for their work, the company provides all of their needs and many of their wants. Unless the company maintains a pension policy that lets lifetime tenants' families be permanently gifted their home for their decades of work, as many do, then they are tenants, not property owners. Tenants' rights exist at the owner's pleasure, with a few requirements on the landlord's part.
Renters' law in TurtleShroom allows for eviction without notice if the landlord has an alternate location for the tenants to stay and is able to provide them with neccesities to survive outside a house, such as food, water, and, say, a hotel room to keep them safe, for the duration of their lack of housing. In other words, landlords can evict someone immediately if either the renters have a palce to go, as listed on the contract, or the landlord has lodging and neccesities set aside for evicted tenants. Otherwise, a two weeks' notice is both tradtional and obligatory. Unless there is a breach of contract, tenants cannot appeal the decision of a landlord to evict them because it is not their land."

He nodded.

"Those failing to comply with an eviction within a given time frame, set by the contract of the property's rental, are trespassers and can be removed by force. In the case of this tragedy, the company store's time for compliance to leave the property was three hours. I must note, though, that three hours did not expire before the violence began. In fact, only twelve minutes passed before the projectile was thrown, but it was not until one hour passed that the actual violence occured."

The King sighed.

"TurtleShroomer railroad companies' rates of railroads also reach miles in a day, but in this case, the company's private train station is off the beaten path, so to speak, and is made and maintained by the company alone. There is no iron in TurtleShroom. All iron is imported from far away, namely New Olwe, and we smelt steel in limited quantities for things like rails. An oil town, like the one in this tragedy, uses very high capacity rails that can only be laid with steel tracks. Normal, cheaper, easier to acquire ron rails are usually exclusively for transport and commuter trains. The real arteries of commerce have been steel for nearly ninety years, and steel is hard to get. Railroad companies man their own steel mills, but a small player in the oil game like this situation has to get in line for imports. That takes time, so destroying lines of rail is bigger than it sounds for a smaller company."

The good king sighed.

"Essentially, it was a perfect storm. A company with a strict firing policy and no mercy, coupled with a bad storm and an antsy populace, in a time of great instabiltiy, during an economic slump, only needed a charasmatic spark to ruin everything. Boris Duum was at the right place in the right time. His greed and animosity towards his betters, his hatred for proper behavior, and a bitterness towards society as a whole drove him to deceive many innocents into following him. None of them are on Death Row, may I add. Some are facing prison sentences, but most of them just ran around and screamed, instead of having guns. There's no criminal penalty for being annoying, and we are trying to sort out the sheep from the armed shepherds, so to speak. Boris Duum and all the rioters that had guns have been apprehended. From our sources, there were eleven creatures, nine humans and two turtles, that were armed."

The King scowled as he began the final bit.

"All but one of those eleven are either facing life in prison or death. The one exception was a foreign born human here on a work permit. He's been monitored for a while, but wiretapping was ultimately ceased when we couldn't discover the reasons for his disappearences every week and had no further leads. We were wrong to stop. We have since learned that he worked for Boris Duum underground. We suspect him and Boris to be a member of the Jacobins, a cell attempting to cleanse TurtleShroom's labor law of perceived injustices by blood. Right now, he is at one of our facilities being waterboarded to discover who sent him.
The Jacobins are named after the nineteenth century, far-left organization that attempted to overthrow monarchies by violence, and were borne of and related to the bloody Reign of Terror after the original French Revolution. In later years, and as we see here, the Jacobins joined with Marxists in the attempts to form a cradle-to-grave welfare state where initative is taxed and people get things they do not earn simply for breathing, to the detriment of innovation and morality, replacing dependence on God and family with dependence on the government.
Surely you've heard of the Liberal Democratic Socialists category of governments? Think of it that way, except more Godless and far more comprehensive.
TurtleShroom can neither afford nor bare the load of a welfare state from cradle to grave. We already have generous public pension plans for all workers that retire, and if there is no state measure, all workers can sue for redress and damages in court, for things like workman's compensation.
We have reason to believe that the Jacobins are attempting to overthrow the TurtleShroomer government to instill their anti-capitalistic views.
A lot of us believe, without proof, that Allanea or another enemy is aiding them. Before you ask, we have no evidence of any remote possibility that the Necrons are in on this. In fact, we are sure of it. Allanea is our biggest guess, but Crystal Spires may still believe in Allanea's lies, as your good peoples and the Urmanian hosses once were."

[The Ctan]

Itaria raised an eyebrow, wondering two things.

