1912-1990 Era War IC (Semi-Closed)

[Newne Carriebean7]

Das Kapital Region
Presidential Palace
October 8th,1927

In the crowded room of military advisors and political leaders, President Rachlet Partenbré loomed over the updated strategic map with a face filled with venomous chagrin. The current situation was terrible. The Carriebeanian Government’s areas of control were divided into three main areas, the small section still held by the capital, steadily shrinking with discouraging losses of men and machinery.

Another round of heavy shelling swayed more lights up ahead, turning the party’s attention momentarily to the bombardment which shook the underground complex.
The other two pockets of government control were split from one another, with one being under the command of Chief of Staff 1st Class Elijah Vickers Sylvester and the other being headed by Chief of Staff 1st Class Edward Phelps. Sylvester was initially a Calvary officer during the 1870 war, loosing eyesight due to bucking off a horse into a sharp pile of rocks covered in manure. Given the unceremonious circumstances as to why he had lost his eye, the eye patched man would spin tales of being shot in battle. Phelps was a different creature, often timid and indecisive with his actions, being brought up as a rifle signaler which grew to tensun commander and eventually his current post.

“So… It appears our forces are encircled into three main parts. This is excellent. I Propose we prepare for a breakout operation titled Prince First. If we are able to combine all surviving forces, we’ve have a strength equal to 120,000 soldiers, 40,000 cavalry and over 300 guns. We can use this force to march on the capital to relive it and the surrounding areas, then fortify the capital until our Nihonian allies arrive!”

“President. If I may speak freely, this plan is terrible. It sounds alright on paper, but we have not 120,000 soldiers, or the forty thousand cavalry you speak of. We’d be lucky to scrounge up a third of the cannons you request. Many of the men and cavalry are still hungry and low on ammunition to fight with, despite the enforcement of cannibalism, rationing and conservation of ammunition. You’d have better luck with a pitchfork rather than with a rifle. At least you could fetch the pitchfork after use! I propose a different plan, surrender. The enemy promises to be lenient with their punishments and will probably assist us in rebuilding. Fighting will only bring more bloodshed and lead to more unnecessary deaths.”

President Rachlet Partenbré snapped with that statement. His face rapidly turned red before beginning to rave and rant, all directed towards his generals.
“Surrender? You men are true cowards! I brought forward this meeting in order to fully prepare for a response to changes on the battlefield, and you have proposed nothing short of treason. You’re opinions are noted, as you may speak your mind, but I must disagree with your conclusions. Even a third of the guns you say are still 100 cannons. Enough firepower to blast through the enemy lines to enable armed civilians to rush forwards and assault in hand to hand combat while the actual troops march on them! I know the capital is still under siege, but I have faith in a last hour bastion of hope! Allow me to educate you in the affairs of Carriebeanian Politics, in 1856, when Pope Talos’s armies marched on the capital, there was a divine intervention by the gods to show that they were on our side! They left heavy rains which flooded the fields and swept away the enemy armies! We can do that again if it just rains hard enough! The enemy will be stopped in the mud and we can charge out on horseback!”

“Sir, that was a chance of weather and there is little likelihood that it will rain that hard again, especially considering how dry it had been beforehand. You’re counting on your last trump card being mother nature?! You wish for the weather to change in order for us to assault the enemy and somehow win, despite low supplies and ammunition for such a fool’s errand?!”

“Mother Nature is the queen of the battlefield, we must rely on her for guidance in these dark times. I want this offensive launched immediately. Dismissed.”

Das Kapital Region
Front Lines

Carriebeanian Capital Defense Force President of the Lords Charles Xavier Young’s hand loomed ominously over the bottle of rum on a beer keg within a dug trench before his hand was slapped viciously by his aide.
“No more alcohol Young! It’s bad enough you’ve been drinking throughout this battle, now you want even more?! Little reason why we’re loosing if you’re this damned thirsty for some booze..”
“You, but… fine… Now how far are we up shit’s creek, and where’s the goddamned paddle?”
“Sir, we’re currently holding the regions of Das Kapital and Emperor’s Road within the capital itself. We’ve lost communications with our outside holdings and cannot make contact with them. Many of our carrier Pidgeon’s are being blown to smithereens along with much of our defenses.”
“Shit… Goddam, I knew it was bad, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. The Carriebeanian Air Force is dying bravely.” Young would chuckle at the notion of the now nonexistent Carriebeanian Air Force being complemented of carrier pigeons, if they hadn’t been shot out of the sky by hungry peasants or former slaves.
“How goes operation we’re loosing the war?” He would peer out using a telescope established at one of the observation notes. Unknown to him, an enemy sniper would hold his breath at the sight of a slight glint in his eyes, squeezing the trigger while breathing out, the bullet would soon leave the barrel and slam into the head of the commanding officer, killing Young instantly as he dropped to the floor hunched over from the telescope. The Carriebeanian Army within the sector of the front’s morale sunk lower and lower with the bloody loss of their commander, and in other parts of the front line, military results we’re being brutal.

The Eighteenth Infantry Tensun Commander Tarks Godfield’s unit was blown to smithereens while hiding among several dilapidated factories, while the Sixth Carriebeanian Radical Disun Commander Billards Montgomery Sheridan had his head cut off by a friendly whiff of grapeshot after rushing back to carriebeanian lines which comprised of a battery of napoleon cannons. The Carriebeanian Army units were loosing their commanders at an immense rate, with 678 commanders of units ranging from 100 strong to 20,000 strong being killed.

The average frontline soldier also suffered grievously, with enemy command of the air blasting debris and shrapnel towards carriebeanian soldiers, mortally wounding and killing hundreds instantly or within minutes. Those caught in the sights of enemy flamethrower units often spent their last fleeting moments screaming like banshees while set ablaze akin to a booze soaked cloth to a flame. Those screams had an unsettling effect on morale, with even the most battle hardened carriebeanian soldiers vomiting after smelling burnt flesh and their twitching comrades corpses on the floors.

The Overall design of the Capital City proved to be a great help to the Carriebeanian Defenses, with a mismatched maze of hobbled brick and granite structures dotting the roads, sometimes with shacks placed out front of several shops in a confusing blend. There were rotting wooden structures impossibly supporting heavy granite buildings for construction, with dainty wooden beams snappily connecting various structures akin to a new year’s dragon.

The shrapnel utilized by destroying buildings brought solace to the artillery crews, with more ammunition to spray down narrow alleyways at friend or foe that approached them. The number of corpses within the streets would make an ordinary man vomit at the seams, though Manticorian and Carriebeanian soldiers still would shoot the corpses a stern look before going back to the bloody business of killing each other for war.
There were small victories, such as when a Manticorian armored tank pushed through a failing Carriebeanian Structure, a collection of explosives and lit gunpowder stored above the building went off on top of the enemy vehicle turning it into a smoldering wreck that the enemy was forced to push out of the way in order to keep up their advance.

Carriebeanian carbine, machine gun and rifle fire kept up a somewhat inaccurate hail of ammunition onto the enemy, downing several while loosing hundreds to the score of enemy artillery and close fire weapons utilized. If a Carriebeanian man was able to secure Manticorian firepower, he would be invincible if he was going up against his allies, and about even footed when attacking their contemporary opponents which wielded the same guns.
The geography of the city was being utilized to the advantage of the defenders, with kill zones being set up with a weakened force luring the enemy into the zone before superior artillery at point blank range shot holes into enemy armor that was lured or sprayed hundreds of metal balls as canister shot sang out, mixed with the cries of the wounded and howls of the soon to be dead.
Still Carriebean was suffering losses it would be unable to replace, in comparison to their enemies, which received units fresh from their homeland, marching mostly just pestered by poorly organized guerrilla activities which served as a nuisance to shoo away, akin to a fly, rather than an actual threat to draw away men and materials from their final push on the capital.


While Carriebeanian forces were still violently fighting for every last inch, the impressed military units of slaves Carriebeanian casualties continued to climb and climb throughout the battle. Carriebeanian attempts to retaliate by killing Manticorian commanders resulted in disappointing results. Many Carriebeanian surviving field guns were completely coated in a new paint of blood, ranging from old brown blood to the newest bright cherry red in the case of recently deceased batteries.

The Carriebeanian ammunition for the colt revolving carbines was reaching such a dangerous low that the intensified firepower now slackened to a slow draw of the occasional shot. Carriebeanian infantrymen found themselves swapping out their defenders of the country for any option of surviving weapons, from captured enemy rifles, donated Nihonese bolt actions to one shot pistols, modified old canes to fire pump action bullets and even guns that shot out a sword or rocks on the ground as a shotgun in lieu of actual ammunition.

On the Front Line
Daar’s Sweets

Flanks General 3rd Class Barry Thurmond gripped his colt pistol tightly in one hand while peeking over some debris of crushed glass and twisted wooden beams from the enemy’s aireal bombardment. His eyes first scanned the skies before nodding his head to several armed old ladies next to him. Thurmond had once commanded a proud force of over five thousand strong in the area… what happened?
It seemed there was just a few bloody flashes of light and the smell of burning flesh practically jumping carriebeanian forces down to meet enemy machine guns which fed on their bodies. The stumbling retreat up the street a block cost over sixty percent of his already malnourished and starving starting force, horrible statistics to the pencil pushing individual, gut wrenching losses for a carriebeanian military leader. Many of the soldiers were not younger than 70, and so the years of poor diet and hip problems impeded their withdrawal which had cost them their lives.

Taking a sip of water, Thurmond set the tin down while rummaging through a large cheesecloth sack for more ammunition, finding enough ammunition to reload the colt revolving carbine he cradled like one would a newborn baby. The other Carriebeanian soldiers were stuck with an amalgamation of various firearms, with some carrying antiquated flint locks, muzzle loaders and bolt action rifles donated by the Nihon which still found a way to the now shrinking frontline.
He could thank the ingenious designs of his allies for such efforts, although the ammunition problem was even worse thanks to supply lines to the front ranging from shoddy at best to nonexistent at worst, forcing the men to scavenge the surrounding area and loot what supplies they could from dead soldiers or allied units within the frontline.

The unprofessionalism of such activities lead to bloody friendly fire incidents with dozens dead in the smallest statistic. Many of them had sparse communication and orders from the capital, with many units simply forming up to fight for their homes and church with little else tying them to a greater national identity. The enemy was able to exploit this with offers of fair treatment and even food for such allowances as surrenders.
Thurmond then turned to an updated map of the battle, with a small piece of paper denoting recent changes to the battlefield.
The Grande Opera House Bathrooms have fallen to the enemy! Optimistically looking forward to fighting tooth and nail for the actor’s dressing rooms! Should that fall, recommended course of action to charge the frontlines in an attempt to seize the auditorium with all remaining forces until annihilation or to surrender within the VIP offices.

Billard’s Hotel and Saloon’s First and Second Floors seized by the enemy’s movements! Currently holding off any attempt at taking the stairways and is preparing to dig in for the Lobby area. Rumored collection of wine and grenades within the cellar, preparing for strike team to get us some drinks and explosives. Enough Ammunition for two days sustained fighting, enough water for seven hours sustained fighting, will begin to bottle urine for consumption to increase morale.

The Montcalm Railway Station is being overrun by massed enemy armor, with little in the way of response by Carriebeanian artillery batteries owing to poor positioning. Suicidal squadrons currently charging on both horseback and with grenades to eliminate enemy armored assaults. Results are expected to be very high casualties with an undetermined outcome for the enemy tanks. Captured enemy vehicles and loaned Nihonian military craft have been ordered to withdraw.
“What should we do?” A thin voice called from the back of the sweet room, with makeshift cots for the dying soldiers being salvaged amongst the floor, though the wounded warriors would sleep on the tile or wood for a few hours until going back out to fight. It would be hard losing allies and comrades in the siege, but small chocolate substitutions were enough to prevent a major mutiny from the soldiers.
“We’re losing three buildings and our own forces are overstretched and suffering from heavy losses thanks to enemy flamethrowers and dive bombers. I have no official command for many frontline units and have steadfastly refused barking commands from mad junior officers jumpy at the lack of a military hierarchy."

“I’m sure the great general will think of something.” A familiar voice chimed in the back optimistically.
“Julius. Front and Center.”
An elderly looking man wielding a cane and a dropping thick white beard hobbled out from a wheelchair, often used to swindle good Samaritans into desperately needed prostitution, drinking and gambling money. His morals may be a poor mishmash, but his optimism was almost infectious to the ranks. He kept promising there being drinking water, despite it running out two weeks ago. When a small pound of freshwater was discovered in the ruins of an elderly school, Julius would exclaim that it was god’s work. The Irony that one of the most immoral men was a devout (if opportunistic) Christian at the same time was not lost on Thurmond as he looked Julius in the eye.
“Sir!”
“Julis Rommel, I would like your advice-“
“My advice? What fucking mother did you slap for this series of unfortunate events to occur? The sky fall?! I shall be your royal appointment and grand viser, your highness.” He mocked, half bowing in jest.
“Your advice…” Thurmond continued without so much as a second glance up from his papers “on matters regarding the recent military news which has befallen Carriebean.”
“This news?” Rommel looked confused before peering over several papers on the commander’s desk before smirking with an enlightened look “Ah… this news.. really got yourself up shit creek without a paddle here Thury.. I cannot imagine how you fucked this up, but… you did! Imma give you a trophy just for that.”

“I’ve been patient with your, sense of humor. But this time I must be more strict. You are to be appointed Protector of the Church by ordinance of the Council of Vendee. See to your assignment.”
With a stiff salute, Julius yanked on his own rifle and utilized it as a crutch while walking to his new post, muttering under his breath “Damn Vagabond’s loosing the war.”
The sharp crack of a carbine soon brought Julius to the floor, as he was attempting to reorient himself to the muzzle of a double barrled shotgun aimed between his eyes. There was a click as both hammers were primed for firing, causing Julius to flinch and squint before being fearful for his life. He was almost on the verge of tears before a calm voice said.
“That’s Enough Lanc.”
Soon the shotgun got out of his vison as he was then helped up to his feet, being thrown a few personal items before a stern look from the commander tossed him out of the tent.

Montcalm Railway Station

Tank Captain Beth Hood fit the ninety millimeter shell into the breech of the De bange 90mm Cannon which was hastily slapped together for a makeshift armored coffin. The four men behind her rowed back and forth to give power for such a poorly sealed fighting vehicle. It had been eleven hours since last orders from headquarters and ten hours since her last meal. Hood’s stomach would have been an alarming problem, if there was not a war raging around her. The former sower turned soldier depressed the barrel of the cannon a few degrees as the machine clambered to a halt.
“Take Aim!”
She then rotated the gun as far as she could towards an enemy armored car, it speeding through with machine guns lighting up akin to fireflies in the wooded night sky on a plantation. She held her breath, mind racing with various ideas as she collected herself and gave the order to the gun crew.
“Fire!”
The shell screamed down towards the armored car, flying further and further until…
BANG
A massive cloud of debris flew into the air, obscuring the sight for a moment before the shadow of the enemy’s vehicle was enough for a mild swear.
“Oh Right Piss as rain and crackers, load another shell and reverse!”
With the enemy vehicle attempting to close the distance, she needed to reverse the makeshift vehicle as fast as the hand cranks could, first inching the tank back, then footing the tank back little by little as she stumbled with another round. The projectile met the floor a few times, echoing off the hollow walls before slamming into the breech. With a split second on the sight, she gave the order.
“Fire!”
This time, Carriebeanian artillery flew true, slamming into the engine of the armored car, exploding it with shrapnel and shell fragments everywhere.
“Good Work, Withdraw immediately towards headquarters for a refit!”
“Refit?-Commander, We are in good enough of shape to fight more.”
“But, you see, we’ve only got five shells left. We started out with forty. We’ll need more ammunition and a fresh crew if we’d want to fight.”
“Yes M’am. Turn the tank about 180 degrees!”
With an awkward salute of their superior officer, the armored behemoth slowly got underway in reverse before coming sharply to a stop. The tank then moved forwards left in a wide circle to completely turn around, with her colt carbines blasting away from slits mounted along her walls as a partial infantry fighting vehicle. Soon the rotation was completed as the armored tank began to withdraw back to the reserve lines, indicated with the quiet sound of less gunshots and distant explosions.

Alva

Flanks General 1st Class Wilhelmina Lorraine fit the cigarette snugly in her mouth before striking a match and shakily bringing it up to the tobacco laden product, producing a bright glow on one end before she stomped on the match to snuff it out.
Inhaling deeply, she would then yank the cigarette out of her mouth to blow a cloud of smoke in the air of the decrepit looking building. The rotting structure had taken a direct hit early in the battle owing to Carriebeanian boobytraps of children in the street. It wasn’t her proudest moment in sending children off to be traps, but it allowed a brief strategic advantage in the confusion to actually repel the enemy from taking the headquarters.
The success would be short lived, with large enemy assaults slowly whittling away at the Carriebeanian reserves to plug the gaps in various points in the line throughout the city. Her total force numbered at most 29,000 soldiers, 4,000 dragoons as a calvary/messaging unit, at most thirty field guns sprinkled about haphazardly. The Carriebeanian Forces still controlled the main arsenal building, though they had lost the telegraph station, the main marketplace which dominated the center and were still bitterly fighting for every shelf in the library. Lorraine herself was forced to withdraw with her personal bodyguard eleven times as the Carriebeanian area controlled by Carriebean shrank smaller and smaller. The Carriebeanian forces still subsisted on the few locals in the area that had “donated themselves willingly”

“I understand the library is still the scene of bloody carnage?”
“Yes M’am. The Fifty Seventh Tensun has just been relived by the Ninth Tensun.”
“57th, how many men are left?”
“9.”
Lorraine dropped another cigarette down her throat and choked briefly before repeating the number.
“9?! That unit has a thousand men in it! You don’t mean…”
A grimace soon crossed the military aide’s face before a sunken look appeared on Lorraine’s.
“I have just sent 991 men to their graves. If I am to survive this battle, I want to be held accountable for my actions.”
“M’am, this war is one of attrition that we will not be able to win. These losses are simply unsustainable in the long run. We will be able to give the enemy a nasty paper cut and be able to pour lemon juice on it as the best scenario for what we have left, but it will be at the cost of being ripped to shreds, with each and every cell being annihilated in the corpse known as Carriebean.”

Lorraine refused to look at the aide, staring down at her map of the limited space the city controlled before stating.
“War is hell. I guess we shall fight on. Double servings of shit for the men tonight, we launch a shattered crystal at night.”
“M’am! I must object to this waste of lives! It will accomplish nothing! I implore you to surrender!”
“Surrender? That is not a word I know. My horse!”
After several exhaustive hours which had worn down Carriebeanian Forces for the worse, the fighting died down, with only the faint screams of Carriebeanian wounded being heard as Carriebeanian military police fired bullets into their brains for deserting their posts. With rings around her eyes, Lorraine turned to her second in command.
“Charge! Long Live Carriebean! Death to Hoosier! May our deaths be sweet!”

The words echoed off of every man’s ear as the force charged forwards, down some alleyways, narrow corridors, the parts of decrepit and shelled out buildings and some rotting farms. Carriebeanian waves broke on the shores of Hoosier machine gun, artillery, rifle and submachine ammunition being hurtled at them, with hundred being mowed down, and yet they still came. Carriebeanian carbines and Nihonese rifles boomed with a mostly inaccurate return fire while cutlasses and samurai swords glistened forwards.

The closest a force got was a small force that had been cut off and encircled in the confusion, being able to assist eighty besieged carriebeanian citizens who fled to the rear for shit cakes still baking from the running cooks. Lorraine herself was in the midst of the battle, cutting down a Hoosier infantryman with a slash of her sword while running the blade through another enemy. She soon collapsed off of her horse as it was shot out from under her.