The first was how Turtleshroom had no iron, such a large country, well, perhaps there'd been some kind of civilization here in the ancient past, that had produced the uranium and scooped up the iron? She could think of no other way that that could have happened. The second was to wonder what Maven was talking about, oh certainly she knew of Jacobins and Marxists, and the many other strange philosophies that dominated the thinking of foreign cultures, but the idea that Allaneans were supporting Marxism struck her as deranged, when she'd been a girl she'd watched the newscasts from the Great Lenin and Federation of Soviet Socialist Republics attempting to invade Allanea and convert it to Marxist-Leninism, and she recalled sneaking past her parents to look at the sea full of bodies from the great invasion barges the communists had sent with men packed so high that they stood on the top deck, which had sunk by the score.

"Oh-kay…" she said eyebrow still raised quizzically. The notion that iron could be so rare, well… "Thank-you."

This reporter thing was a crock. That was a just plain weird answer. She held up her hand and turned around in a circle, speaking loudly.

"Listen up Turtleshroomers, I will be here next week, and I will be selling title to iron ore pellets at one hundred dollars to the tonne, a thousand tonnes per sale, to be shipped straight in from Gerry and pure as a bible and fast as a cockfight, clearly you people need more iron, and Itaria Steel will deliver. My office is available on Gerry-773-5892. That's Gerry-773-5892. Itaria Steel."

And with that, she left. She should probably tell her staff that they were now a iron ore import company.

[YellowApple]

YellowApple Department of Corporate Operations
Official Corporate Transmission


King Maven Outtacountry,

YellowApple, Inc. has received reports of high unemployment rates in the nation
of TurtleShroom.  Seeing as YellowApplans and TurtleShroomers have historically
had a more-or-less cordial relationship in spite of our nations' rather
significant philosophical and societal differences (and seeing as both
"YellowApple" and "TurtleShroom" are "CamelCased" proper nouns), it would be
uncouth to not at least attempt to suggest a solution.

You see, 'tis increasingly apparent that TurtleShroom is in dire need of the
sort of commercial and industrial innovation that YellowApple, Inc. has
championed throughout the multiverse - ranging from technological enhancements
in agricultural sectors to revamps of service industries.  'Tis also true that
YellowApple, Inc. consistently desires stable sources of agricultural goods -
staples and delicacies alike - to supplement its own hydroponic agricultural
industries.

In short, we believe that a partnership between your nation and YellowApple,
Inc. would help alleviate the myriad of problems which - to be blunt - are
currently rocking your people and diminishing national morale.  Such a
partnership would be a continuation and extension of previous arrangements,
including (but not limited to) those resulting from formal political ties due
to various alliance memberships.

Namely, we propose the following:

* Establishment of YellowApple, Inc. Field Headquarters in major TurtleShroomer
  cities, starting with Jonesboro and Shroomville

* Establishment of YellowApplan Superluminal Transit Network static nodes in
  major TurtleShroomer cities, starting with Jonesboro and Shroomville

* Establishment of YellowApple, Inc. manufacturing facilities and warehouses
  throughout TurtleShroom, particularly in localities with higher-than-average
  unemployment rates

* Authorization for YellowApple, Inc. to establish "company towns" within
  TurtleShroomer jurisdiction, with the same authorities, rights, and
  responsibilities of the establishers of other such "company towns" in
  TurtleShroom

* Assignment of a research team from the University of Manzanopolis Prime's
  Agricultural Sciences Department to examine TurtleShroomer soil composition
  and propose strategies to address the higher-than-average precipitation
  quantities currently experienced by TurtleShroomer farmers

* Assignment of a YellowApple, Inc. Senior Corporate Representative and
  YellowApple Department of International Relations Senior Diplomatic
  Representative to your office's advisory council (or equivalent body) to
  advise on issues pertaining to TurtleShroom's current economic and social
  troubles

* Elimination of any tariffs on goods exchanged between YellowApple, Inc. and
  TurtleShroom (if any tariffs or equivalent fees have been imposed since the
  implied dissolution of the Dragon's Fury Pact of Sovereign Nations)

* Unrestricted migration of the citizens of YellowApple, Inc. and TurtleShroom
  between the two countries (if any restrictions upon this have been imposed
  since the implied dissolution of the Dragon's Fury Pact of Sovereign Nations)

* Arrangement for any TurtleShroomers convicted of crimes relating to those of
  Mr. Boris Duum (including those convicted of participation in riots similar
  to that which Mr. Boris Duum allegedly instigated) to be deported to
  YellowApplan jurisdiction in lieu of punishment otherwise typical for such
  offenses

We believe these arrangements will be an effective first step toward restoring
peace in your nation and maintaining its economic strength.  This is naturally
intended only as the first of many such steps.  We understand that your country
has historically been reluctant to put its trust in foreign interests,
particularly in the ways which we are requesting; we urge you to make an
exception for us - your long-time allies - and let us help you and your people.