“Damn! Any of you want to see how a Carriebeanian General meets her end? Come and get me you sons of bitches!”
She pulled out her revolver and shot a shoulder of an enemy soldier, shuddering the man on the ground before a riddle of bullets impacted her. Dropping to the ground with blood pouring out of her mouth, she simply stood in disbelief before dying. The Carriebeanian offensive had predictably failed.

The Carriebeanian casualties were in the thousands with this one assault, with an unknown number of enemy dead. Alva had fallen to the enemy, with the Carriebeanian tricolor being snapped off the government building and replaced with a Hoosier banner flapping proudly in the wind.

[Breyburg]

October 14th, 1927
Carriebeanian Warzone, Southeastern Indianum

Closure

The second Breyburg-Carriebean War has ended, bringing an end to all brawling and skirmishing within the land between Breyburgian, Manticoran, Hoosier and Carriebeanian forces.

The Socialist Allied States of Breyburg annexed the whole region of Landstreicher and Iron Guard Hoosier annexed Brasberge. Carriebean is now a city state.

The region of Landstreicher has been sold to Iron Guard Hoosier for 850,000,000 Collans in exchange for a port on the Brasberge coast. This purchase will greatly help the deficit caused by the increased militarization authorized by President Martin Harvey.

Again, the Indianum Front prevails.

The land seizure by the Indianum Front.

[The Hoosier Alliance]

With the Carribean being defeated and occupied by Hoosier and it's allies, the deal crafted between the Indianum Front allies could go into effect. Hoosier made the payment to Breyburg, and began transferring occupation of the Hoosier held port of Alva to Breyburg, and began to take on the occupational duties of Breyburg held regions in Newne Carribean. The Hoosier military would take over the administration duties in the newly occupied regions of Carribean, and began to institute reform and relief immediately.

Many within the former Carribean military were pardoned of their actions against Iron Guard Hoosier, once they took a pledge to never take up arms against Hoosier again, and were sent back to their lives as civilians. The reasoning was that, since the nation was constantly in a state of poverty and post-war shortages of manpower and labor, it was seen as a good idea to release as many of the people back into society as possible, considering it was very likely that they wouldn't take up arms again, due to their wide spread war weariness.

Shipments of food, water, and medical supplies began to pour into the country and was handed out freely while the new military administration developed and rolled out new reforms to local agricultural practices. Modern farming practices and equipment were brought to the former Carribean states in order to stabilize the food problems in the new territories. The currency was also being stabilized, with an attempt to end the hyper inflation in the country while maintaining the Carribean currency in the new occupied lands. The economic reform being instituted was meant to stabilize the economy and provide relief to the poverty stricken Carribean people.

Infrastructure improvements were developed, and within the coming weeks, massive programs meant to get Carribeans back to work were instituted, while improving the poorly planned and sparse infrastructure so trade and business could be conducted better throughout the region. Educational reform was also promised, with new schools being built, new educational standards (new to the Carribeans, anyway) were brought in, and educated people arrived within the coming months to help educate the people. Airports and military bases were also planned to be built over time in order to help facilitate supply and troop arrivals.

The occupation was going very well, with few resisting the Hoosier relief efforts. Military tribunals were set up to administer justice in the territories and prosecute mass murderers and other criminals, especially those that committed those crimes against their own people.

With the occupation fulfilled and power transferring to the Hoosier government, additional soldiers were brought in to help rebuild the country and maintain control of the region. All together, ten infantry divisions were deployed in the region to protect and rebuild the country.

Since September, eight infantry and three armored divisions have been put into active service since their training was completed, and the other divisions are set to deploy in December once their training was completed.

[TENNOHEIKA BANZAI NIHON]

Imperial Palace/Imperial Diet
Gokyo, Nihon
January 1928

Soon after the Emperor and the Diet found out from the embassy for the fake news stories being distributed in Manticore, it was decided to step up the game a bit. The state owned news publications, and all other news sources supportive of the Empire, which seeing as though the Kenpeitai and Tokko had eliminated the 'dangerous thoughts' of some news sources, it was all the news spreading slightly false headlines. They included: Thousands Raped by Manticorian Troops in Carriebean; Millions Dead After Manticorian Troops Massacre Carriebean; Kenpeitai Discovers Manticorian Plot to Bomb Manchuko; Manticore Confirmed as Sponsor of Aydinirian Pirates; Aydinirian Pirates Attack Western League Vessels. Other stories were supportive of Nihon and allies: Major Nihonese-Warglorian Victory Over Aydinir's Pirates; Hopes of Peaceful Relation with Ruskland in Sight; Western League Allies Crush Rannoria Opposition. And there were stories, that were complete gossip: MANTICORIAN QUEEN CATHERINE CONFIRMED BISEXUAL; Aydinir Princess Sickened Father to Gain Power; Hoosier on Verge of Coup; Breyburg Turning Communist?; Rachana Military in Shambles of Former Self. Yet all outrageous titles would be sold, and it would only reinforce public opinion, and give those Manticorians a taste of their own medicine. It would be sent over the radios to millions. This was one more step, to readying the population to do as wished by their divine Emperor, Hirohtio.

Elsewhere, a treaty was being presented to the Rusklandr Embassy in Nihon, and displayed as follows;

Treaty Concerning Sale of Nihonese Hallfurt and Opus to the Confederacy of Ruskland

As agreed upon by the powers of the Confederacy of Ruskland and the Nihonese Empire, the following are the terms for the Treaty Concerning Sale of Nihonese Hallfurt and Opus to the Confederacy of Ruskland:

1. The Empire of Nihon will sell the territories of Hallfurt and Opus to the Confederacy of Ruskland.
1a) Let it be known with this sale, Nihonese ships are allowed to dock in Rusklandr ports of the territory currently known as Hallfurt, should it be occupied by at minimum three capital ships.
1b) Listed in Condition 3 of the Treaty, the Confederacy of Ruskland will assist and remove all Nihonese Forces and citizens from Opus.
1c) No harm by officials of the Confederacy of Ruskland is to come to Nihonese citizens that choose to stay in Opus or Hallfurt and will result in immediately ending the non aggression pact.
2. The Confederacy of Ruskland shall in return give ownership of the Ironton Isles to the Empire of Nihon, and pay 6.8 billion Aclusian Pounds over the course of 8 years.
2a)Should the said amount fail to be paid, it will result in potential military action and other measures.
2b) The Confederacy of Ruskland shall be allowed to deploy troops and dock ships in the Ironton should there be enough space and at minimum each port must have no less than 3 capital ships.
2c) Harm by officials of the Nihonese Empire to Rusklandr citizens will result in immediately ending the non aggression pact, and Rusklandr citizens shall be assisted in leave, should they choose to leave.
3) The Confederacy of Ruskland shall assist and remove all Nihonese Forces and their equipment from what is currently called Opus.
4)The Confederacy of Ruskland and the Empire of Nihon shall agree to a 10 year long non aggression pact, which can be voided by all reasons listed above and what is considered aggressive military actions.
4a) Any future military cooperation is supported.
4b) All parties have the right to void the non aggression pact should their claim against the other have been properly investigated by a third party or the ICS.

Signed, Emperor Hirohito
Prime Minister Naruki Hashimoto

Once the treaty was signed, Nihonese forces in Hallfurt would depart for Shishiri, where they would either remain garrisoned, or be send back to Nihon.

Indianum Straits
January 1928

The Nihonese 5th Fleet was currently running concrete convoy operations and a few cruisers of the 2nd Fleet had already joined them in hunting down pirate vessels that strayed too far out of Aydinir waters. Surely the Aydinirians were not happy of such a presence just a few miles outside their waters, but they could not do anything about it, as they were in international waters and were quite equipped for battle. Warglorian forces had started to join them, and there was a build up in Nihon of their vessels that were to be sent to secure the region. So far the Warglorian navy had been very successful, with no pirate ship able to match their advanced systems.

Capital Building
Changchun, Manchuko
January 1928

Investigators were being readied to pursue the case as they waited for their ICS counterparts to arrive. But lurking in the shadows were Yakuza members there on orders of the Black Dragon Society, ready to carry out their wishes in order the make sure the investigation was 'successful.'

Nihonese Embassy
Arengin Union
January 1928

The telephone rung, and an aide scurried to pick it up. It was from an Imperial Guardsman in the ICS building. He rushed to the Ambassador, and said, "It is for you sir". The Ambassador listened carefully, and got up from his desk and made his way over to security. All he said to the Kenpeitai man was "Call for a society meeting."

An hour later an unknowing aide came to a dark ally and left a note with a man who was lurking in the shadows. This man, known only as 'Shinobi' made his way to the a warehouse hear the docks of this great city. He handed the contents to the Yakuza leader in the city and then left without a trace. And as soon as the note was read, the plan was being readied to go down.

[The Hoosier Alliance]

A light, cold rain, fell on the heads of the two men as they walked through the streets of Ontario, in the Aclusian colony of Canada. They walked near the shore, passing various buildings, the majority of which were shipyards, building the vessels of the mighty Aclusian Royal Navy and merchant fleet. However, the ships themselves were not the target of the men. As they walked, they paid close attention to the names and such on the large buildings they passed, looking for one in particular. The streets weren't particularly busy, but the occasional truck or car drove by, and a handful of people milled about outside, though many remained in doors, either because of their work inside, or because the rain encouraged them to remain in.

After several minutes of walking, the two men found what they were looking for, one of the several buildings for the Ontario Shipworks Company. They briefly looked at each other before in. The inside of the building was busy with activity. Men went all around, gathering parts with their machines and taking them outside to the construction site. The two strangers looked around, picking the breakroom out in an instant. It was on their right with a large window showing into the room. No one seemed to notice the two men who blended in well with the others in the building.

As the two men came to the breakroom, the paused just short of the window, peering in. They saw three men sitting around a table and talking amongst themselves, drinking their coffee, and laughing. After a minute or so, one of them pointed to the clock and all three stood up. Two headed out, but the third was busy washing out his mug. As the two exited the room and headed left for the ship building, the two strange men entered the breakroom. One closed the blinds on the window while the other locked the door. The sounds of the men entering drew the attention of the Aclusian and he turned to face them.

Before he could get a word out, the men silenced him. "Hello, William Brixton," one of the men began, with an undisguised Hoosier accent, "We've been looking for you."

Brixton frowned as he reached behind him, placing his hand on his revolver in his waistband, "Hell the 'ell are you?" He said, slowly. "I," the other man said, "am Howard Stover. This is my...associate, Dewey Delcambre. We are both Hoosiers, and we've heard a lot about your...communist agitation."

Brixton grabbed the grip of his revolver tightly, ready to pull it out and begin shooting. "So," he said, slowly, his eyes darting back and forth between the foreigners, "The IGP has come to silence me? Killing foreign communists are we? Well, I won't go-"

"Sir, you misunderstand." Brixton's grip on his weapon relaxed. "We're not here to silence you, nor are we IGP. In fact, we're members of the underground Hoosier Communist Party."

The Aclusian let go of his weapon completely and said, "Really now?"

The men nodded in the affirmative. Then they began to explain the reason for their visit. "We've heard a lot about you, dear sir. About how you've been able to gather quite the support in the colonies here for your cause. We're here to help."

"Why would a Hoosier help an Aclusian?" Brixton asked, suspicious.

"Because," Stover said, "In Hoosier, we have little support for our cause. The fascists keep us from spreading our message. If we help you with your struggle, then a friendly neighbor would surely be able to help us with ours."

Delcambre nodded, "Yes, our struggle is the same. We both are trying to liberate the workers of our nations from an oppressive elite class controlled by the wealthy few. We both know that in order for a society to be truly free, we must abolish the wealthy class and free the workers of their chains."

Brixton was intrigued by this. "How exactly do you plan on supporting me and my cause?"

"Well," Stover said, "We can smuggle you large quantities of weapons. Not only that, but we have several former Hoosier officers within our ranks, and can help you plan your workers' uprising when the moment comes."

Brixton was silent for a moment, considering his options. Eventually, he said, "I accept your support, comrades. I'm not so sure about letting you in on our planning, but I will gladly take weapons. We are in dire need of them."

The two men smiled, "Good. We'll get into contact with you soon, let you know where the trade off will be. We must leave now, before we draw too much attention."

The men said their hasty goodbyes and the two Hoosiers left, climbing into their car, and heading out of the city. An hour away, in a small town, the two men returned to their room in a small inn. Inside the secure room, they waited for their contact. Within the hour, the code knock and word they were waiting for was heard, and they let the man in. The three men, all Hoosiers, took their seats around a small table and began to discuss their assignments.

"We found our man," Stover said, "He's agreed to accept arms from us, but isn't to the point of trusting us to help plan the uprising. Not yet, anyway."

"Good work, Collazo," the third, new man, said to his counterpart, dropping the act and referring to the two men by their real names. "What about you, Jackson? Anything else to report?"

'Dewey Delcambre', or Robert Jackson, his real name, responded, "He fully believes we're communists as well. I don't think he suspects a thing. It made me want to puke, but I think we passed ourselves off as commie bastards pretty well.

The third man, who was an Iron Shirt agent like the other two, smiled. "Good work, gentlemen. Tomorrow we'll return home and give our report. Things are going well so far, let's not fuck it up, shall we?"



Elsewhere, in Breyburg, Hoosier Iron Shirts were making contact with members of the Breyburg Communist Party, a group that barely held any influence in the country. They were informed by the Iron Shirts, who were posing as communists, about the 'comrades' in the Aclusian colony that needed their support to 'free the workers of the world'. After several hours of negotiation, the Breyburg communists were convinced to provide arms to the Aclusians, with the hope that the three foreign communist cells would provide further support for each other down the road.

[Breyburg]

Melva, Hettausa, Breyburg
January 14th, 1928

"Freedom For Hettausa!"

There the Breyburgian delegate sat, Ellis Richardson, in the halls of the once-was capital of the Sirvanskan dominion of Hettausa; Melva Hall. Negotiations were being made for the independence of Hettausa. The people of Hettausa had been advocating for independence ever since the seizure of the region by the Socialist Allied States. The region had been whittled down to a fraction of its former glory, similarly to how their kingdom had been whittled down to non-existence. This independence was the first shimmer of hope for Hettausans and Sirvanskans alike. Self determination. No interference.

Ellis Richardson, Ambassador to the SRH

The group responsible for the Sirvanskan Independence effort was the Varietist Party of Hettausa (VPH). They pushed for Varietism to be the form of government this new nation would have, and they won, campaigning across war torn countryside and towns; telling them that they can start anew with the governments help, that they can have a new life full of full stomachs and infrastructure. The tired and exhausted Hettausan people gladly accepted Varietism as it gave them a second chance to live again.

Today, January 14th of the year 1928, the Socialist Republic of Hettausa was to be formed, hoping to reinstall the old sense of Sirvanskan and Hettausan culture, hoping to bring peace to a until recently chaotic land, hoping to return the people’s former lives.

Richardson signed the document declaring the ceding of Hettausa to the VHP. Then the leader of the VHP, Miran Uvarov signed the document as well. The document was held by both men, displaying it to Hettausan reporters who promptly took their photos. Then, the newly designed flag of the Socialist Republic of Hettausa (SRH) was held in the air both men. Chants of “Freedom For Hettausa!” began to resound within the halls and the streets of Melva. T’was a glorious day for Hettausa, glorious indeed.

The flag of the Socialist Republic of Hettausa, the 10 pointed star is a symbol of Varietism

Miran Uvarov, Leader of the VHP and President of the SRH

Melvan citizens celebrating the newly formed SRH

[The Hoosier Alliance]

Southern Aryshtakova
Early 1928
For several months, elements from the Hoosier Army have been operating within the annexed state of Aryshtakova, fighting to put down the small, but constant, insurrection against the new Iron Guard rulers. The Army has had much success with clearing out local fighters’ weapons caches, hideouts, and protecting local assets. Still, supply lines were being hit and the insurgents were an annoyance at best, a threat to the state’s stability at worst.

The fighting had been subdued in the majority of the state, especially near the new railroads and highways that had been built to connect the region internally, as well as with the rest of Hoosier. However, a few cells continued to fight in the fringes of the Aryshtakova, and Hoosier soldiers were dispatched accordingly.

In the south eastern portion of Aryshtakova, bordering the newly independent Hettausa, the Hoosier battalion charged with protecting the area found itself under constant threat of hit-and-run attacks from the Sirvanskan separatists. One of their companies, ordered to sweep and clear a cluster of villages and hamlets, was spread out and pinned down by large numbers of insurgents, far more than intelligence promised. The one hundred fifty odd men were holding off in pockets, separated from one another The majority of the Hoosiers were dug in, taking cover inside buildings, and returning fire with their rifles and LMGs. Luckily, their lieutenant colonel had been prepared, and was waiting for the call for support from his men. Once the call was received, he rode out with the rest of his battalion.

The majority of them were on horseback, while a few platoons were lucky enough to be transported by truck. Several armored vehicles also accompanied them on their way to battle.

Insurgents had swarmed the villages in which the Hoosier company found itself trapped in, and hoped to deal as much damage to them as possible before support arrived. However, the locals had not prepared for the speedy response of the battalion.

As the Sirvanskans attempted to overwhelm the Hoosiers, many turned to see a great galloping horde of mounted Hoosiers, shouting and whooping as they crested the sand dune and let vollys fly. They stormed the town, finding their trapped brothers in arms, and fought off the insurgents. Men chased down fleeing separatists with sabres and clubs, while others shot them down from their mounts. One group of Sirvankans nearly made it out through the eastern road, but were quickly cut down by the machine gun fire of the approaching armored car column.

Within minutes, the villages were secured, the Hoosier company saved, and the men cheered and fired their rifles into the air in celebration, terrifying the cowering local villagers. As the lieutenant colonel of the battalion smiled to himself, watching his men from the top of the dune overlooking the village, his eyes were diverted to something to the south of the village, once one of his men pointed it out to him. Bringing his binoculars up, he could clearly make out the fleeing insurgents that had managed to flee the righteous massacre. He cursed under his breath before shouting orders to prepare the men to give chase. He wasn’t about to let those bastards get away that easily.

Half an hour later, near the Aryshtakovan-Hettausa border
The lieutenant colonel had been hot on the insurgents’ tail for the past half an hour or so, their horse tracks making it easy to follow them. The fleeing enemies had crossed the border into the newly “independent” Hettausa, where they were suspected to have been operating out of since Breyburg occupied it some time ago. However, with it belonging to an ally, no Hoosier officer dared cross the border and cause a possible international incident. Now, however, a weak local government was supposed to be in control, thus making the repercussions for the crossing minimal.

So, the Hoosier battalion was near the Hettausa town, where the lieutenant colonel had seen the rear of the fleeing group of thirty or so insurgents enter. He turned his horse around and trotted back to his men, dismounting and summoning his waiting captains. Giving them their orders quickly, he sent Able and Baker companies to surround the town, to prevent another escape, while Charlie and Dog companies would enter the town and find, then arrest, the insurgents. Acting quickly, the mounted soldiers burst from their hidden positions and charged toward the town, whooping and hollering the whole way.

When the lieutenant colonel had last examined the village, several people had been milling about outside, talking and whatnot, while children played near the road. Now, before the Hoosiers had even began their charge, everything had gone eerily quiet. As the first Hoosiers round the corner and entered the town, they were met with several rifles poking out from behind cars, store windows, and anything else that could act as cover.