We look forward to lasting peace and prosperity between our nations.

Sincerely,

Fostera Manzano
Administrator and Voice of YellowApple

[TURTLESHROOM II]

The Necrontyr envoy's announcement of cheap iron immediately caused the audience to stand up and surround her, waving Skillets, various Scrips, and bullion alike as they shouted to try and invest with her. It was obvious to everyone that this press conference was finished. King Outtacountry quietly adjourned the meeting and went around the church to a limosiene that was to take him home.

[TURTLESHROOM II]

The dispatch from Yellow Apple, the only Ponyist nation in NationStates that had ever had cordial ties with TurtleShroom, was a surprise to many and neccesitated an immediate response.

KINGDOM OF THE UNITED TURTLES, MUSHROOMS, AND MEN OF TURTLESHROOM
EXECUTIVE CABINET
MINISTRY OF THE STOREHOUSE
HEADMASTER AND GRAND TREASURER OF THE STOREHOUSE

Good tidings!

King Outtacountry is tied up in obvious problems at this time, and so cannot dispatch a reply on behalf of MOFA. Therefore, I, Headmaster Plot, do hereby act in his stead to expedite a reply. MOS was going to send you paperwork to establish a company town, anyway.

Most of your nation's requests are beyond the power of the state and are thus inherently approved. Investing in TurtleShroom, establishing company towns, and engaging in the free buying and selling of goods and services is considered the cornerstone of TurtleShroomer society. You do not need to the permission of the government to form such enterprises, provided that you alert the proper local authorities and sign the formal contracts between yourself and landowners. The regulatory burden is very low in TurtleShroom, so most of our demands revovle around the appropriate paperwork to hold yourself and your contractos liable in civil court should injuries or death arise on site.

Chamber of Commerce records show that Yellow Apple, as a coporate legal person, has already registered itself in TurtleShroom. There are several Yellow Applite businesses in TurtleShroom, primarily in public transport- namely, the bus system -and Yellow Apple investors have also erected small, high speed rail networks from factories to residential areas, and from company towns to major cities. It is currently estimated that Yellow Apple citizens control one hundred seventy two miles of railroad. All of these are electrified high speed light rails.

A company town is a legal entity incorporated as a municipality would be. It is fully autonomous and only answers to the government on manners of being held liable for criminality, subject to the Constitution's need for warrants.

To establish a truck system in TurtleShroom, you must first draft and present Bylaws for the municipality detailing its government structure (it can be structured in any non-monarchist way conceivable and need not require employee participation), the rights and priveleges of employees as stated in your contract, proofs of your currency (a physical currency is required), what it is backed by and, if fiat, its fixed, permanent exchange rate to the Skillet. (If you elect to use Yellow Apple state currency, you will not need to provide exchange rates because these are known to TurtleShroomer markets.) You will list any private tribunals or privatized arbitration court systems, if applicable, that you will use to resolve disputes in your holdings. You must provide all tenants with three meals (no requirements as to content) a day, seven days a week, as well as potable water. Under no circumstances can any employee or company town work on Sundays. You will be responsible for the education of all offspring born in in company towns. You are free to teach them as you see fit, subject only to TurtleShroomer law, and are only required to school them once a week at most, for four hours. You are required to care for retired tenants who wish to stay on your land after serving in your employment for the designated minimum for retirement. If you hire a tenent and they move in with their spouse and/or offspring, you are required to feed, clothe, shelter, and care for them as well. You can require offspring to work in the company town if you so direct, persuant to your contracts.

Your final employment contract will be submitted to the Department of the Treasury for archival, not approval. TurtleShroom must have your records on hand for court proceedings, liablity, and criminal disputes. You are already approved unless you break the law in your paperwork. Furthermore, you are responsible for defending your company town's land. You will need to describe what PMC companies will be protecting the area and with what, or if you wish to raise a militia levy or pay the normal TurtlShroomer police to protect you at market rates.

You are not permitted to enage in sorcery, magic, witchcraft, any occultist behavior, or an expressly forbidden religion on your land or within TurtleShroom. (However, telekinesis is permitted when no opposable limbs are available, such as with mushrooms or your ponies.) No alcohol on premises. No cannibis, hard drugs, or illicit substances will be tolerated. Tobacco is allowed outdoors on your land.

Neither Yellow Apple nor your citizens nor your employees are restricted from owning, carrying, and using all forms rifles, guns, pistols, artillery (including but not limited to tanks and wheeled vehicles), and ammunition, be it automatic or otherwise. Any weapon or machine considered military grade (tanks, aircraft, artillery) must receive explicit permission from the local government to exist.