Several Hoosiers went down as they returned fire, quickly scattering the Sirvanskan rebels and chasing them down, ending their campaign against Hoosier. As the two companies assaulted the town, the lieutenant colonel brought up the rear to observe the attack. The Hoosier soldiers ploughed through the hastily erected defenses and slaughtered all that raised a rifle to the Hoosier Army. IGP casualties were light, almost non-existent, while not a single rebel was able to escape, regardless of attempts to surrender.

As he slowly trotted down the dirt road, a look of pride and accomplishment on his face, he turned to find the source of the crying off to his right. In an alleyway, hunched over a body, was a woman. She cried over the man’s corpse, and as the lieutenant colonel rode closer, she shrank away in fear, before running way, fearing for her life. He paid close attention to the body as he near, and upon his close inspection, he realized his mistake.

While it was true the rebels had taken refuge in the town, the majority of the defenders were not the rebels he had been chasing. Most were regular townsfolk, no doubt terrified by the approaching Hoosiers. While the lieutenant colonel had expected the townspeople to fight back, he had thought they would have been insurgents. However, due to the way they were dressed, the overall lack of organization, and none of the usual clothing to hide their identities, the Hoosier officer concluded they were regular people, with no ties to the insurgents. While some, or perhaps even many, had actively supported the rebels, most likely did not, and fought only to defend themselves in a misunderstanding.

Even though the officer realized his mistake, it was too late. Every man carrying a rifle was shot dead by the Hoosier cavalry. The officer rode slowly passed all the death, silently counting the bodies. At least sixty-four lay dead, though the officer found solace in the fact that the thirty Aryshtakovan separatists were among them. Through the silence of the town, other than the cheering Hoosiers, the lieutenant colonel heard the report of half a dozen rifles, and many cries of dismay.

The officer rode as fast as he could, rounding the corner and coming face to face with the aftermath of a firing squad. One sergeant had apparently taken it upon himself to line up six captured townsmen, line them up against a brick wall of a store, and have them all shot.

The lieutenant colonel dismounted and walked over to the smiling sergeant, who’s face went pale at the sight of the angered superior. Several women and children cried, hugging and sobbing over the bodies of their deceased friends and family members.

The officer slapped the sergeant and demanded, “What the fuck have you done here, boy?” The sergeant looked shocked and stammered, “M-m-m-makin-g-g an example.” The officer smacked the sergeant again, “An example? Of what? What example could you possibly make?” The sergeant cleared his throat, “I...I...I...to make sure they wouldn’t fight back again. Fight against Hoosier.” The officer smacked the sergeant yet again, “All you have done is put a lasting hatred in the hearts of these poor children. Something they will never forget, you fool. Take you men and return to the rear.” He gave him a final smack before sending him on his way.

The lieutenant colonel shook his head before he turned around to see the source of the sudden, blood curdling scream. A woman, who had been crying over her dead husband, stood, raising his concealed pistol she took from his coat. Before she could fire, the officer pulled out his own weapon, a revolver, and fired, killing the woman.

Sixty-five, he thought to himself as he mounted his horse. “Come,” he said, turning around and leaving the group of grieving civilians, “We need to leave before the local army comes and we’re forced to slaughter more of these poor people.”

[Aclus]

Snip

[Arengin Union]

St. Osloverg, Building of the International Council of States.

---

The First Session of the International Council of States was commencing, hosted at none other but its established base at St. Osloverg. The day was a busy one as there was a lot to get done with, the reports were coming in and the session room was being filled with the various Nation's representatives all eager (or not) to witness the first day of this Council. Arenginian diplomat, Dimitri Nevski had been picked to be the first ever Chancellor of this Council as as such was first to open up the debating session. Vice Chancellor Eugen Otto of Wargloria sat on the podium beside Nevski himself, the Arenginian's seat much higher than the Warglorians.

Aclusian Diplomat Sir Nevile Henderson took a sip from his nearby cup of tea, today was a cold day in St. Osloverg, but quite a important one too. For Nevile himself, today was as exciting as watching the races, seeing all the fellow diplomats of the world gather. Created a sense of excitement, a feeling of importance. As the Arenginian chancellor Dimitri Nevski walked up to the high podium facing his fellow diplomats, he began the rally.

"I welcome all members of this Council onto our first session. I trust all of you have read the reports on the global events we face today and I hope for a speedy first session." Nevski then commenced the session with a simple slam of a wooden hammer.

Nihonese Prince Nobuhito followed by two members of the Nihonese Imperial Guard entered the room as other diplomats filled in and took his seat. Today would be quite an important one, and a good chance to help finally solve the Indianum crisis. He wished his older brother was here, Crown Prince Yasuhito, a much better diplomat, but alas, he was now far too important and currently acting at the embassy in Aclus. He watched as Arengin Chancellor Dimitri Nevski began the first session, and hoped there would be a chance to bring up the Indianum tensions due to Central Alliance aggression and piracy worries.

The Manticoran Delegate, Roger Ailes, the 3rd Earl of New Sussex, sat in his chair, watching the other representatives carefully. The Empire was making moves in the political arena, seeking agreements with Skarten, Aclus, and Arengin as well as hoping to solidify the recent Central Alliance. It was Ailes immediate goal was to ensure the Assembly curbed Nihonese aggression in Indianum.

Grant Moore, the Hoosier Delegate, took his seat as the Aregin welcomed all the delegates from the various nations. He was instructed, by the Marshal himself, to ensure Hoosier solidified relations with the other CA nations, Manticore in particular, and to do everything possible to see the curbing of Nihonese aggression.

Soon, with all delegates now in attendance, Nevski began looking through his various notes, there was a shirt silence until the High Chancellor spoke.

"Today's most pressing issues are as follow. The multiple disputes embroiling Indianum, Extremists radicals raising arms in the sovereign Aclus, and piracy plaguing the eastern Seas." Nevski once more looked through his notes, he was an aging man to say the least, if anything he had been granted this role for his experience as well as his last assignment before finally retiring. The Arenginian diplomat struggled yo read the noted as he closed his spectacles onto the writings, then he continued.

"In accordance with the rules of the Chamber, we shall discuss first the Indianum Disputes. I so declare that the Arenginian delegation seconds whomever wishes to speak first."

The Breyburgian delegate, Richard McCalllum, stood up and began to address the assembly.

“The Socialist Allied States Of Breyburg believes in the sovereignty of the nations of Indianum, mind you, that is our reason for the creation of the Indianum Alliance. For the 5 years it lasted, it brought safety and stability to our continent. It protected its nations against outside threats, and protected against inside ones. This is what it was meant to do. And it did it well, but certain members within the alliance believed that it should be pushed in.. other directions. This, we could not stand for. So, our Allied States left the alliance along with Iron Guard Hoosier. Our two nations formed the Indianum Front, and we wish that other nations will follow suit. I believe that the only way for the Indianum Disputes to be resolved is for the continued sovereignty of the Indianum nations, with some intervention and help from outside nations and alliances, such as the Central Alliance and the ICS. The Indianum nations must be given the right to decide its own fate, but occasionally moderated as the international scene sees fit; as should go for the other nations of the world. For the world to stay in the balance, it must moderate itself.” Richard spoke from his heart and sat back down.

After the Breyburgian delegate had begun to speak on the issues in Indianum, the Aclusian diplomat Nivele Henderson stood right after him to make clear on the matter, for the Aclusian empire had interests in the said continent.

"To quickly add to this, the Aclusian Raj is independent to that of the other Indianum nations, thus not affected by said issues." Nivele then turned to the other seating diplomats.

"As for other nations on the continent of Indianum, the Aclusian Empire accepts their recognization of sovereignty" Nivele then sat back down on his seat.

Prince Nobuhito stood after the Aclusian delegate had spoken. He began to address the assembly.

"The glorious Empire of Nihon recognizes the sovereignty of all the Indianum nations except for that of an illegitimate, anarchist territory known as the Parsa. I would like to remind everyone, the reason of this issue was the anarchist attack on the Manchuko capital, led by peoples of Parsa origin, and supported with arms and money from Aydinir, Manticore, Breyburg, and Hoosier. Rachana may be involved in supporting these anarchist, but seeing as though they are in conflict, this is unlikely. We have encouraged an international investigation into the incident, and we feel that lack of concern led to our pleas being ignored, and the case to grow cold. A case should be reopened, with international investigators, but do note, Crimetopolis investigators found the Parsi anarchist at fault, the Carriebean Peacekeepers found the Parsi at fault, as did the Nihonese Kenpeitai and Tokko, along with the Manchuko Civil Police. We were forced to take action, and chose to enter the region claimed as the Parsa through our former Srivanskan ally. May I note how the Europa powers allied with this nation failed to take action, and its own Indianum Allies, except for us, betrayed them. We once again urge that they are freed from their oppressors. We believe the only solution in this issue lies in Indianum nations solving this issue, as Indianum nations best understand their own conflicts and cultures, although we do encourage limited intervention, that should be checked by this council." Nobuhito then sat down.

Ailes rose and said, "We are to believe the word of the Nihonese government, a government with a vested interest in the guilt of the Parsa government, the word of the Carriebean Government, a government barely worthy of the term, and the Crimetopolisian Government, a government so desperate for an alliance with Nihon that they are likely willing to do whatever is asked of them? Hardly trustworthy sources. This is like the Parsa defending their innocence with Aydinirian investigators. The Empire demands an impartial third party investigation into the allegations and an immediate apology from the Nihonese for their blatant aggression against an innocent and sovereign state. Let it be further known that the Manticoran Empire views the continued sovereignty of the Kingdom of Parsa as a matter of strategic importance to the security of the Empire and any future aggression will be seen as an act of aggression against the Empire and treated accordingly." With that, he seated himself.

Rudolf von Ribbentrop, the delegate for the Warglorian Reich, looked on at the ensuing discussion. The son of Warglorian Reichsminister for Foreign Affairs, Joachim von Ribbentrop, Rudolf was probably the youngest of all the delegates; in his late 20s. Despite his young age he had already proved himself quite capable in the realm of foreign affairs and political debate, and if there was one thing Warglorians concentrated on it was merit over anything else.