However, weapons that cannot excercise discretion (e.g. bombs, grenades, rocket launchers, missiles, any explosives, WMDs, chemical weapons, etc.) are always forbidden n private ownership.
Concerning your request to dispatch an employee to TurtleShroom as an ambassador, this is a legal kerfuffle. Yellow Apple is a corporation as much as it is a nation state and is recognized as fused into one unit, like a gigantic truck system. The status of your sovereign entity as a nation or a private corporation has been under dispute (and feverish debate) since our two countries made contact.
Until these disputes are resolved, Yellow Apple is free to file for requests for seats on any given Chamber of Commerce in TurtleShroom, or other social clubs or gatherings, as Yellow Apple sees fit.

Finally, to answer your final questions:

• The terms of the Dark Harvest's peace treaties forbid ponies from entering TurtleShroom without expressed permission from both the national and regional authorities, and armed protection. In addition, the environment for horses in TurtleShroom is dangerous, and no one can guarentee safety. If in any way possible, Yellow Apple should dispatch non-equine citizens (be they human or non-human) to interact with TurtleShroomer society. If you wish to send horses, you should ensure they remain out of sight from the rest of TurtleShroom.
• The Steele Pact is still in force. Travel is unrestricted (subject only to criminal law, of course) and there are no tarriffs in place between TurtleShroom Yellow Apple.
• The Constitution of TurtleShroom forbids the state excercising emininent domain for private ventures, so any proposed transport networks or other infrastructure will require either the expressed, written consent of all landowners or the voluntary purchase of land for use on the project. Private property disputes are persuant to contract law and are neither the business of nor in the jurisdiction of TurtleShroom's government outside of the judiciary. Consequently, neither I nor any other government employee can guarentee cooperation between Yellow Apple and landowners in the way of Yellow Applite infrastructure. This, as always, is subjec to the will of the Free Market. You will need to convince those in your path to allow or sell you the rights to build.
• You are free to engage in any scientific endeavors you so wish in TurtleShroom, should you acquire consent from landowners at test sites. No experimentation on sentient beings, living or deceased, is allowed. Medical tests and other tests on turtles, mushrooms, or mankind require TurtleShroomer doctors to be present and engaged in all aspects of testing.
• TurtleShroom would be honored and delighted to arrange international trade and exports of fine agricultural goods to Yellow Apple for the use amongst its people.
• TurtleShroom will not extradite domestic labor rioters to Yellow Apple.

God bless your kindness.
-HEADMASTER THICKENS

[TURTLESHROOM II]

To say the least, public opinion of the labor riots plummeted during Holy Week. Traditionally, all political movements and non-vital private sector organizations shut down on Good Friday and Easter Sunday (collectively, these are a national holiday), even if they were not Christian in nature or management.

As Good Friday dawned, most TurtleShroomers were astounded to see that many protestors refused to go home on Good Friday. Even Atheists, having no interest in Christ, took advantage of a day off to relax. Not so this time, however. This was initially dismissed as determination to the cause.

That's when Sunday came. They didn't go home.

No movement, no riot, and no altercation ever stayed outside on Easter Sunday. Even during the mass protests against King Slam in 1912 AD and the anti-Dark Harvest rallies in 2012 AD, no one had the guts to rally on Easter Sunday, for fear of damaging their public relations. To do so was a cultural taboo and an affront to even unbelieving TurtleShroomers.

Not wishing to be hypocrites, the attacks on the protestors were sparse during Easter Sunday. Business went as usal as the faithful TurtleShroomers went to church and the non-Christian TurtleShroomer faithful either debated the Christians or held their own services. Atheists and Deists alike slept in and relaxed on a peaceful day off. Then, as the Easter sun set and the day ended, TurtleShroomers spent their family time seething against the protestors who had refused to honor Easter Sunday.

The movement was denounced by the Christians as Godless, and denounced by unbelievers and the irreligious as unpatriotic. Urban protestors taking time off found themselves denied service at restaurants and stores, and even shut out of private bathrooms! Even Ashton Fish, a major ringleader in favor of the protests, refused to enage in activism on Easter Sunday. The anger only grew stronger as less public leaders refused to apologize.

It was on the Monday after Easter that the problems began. As TurtleShroomers headed back to the fields, the factories, and the company towns, they ran into protestors in their way. This had become routine, but it wasn't until now that the protestors apparently revealed their "true colors". Actions that once resulted in detours now had buses driving through throngs of protestors. At least three protestors in Barryburg alone were crushed for refusing to move out of the way of busses and freight trucks.

Pedestrians and creatures in train stations found themselves face-to-face with activists, who doggedly followed and blocked them from boarding transportation or crossing the street. Gunfire and tasers were used liberally on that day, as these nuisances turned into altercations and even physical abuse. Thousands were injured or shocked by the tasers, a handful were seriously wounded from bullet wounds in the legs or lower body (this wasn't a case for lethal force, after all), but one turtle died. Several cities called out the Riot Police to scatter protestors and civilians alike, only adding to the bitter tensions and anger.

The bitter resentment of TurtleShroomer society against these labor protestors was boiling, and could soon burst into counter-protesting riots as well. Captains of industry and the wealthy alike increasingly feared for their safety as both normal TurtleShroomers and protestors began to increasingly look into violence to deal with each other. These protests were soon framed by provocatuers in the media and the rumor mills as Godless, Marxist, hateful protests done entirely out of greed. They were partially correct, but no one disputed that truck system employees were compensated less than others.

There had been many scattered incidents of small scale violence and anger from both sides, but so far, no one had outright sparked a true uprising or riot. Yet. That was going to change eventually, though.

[The Incorporation and Gerry]

The Street of Many Fools, Gerry

“To this end, Zardoz your god gave you the gift of the gun!” the preacher cried, as he stood in the gate of the Mercatus Pantheon, as the crowd studiously ignored him, it was practically forbidden to preach here, for the Pantheon Market abutted the Street of a Million Gods, and was the home to endless suppliers of high quality ritualists, a confusing multi-tiered warren of bakers and clothiers, incense traders and craftsmen, the city had taken on a vivacious religious life since the C’tani had taken it over, as religions and cults from the world and beyond crowded to try and make their preaching felt in this enclave of the southern lands, for the natives were highly desired as converts; and needless to say, the established, majority-Christian religions of the south were there too, to stymie this tide. Genial rules prevailed, for the most part the respective pastors, priests, lectors and imams of the sundry sects had no desire to start clubbing one another, or trying to convert one another directly.

“The gun is good!” the preacher cried.

He was ignored. The thing with preaching to other preachers, was that they generally already had firm ideas. The market was patrolled by Sisters of Liberty in their formidable powered armour, helmets removed, as they stood watching the crowds. Upon their armour were pennants displaying facsimiles of their licences held on with sealing wax studs on their kurganova pattern light power armour, displaying their policing powers. They could not arrest a C’tani Citizen, or by tradition and treaty, a Menelmacari one, for the Great Civilization and Menelmacari regarded one another as cousins, though they could in principle act if they saw them actually committing a common law crime, but their power over the subject populations of the Incorporation and Gerry was considerable.

This paroxysm of fervour that gave the town so many cults also gave it the most unusual ecumenical culture. By the gate of the Pantheon Market were two unqiue social establishments, one was the Pagan Priests Pit Pub, ironically named, and opposite that, the Parochial Meeting Hall. The shopfront between them was one that sold custom pews for the sundry temples nearby.

The two communities (aside from Kvitekristians) didn’t do much alike, they had separate shops and suppliers, separate congregations, but they had a single common interest. Charity.
And today, the talk of the town in the shadow of the cult-preacher who waved an autogun high in the air and shook it back and forth, explaining its divinely un-jammable reciprocating loading mechanism and the simple elegance of its balanced forward barrel-weight that counteracted the corrugated insulex barrel shroud of perforated ceramite and formed a superbly sturdy bayonet lug and even allowed the barrel to be used as an improvised weapon without affecting the sighting in normal use. A techpriest nearby attempted to ignore the recognition of the perfect balance and excellent operating characteristics of the weapon, for although they could not be denied, it was no gift from the masked cultist’s god, but merely the work of human engineers.

“I’d pay real money if he’d shut up,” Magos Bly said, hunched over one of the tables that meandered closer to the Christian side of the street. He was not a Christian, but he was involved in charity, his sect believed that scientific knowledge was the key way of understanding the universe, and that it was therefore divine, regarding the sum of all knowledge as godhood, and the being that comprehended all scientific knowledge as a messianic figure, though within his church there were divisions as to who that would be, and whether knowledge from corrupt sources was a perversion or merely the sources themselves, more importantly, some groups believed that it was a sacred duty to share the fruits of scientific knowledge, and hence some were involved with charitable organizations.

"Well he won't, sadly," Sister Lenity said, picking up a cafetiere and pouring, "What do you think of this buinsess in the south?"

"Wholly unexceptional," he said, "I expect it will be settled within a year or so."

"Well, when you regulate people down to the minute, resistance is only natural..."