The handsome clean shaven and black haired delegate, clad in his brown suit which identified him as a political official of the Warglorian Reich, stood up.

"The delegate of the Warglorian Reich would like to speak in support of the delegate of the Nihonese Empire, the situation in Indianum has been left to fester for too long and interventions by....particular foreign nations has only increased tensions, the delegate of the Warglorian Reich would like to voice support of an international investigation into the current situation regarding the local conflicts in Indianum; especially that of the Nihon Delegate's claim of a 'Parsa Problem'," Ribbentrop said, "This delegate suggests a joint investigation force made up of officials coming from nations that have not been directly involved in the situation in Indianum recently."

"The delegate of the Warglorian Reich would also like to interject on the delegate of Breyburg's claim about the ICS. This delegate would like to correct the delegate of Breyburg that the ICS is not an alliance in the same way the Central Alliance is, rather it is a neutral council where nations may discuss issues. The ICS is not affiliated with any political, economic or military bloc as the Breyburg Delegate implied and this delegate would like to request said delegate refer to it in accordance." Ribbentrop continued, switching from McCalllum to High Chancellor Nevski.

"This delegate otherwise also requests to the High Chancellor to enforce said reference from this point onwards." the Warglorian finished.

Nevski followed through with this, "Statement as stated is factual and Delegations must keep it in mind. Session shall continue..."

Schlak Burger sat with his delegation, and watched intently as the discussion upon floor began to heat up. Indianum, some called it the melting pot, Burger thought boiling pot was more apt, as it seemed to be the cross roads of empires and the source of much conflict. Burger raised his hand to the Chancellor and was granted permission to speak.

"The Traansval, having suffered through war and occupation, feels that it must speak upon this topic, of which our experience has made us uniquely qualified to speak on."

After a brief pause, Burger continued "The Traansval seconds and endorses the Warglorian delegations suggestion of an investigation. The scope of the investigation, we feel should touch upon these points: Circumstances and facts relating to the attack within Nihonese Manchuko, so as to determine if said attack was in fact the result of Parsi aggression. An audit, so to speak, of facts relating to the brief conflict between Nihon and the Parsi, relating mostly to conduct of both sides, so as to ascertain facts as to culpability in the war. An investigation into the conflict in the former state of Sirvanska, particularly that of the territory taken by the states of the Aydiniri, the Hoosier, the Breyburg, Nihon, the Paris, and the foreign occupiers of the Nourcourt and Northern Confederation. The purposes of which would be to determine if the land taken by said powers was taken lawfully, and if the occupying powers have a right to keep the land, or if the land should be turned over to the Sirvanskan people to rule themselves. An investigation into the state of affairs in the Carribean, pertaining to the legality and right of foreign powers to currently hold and occupy Carribean land, and the final solution to the question of Carribean statehood. An investigation into current colonial holdings in Indianum, including but not limited to the Aclusian Raj, New Skarten, and others, to determine the legality of these holdings and if the powers that be truly have a right over their ownership."

"The purpose of such focuses would be to gather facts to be used in future decision making on more binding resolutions, with the ultimate goal of maintain national identity and independence of the peoples of Indianum. Currently, the Traansval sees nations like Sirvanska carved up, people of a national origin ruled by another. This, the Traansval, sees as unacceptable." Schalk finished, seating himself.

Ambassador Bill Williamson then asked permission to speak. "People of this fine body, Crimetopolis has no territorial ambitions at all. In the past, we have given arms to encourage peace. This has failed. We will no longer engage in this same policy, too. However, we will defend our ships against piracy. There is also the matter of the army Breyburg has stationed on one of our borders. We have not replied likewise to avoid accidental war. We urge Breyburg to return home their army. As a sign of good will, and all markets of our nation will be opened to Breyburg, too. Thank you." He sat down.

Schalk Burger raises his hand once more, “Additionally, on top of and in connection to resolutions of the Indianum situation, the Traansval would like to issue a non binding resolution whereby this council, the ICS, does hereby denounce the creation of new colonies, or the invasion and annexation of any foreign nations from today’s date forward into history.”

After the remarks of Schalk Burger were made, Diplomat Nivel Henderson stood from his seat quickly, facing torwards the Boer diplomat. "As of now Colonial expansion is a bad thing? The Aclusian empire has brought peace to these primitive lands, modernizing new people into members of our society"

Richard McCallum stood up. "The Socialist Allied States is ready to grant the region of Hettausa to set up a fair and democratic government. It is also prepared to hand over the land gained during the Carriebean wars, given that we are granted a port or strip of land that we can construct a port on."

Carriebeanian Ambassador to Nihon Harold Doorman coughed immensely before being patted in the back by his 19 year old military aide named Loretta Burns. The woman that accompanied the man was dressed up in a white nursing outfit complete with a little red cross and an elaborate Carriebeanian tricolor of red white and black sticking out in a peacock style hat.

“I'm fine, I'm fine!” Doorman said with annoyance.

Burns simply scoffed as Doorman kept coughing for several minutes, an ominously cold eyeroll greeting the diplomat as he made contact with the aide.

When there was a pause in the room, Doorman stood up. He was dressed in rat chewed and rat smelling suit and a pair of overalls that made his appearance outright surreal alongside the nurse.

“Rho Rha, Sorry, had to clear out my throat. Now, I shall first address both the proposals of investigations of Carriebean and the Affairs in the Carriebeanian Administrative Republic of Domitar in regards to the current ‘occupation’ of Aydinirian territory. I shall start with the latter first, as the Carriebeanian Administrative Republic of Domitar is one of the best independent entities and a true case of filibustering when done right, would move to encourage efforts in both Breyburg and Manticore, preferably by more Carriebeanian or Nihonese military generals wanting to conduct such business in their respective military units. If these forces are so independent, there is no need for such an investigation, However, Carriebean has announced it shall begin it’s own investigation immediately in regards to the illegal and immoral assaults on the Carriebeanian Administrative Republic of Domitar by the Aydiniran aggressors.
Now on to the second matter of state-“

Loretta Burns then stood up to interrupt the diplomat, much to his cigar filled look of chagrin.

“I got this granpa? Alright then, now with this second thingy of the well understood issue of the military occupation and subdugation of Carriebean. I would implore you to look from history. Has it worked, yes. Is there any reason to stop it to allow Carriebean to invade more countrys, get defeated, lose more territory until the ultimate extermination of the Carriebeanian state as an idea? Yes.
There is no fear from any diplomat here that Carriebeanian forces would march into Breyburg and see their capital. No Manticorian diplomat frets and loses sleep over a Carriebeanian occupation of their capital. I certainly see no worried looks from Hoosier on Carriebeanian genocide being committed against their civilian population or even our own which we are currently conducting.
You must not just stomp on Carriebean’s neck, you must twist until the corpse twitches and dies. Then there will be peace. I propose that Carriebean be divided into two distinct states with it’s remaining territory, a state for the ethnically enslaved Amanzo people, which comprise 40% of the current Carriebeanian population yet were only utilized 0.4% in all battles of the war. In this state, there shall be a system of reverse slavery set up, where the Amanzo people will enslave ethnic Carriebeanian and immigrant citizens, exterminating them when they are done with their labor. The remaining Carriebeanian majority shall have their Amanzo slaves until an agreement is reached to exterminate both sides. That is all.”

Rubbing his eyes in frustration at the shere ridiculous circus that was the Cartiebeanian delegation Nevski simply gave a light gesture to it as acknowledgement. The high Chancellor thrn turned his attention to the rest of the chamber as he was handed the transcripts of the debates by the Council reporter.

"This chamber shall deliberate first on the creation of an independent inquiry on the Parsi issue. Furthermore, a vote on this nonbiding resolution proposed by the Traansval requires a secondment." Nevski tooka sip of water as he continued.

"The votes shall start now. Everyone in favor of establishing an independent investigation into the Parsi Affair raize your hand and say 'aye'..."

Loretta Burns, now representing the Carriebeanian delegation, raises her hand and says "Aye."

Richard McCallum raised his hand, "Aye."

Rudolf, raised his hand "Aye."

Grant Moore, the Hoosier delegate, raises his hand and says clearly, “Aye.”

Prince Nobuhito, raised his hand and said "Aye."

Nivel Henderson raised his hand as well, "aye"

Schalk burger stood, “Aye!”

The prince of the Ruskland Confederacy simply nodded his head, then said a widely audible "Aye"

After the votes of approval were all counted, it was clear that the votes in favor had won a stern majority. Nevski set several documents aside as he then said "The ayes have it. We shall begin processes for an indepen investigative committee to be establish in the coming weeks."

Nevski slammed the podium's hammer to signal the end of the current debate in order to move on to the next topic. "The Report that intelligence services have provide also mention the issue of piracy in the Eastern Expanse. More accurately in the regions near Aydiniran jurisdiction and the Svirvankian anarchy. I wish to provide the Aydiniran delegation the chance to provide an explanation to these intrusions in commerce and shipping."

Due to the Aydinirian representatives not being able to comment right away, Prince Nobuhito stood saying "The Nihonese delegation would like to speak on the topic while the Aydinirians figure the matter out. Motion to approve? Do I hear a second?"

“Aye, the delegation of the Warglorian Reich seconds this move!”

With a bit of a grimace and an apprehensive expression Nevski gestured. "Proceed then..."

Prince Nobuhito once again stood and said, "The Empire of Nihon is currently the only nation who has taken military action against the piracy. But let's step away from that. I would like to explain what has currently been happening. The Aydinirian government has proclaimed that the pirates originate out of their own territory, what is now Leersog. It is recognized that their shipping has lost three vessels and Leersog has been in anarchy, but what has been occurring has been very... should I say suspicious? The attacks have only been carried out on members of the Indianum Alliance and these attacks have occurred thousands of miles away from Leersog. For the smaller ships operated by the pirates, this would be physically impossible. We have come to the conclusion that they have been illegally operating out of docks of homeland Aydinir. I admit, I come from a country that has very good order and a good police force. And yes I know Aydinir military is not as large, well funded, and their police force suffers from the same, but clearly we can see some corruption in their ranks as I find it very hard to believe no one will spot their ships entering port, or taking stolen foreign ships into a port that should have officials. I believe a full investigation should be launched as to that and possibly the deployment of a peacekeeping force in this third world country. "

He continued "The most important reason though is instead of pointing blame, this threat must be stopped. The pirates while they may not be hitting your shipping may very well, and it will ultimately have an impact on the world's economy and tourism, which accounts for a lot of money. So I urge all of you nations to send a combined naval task force to rid this threat for the sake of peace and prosperity in this world. Might I add some of your nations have signed treaties promising to protect your ally Aydinir from an attack. Likewise some nations have a similar treaty with the IA. Let the world combine together to fight this threat off once and for all!"

Roger Ailes stood and said, "These pirates are little more than a nuisance. They've done what? Seized three merchant ships worth little to the greater global economy. Why should any nation expend the funds and resources required to hunt down a group that doesn't even affect most of the world? Furthermore, why should anyone in the Central Alliance make any effort to assist your government and nation? It has been the actions of the Nihonese Empire that has created this situation and your government's unwillingness to refrain from that aggression has poisoned the situation. If you want to fight pirates, then you can do so without the Empire's support. Furthermore, any attempt to place Nihonese troops in Aydinir will be seen as an act of war."

Prince Nobuhito only smiled. He rose, "I was under the impression Aydinir was a part of the Central Alliance. Your nation agreed to defend Aydinir, which has seen their three ships taken. We have had ships taken, way more than just three ships have been taken. If you do not support this effort, you do not support Aydinir."

"Under Article Three of the Treaty, it is the right of each party State to determine if the alleged offence is sufficient grounds for intervention."
"Furthermore the Empire does not care about the impact of the pirates on your nation.

"The Aydinir representative is yet to speak." The Nihonese replied with a mocking tone, "Surely the Empire cares about Aydinir's ships."

Roger chuckled, "Again, why should we do anything that would benefit you."


Roger turned to address the assembly, "It is the opinion of the Manticoran Empire that Nihon poses a distinct threat to international stability. They have launched an unprovoked attack upon a sovereign state and have maintained threatening troop deployments around several more. Therefore, the Empire moves that the Government of Nihon be condemned as warmongers and the Empire of Nihon as a threat to international stability."

Grant Moore rose and said confidently, “Iron Guard Hoosier seconds this motion!”

"Mister Chancellor, there has been a motion and it has been seconded. I request that this motion therefore be moved to vote."

Nevile Hendersoon rose up and then looked to the rest of the assembly.
"As we are on the subject, I would like to state that Nihonese troops have yet to depart from the Aclusian Raj, as promised!"

Then he turned to the Hoosier and Manticoran ambassadors.

"I do agree with the perception of international threat, though we should not be quick to judge his tactics, as the last war showed that we all proved threats to international stability, some more than others of course."

Nevski slammed the podium hammer repeatedly. "Order in the council..." after a brief moment of silence the Chancellor then oversaw some documents and read.

"In accordance to the articles of the Councils Charter... indeed a vote shall be made."

While it seemed that Nevski was about to call for a vote the Arenginian chancellor added something "However as Chancellor of this assembly I find it primordial to first settle this matter on piracy. Thus the vote on condemnation of Nihons actions shall be made afterwards to the present debate."

Rudolf stood up.

"Piracy or banditry anywhere, no matter how minor or far away, is still piracy and banditry. And therefore, should be completely and utterly wiped out; whether by diplomacy or war," Rudolf said, "Unlike those who might neglect this problem, the Warglorian Reich is willing to deploy a naval task force in the area to help in wiping out the pirates."

Rudolf gazed upon the assembly, subtly stink eyeing the Manticoran delegate. "The Warglorian Reich hopes that this is the last time a Europiean Power must fix the problems of an Indianum one, or multiple powers in this case, and additionally hopes that it does not become a trend, as the Reich's resources can be spent in more essential and important operational theatres."

Nevile rose up quickly after the Warglorian Delegate Rudolf. "Here here!"

Ambassador Bill Williamson "We offer to send 100 Federal policemen, 200 state troopers, three hundred deputy sheriffs and 50 K-9s to aid Warglorian in it's piracy eradication."

Nobuhito stood. "I completely agree with the Warglorian and I thank him for his wise decision. Nations that choose to take action now are the true defenders of liberty and freedom of navigation."

He then turned to face the rest of the council. "Correct me if I am wrong but less than thirty minutes ago we voted to launch a full investigation into the attacks committed by the Parsi anarchist in Manchuko, did we not? I find it very hard to believe Manticorian and Hoosier officials let alone the entire ICS has been able to launch a full investigation let alone arrive in Manchuko to make the assumption the tactical strike was unprovoked. I would also like to point out, so far only five nations officially recognize the Parsa as independent. So I believe any vote made on condemnation of Nihon will not be of importance."

He took a breath and continued, "I would hardly call the Nihonese troop deployments, "threatening" and note how Manticore is unable to provide an example of a location that is threatening. I will tell you what is threatening, an unprecedented amount of Breyburgian troops on the Crimetopolis border, on the border Hallfurt, or the large divisions of Manticore's bordering Manchuko, to the entire armies that have launched probing attacks on Opus by Hoosier and Rachana. If any nation has committed threatening troop deployments it is the entire Central Alliance. Remember who started the aggression with the invasion of a Western League ally, Srivanska! Nihon is not the aggressor here, if anything, Nihon is acting purely defensive."

That was a long and dangerous voyage, as a huragane caught with the Aydinirian delegation on their way to Arengin. Tired and late, Imperial Minister of Foreign Affairs Eltariyos Sûrennah, Prince Shanrhain - younger brother of the Princess-Regent and the rest of Aydinirian delegation were led to their rooms and given a moment to get to best shape. Giving the fact that weather prevented them to get here on time, Eltariyos knew they would have to compensate this is some way.

Despite the fatigue and occasional wet robes, Aydinirian diplomatic delegation went towards the the main hall in almost maching way. When the door was opened, they went through the in equal rows, without a word and with stone-like faces, to finally sat on their sears. After all, Aydinirians love their theatres, the spectacle. And spectacle that was.

Yet on the way they passed next to the servants carring dead body of Harold Doorman, Carribean diplomat, with two shot wounds. Aydinirians already heard some romors when they reached their rooms, something about Warglorians and shots. It seemed the conference was much more exciting then one could predict. Eltariyos Sûrennah did not honour dead Carribean with more than two-second-long look and without any reaction continued his march, but when they all sat on their seats in the main hall Prince Shanrhain turned towards the Warglorian delegation, gesture of respect to Rudolf von Ribbentrop.
It was all when the Nihonese representant was finishing his speech. His last words seemed to be a reaction on Aydinirian arrival, which was met only by a half-smile from Imperial Foreign Minister.

[Arengin Union]

St. Osloverg, Building of the International Council of States.

---

After he finished, Eltariyos stood up as he was granted his time to speak by Nevski:
- Aydinirian Empire supports international investigation into terrorist attacks so recklessly attributed to the, so called, "Parsi Anarchists". I would like to point out the Nihonese Empire never gave a name of any terrorist organization or any specific group responsible for that attack. Instead, in mere 3 days and without any response to the Parsi calls for talks and investigation, Nihon declared war on the Kingdom of Parsa and invaded the country. This all makes Nihonese actions and accusations look very... dubious, to say at least. Giving the common knowledge of close relations between Aydinir and Parsa, it's strange Nihon never made any atrempts of talking with the Empire before deciding to invade Aydinirian ally. It's also interesting to hear that Nihon does not recognize independence of Parsa, if it was recognized by Nihon with the signing of the first deal between Indianum Aliance and Aydinirian Empire regarding division of the old Khaganate land, where all participants recognized territories occupied by Parsi Rebels as Parsi territory under Aydinirian protection.

How can Nihon claim its actions are purely defensive, if Nihonese Empire continually conducted provocations and aggressive moves against Aydinirian reason of state and Aydinirian allies? Nihon deliberately and consciously take a course on conflict with Aydinirian Empire, by invading Parsa, Aydinirian ally, without any attempts to negotiate, or even inform Aydinir of its plans. Kind sir, you demand example of threatening actions of Nihon? Nihon placed large numbers of troops in Yindrai, right on Aydinirian border, knowing well its a disputet territory. How can one describe that move differently than as intentional provocation? It seems even Aclusians don't want them there. Nihonese intervened in the Carribean Civil War, involving themselves in matters not theirs, dethroning and installing rulers according to their will. How could Aydinir interpreted that differently than a threat for Aydinirian security and an example of the Nihonese dangerous expansionism?

Said agressive expansion and voracious militarism have scaread even the evey allies of Nihon. The Invasion of Parsa and subsequent Nihonese provocstions aimed at Aydinir were the last straw that broke camel's back. It led to the formation of coalition to stop Nihonese threat and all actions mentioned as Central Aliance's aggressive moves were a mere response to said Nihonese actions. When Sirvanskan fell into anarchy and chaos, the Nihonese sent large numbers of troops south, supposedly to help. Yet to everyone else it looked as Nihonese backstabbing their ally - sending an army to take over the country plunged into chaos. It's not strange then, that all Sirvanskan neighbours decided to help restore order themselves rather than to let the Nihonese take controll over the failed Sirvanskan state. It is the Nihonese Empire that is the warmonger of Indianum. And it's a sentiment shared by most of Nihonese neighbours.
.
But speaking of anarchy, chaos and banditry. Current piracy plaguing the Indianum seas is a legacy of a failed state that was Sirvanska. For years already small scale attacks were plaguing Aydinirian shores, which was one of the reasons for the tense relationship between out states. With the collapse of the Sirvanskan Government, the pirates could flourish. They grew bold. State of utterly banditry and absence of law and order was one of the reason that pushed Aydinir to secure its norther frontier. It's interesting that Nihon stopped ignoring that matter only after its own ships were attacked and not years earlier, when that problem was just on our head. Aydinirian Empire absolutely agrees that Sirvanskan pirates must be crushed. That's why the Empire was gathering resources for the final solution of that problem, and I'm asking the Council for its blessing in that endevour. Aydinirian occupation is a nessesary first step. The Empire however will not allow foreign troops, especially those of Nihon and its allies, to operate on Aydinirian territory. Yet, we can promice that soon Order shall be restored in Sirvanska." THe Aydiniran representative finished.

Prince Nobuhito frowned. "Nihon has not released the names of the anarchist group involved due to the fact, that is important to the investigation. We Nihonese find no need to ask permission from another nation, one that is weaker than us in fact to defend ourselves. We have never recognized the group called the Parsa and never will.

As for our defensive deployments, the involvement into the Carribean Civil War was due to their attack on Srivanska, which was at the time an ally of Nihon, Breyburg, and Rachana. Our actions have been all with a reason to protect Nihon, even the deployment to Aclusian Raj. It is pitiful, that the Aclusian diplomat is not current with the situation as they left in April per the Aclusian government's request. We Nihonese always are good to our word and do have the care to read the daily newspaper unlike some of my counterparts. Once again, we Nihonese find no need to ask another power if we can defend ourselves. We act when the situation is current and fresh.

We did not invade our great ally Srivanska. We are supporting the government in Opus. The true traitors are Breyburg and Hoosier, who attacked their ally and have annexed the territory. And I do promise, one day when the Srivanskan people once again rise up, they will face their fury.

Let the council note, how Aydinir does not deny supporting the pirates and they do not deny allowing them to enter port. I motion to launch a full investigation by a third party into their government's support for the piracy. Their military is pitiful, and no such banditry would occur if they had a real military. And to the people of Srivanska, do not worry, for your liberation will come. "

Eltariyos only smiled slightly and stood up:
- And that is exactly why, Gentlemen, Nihonese Empire is seen as a threat across Indianum. That's the spirit and wonderful demonstration. The Nihonese believe they have a divine mandate to do whatever they want, wherever they want. They believe they are always in the Right and hold in absolute disregard others and their sovereignty. If someone oppose them, he is evil. They need never to ask for permision. Never to inform or negotiate. They do not honour deals. Nihon signed a treaty with Aydinir, recognizing the Parsi as Aydinirian protectorate, only to break that deal soon after and invade Parsa, now denying even the deal itself. That is why, kind lords, the Nihonese cannot be trusted. And that is why Aydinir supports Manticoran proposition of condemnation of the Nihonese Empire.

Maybe Prince Nobuhito has problems with hearing, or maybe it was me that was not speaking loud enough. I'm pretty sure I stated clearly Aydinir does not support Sirvanskan pirates. Sirvanskan pirates were our enemy long before Nihon get interest in that matter, when Nihon was even protecting them as citizens of their Sirvanskan allies. We cannot agree on foreign presence on our territory, especially that of Nihon or its allies. Especially not after that speach of malice, hubris and contempt that came from Prince Nobuhito's mouth. But once again I can promice, Sirvanskan pirates shall be dealt with.

In the meanwhile I would like to add to the Manticoran motion and propose a full third party neutral investigation of numerous Nihonese and Carribean war crimes conducted during their criminal Invasion of Parsa, including cases as horrible and barbaric as cannibalism observed in so called Carribean Republic of Dormitar. As I presented them during the conference in Vicuna, I can present the testimonies of victims, witnesses and survivors to this great Council."

Nobuhito stood and replied, "Clearly you do not understand. Would your nation ask permission from Manticore to attack the pirates? No it would not. Nihon is independent and will stay that way.

And I can hear quite well thank you very much. I would like for you to remember who you are insulting sir. I am no standard diplomat. I am third in line for the throne of Nihon." He was quite offended by the man, and made mental note to speak with the Kenpeitai later about the incident. He continued, "You fail to explain how the pirates are operating so far from their bases. We have never supported them and we have dealt with them more so than even your nation.

No war crimes have been committed other than that of Aydinir and the Parsa forces."

"Nepotism is a beautiful thing, isn't it? Were you Manticoran, you'd be shipped home in disgrace."

Carriebeanian Representative Loretta Burns took in the words that the Nihonese ambassador was speaking of, with piracy being a primary concern to them. The official Carriebeanian position on piracy was not to hang them up on gallows for the birds to pick apart corpses, but to give them shelter and possibly battlecruisers to more effectively hunt their prey apart. Hell, Carriebean had been handing out letters of marque against every vessel from their ports to small areas on the coast mostly hidden from watching eyes.

She found herself agreeing oddly with the very people who were occupying Carriebean, the Manticorians. She saw little reason to expend Carriebeanian resources needed to fight a war on piracy, especially since it would be cutting into one of the main income sources left for Carriebean, good old fashioned smuggling on anything that can float and hold cargo.

With a hostile glance towards the mention of a military taskforce through international waters against pirates by Warglorian diplomats, Burns found herself enough time to get out their government’s response.

“Such a rash action would be most unwise, gentlemen. It’s ironic that I find myself agreeing with the Manticorians on this. There is no need for such strong actions against motely band of scurvy sea dogs. Carriebean has interests in the area, with our trade fleets under fair game by any number of ships. It’s an unfortunate set of events, but if the Carriebeanian sailors do not wish to drown, they should either know how to swim or just stick to trading by land. I am ambivalent to the economic ramifications caused by piracy, though it adds a minor amount to our coffins every year with the prize tax we impose on pirates operating with letters of marque from our government.”

Before she could continue, she heard of the motion by the Nihonese into an investigation by a third party. “As much as I would love to have incompetent Carriebeanian detectives come back with a thick envelope with ‘evidence’ about Aydinarian wrongdoing in the area, It seems like Carriebean has too many international interests in the area to bother or risk losing such lucrative operations. As such, we shall not back the Nihonese with their third party investigation, and instead shall launch our own.”

Burns then listens of the proposed investigation into Domitar. ”Not Good. I must delay this news” She thinks before speaking once more.
“I understand the reasoning of the proposed investigation that surmises that the good soldier citizens of the Carriebeanian Administrative Republic of Domitar committed atrocities against the locals of the inhabited town. I can assure you it’s bullshit. Carriebeanian soldiers invited the Parsi locals to participate in local government functions and to actively support a joint ideology of Carriebeanian nationalism with Parsi characteristics. We were teaching these people to grow their own shit for more food, building up their decrepit wells that the Aydiniran soldiers poisoned while also having a few of them as willing sacrifices for the President’s feasts.

The Carriebeanian government has already begun an investigation into proposed abuses of man that may have occurred, so there is little reason to hold multiple, other than to tire the good Carriebeanian citizens out with all the interviews and have them relive traumatic memories of what the Carriebeanian soldiers allegedly did to them.”

"Considering that the Carriebean citizenry are dying of war, plague, and starvation, questioning will be a mercy." The Manticoran Rep expressed.

"Questioning a mercy? It's more of a painful sin for such devout people to go through, these wars, plauges and starvation from eating shit are merely trials for them, along with cannibalism. Questioning is an entirely different animal my friend. It gets in your mind, we would rather get it out of our minds and instead focus on the defense of the republic." Burns retorted.

-" Lady... Burns, I have no idea what hilarious accusations are that, giving the fact Aydinirian soldiers were never present in Parsa in the first place. We support our Parsi friends with equipment and resources but not men. I have no idea then how could our soldiers poison wells of our own allies. From the other hand, the very existence, although brief, of the cancer named Republic of Dormitar, is criminal in nature, as it was established by so called Carribean "Peacekeepers", sent to prevent escalation of conflict between Nihonese invadors and brave Parsi ressistence. Yet the Peacekeepers invaded Parsa hand in hand with the Nihonese. In the name of the Divine Emperor, we demand Carribean to bear consequences of that dishonorable act. Besides the investigation on Carribean and Nihonese warcrimes, there should be also reparations payed by the invadors to the Parsi People, so wronged by that war." The Aydiniran delegation interjected.

A sudden and defensive statement then came from the Nihonese delegates "Nihon has committed zero war crimes, and as such there is no international law that has been created that Nihon has officially signed!"

Richard McCallum stood up to speak to the Nihonese delegate.

"Yes, there is no such international law on war crimes yet, but the Empire of Nihon has undergone some suspicious operations. May I reference the occasion in which the Nihonese Navy gassed 2000 plus Breyburgian troops during the first IA-Carriebean war? It is theorized that the Empire of Nihon continues to experiment with lethal gasses, and I know for a fact that multiple nations would determine the use of such gasses in battle a war crime."

"We have not undergone suspicious operations and you should note the Imperial Nihonese Navy never gassed your men, and simply no ship I know of has the range to hit hundreds of miles inland. I do not deny The Empire uses lethal and non-lethal gasses, as we follow the precedent of what was used in the 9 Years War, by our allies and the enemy. Simply your nation is far behind the times military wise." The Nihonese representiave talked back.

"ORDER!" Nevskis shouted as he slammed the hammer once more.

“Delegates! If we could please calm down and act like sensible adults and actual grown up men befitting our current statuses and ranks, that would be most grateful!” Rudolf exclaimed loudly.

“Delegate of Nihon, please refrain from referring to yourself with personal pronouns and references of your own status and life,” Rudolf said to the Delegate of Nihon before turning to the delegate of Aydinir, “Delegate of Aydinir, please refrain from referring to others based on their personal rank and name, in the ICS we are ALL simply delegates of our respective nations: nothing more, nothing less.”

“And Delegate of Manticore, if you will continue to speak up simply to insult other delegates, the Warglorian Reich is not bluffing when it requests the delegate of Manticore be replaced with someone of more dignity and maturity as befits the delegate’s rank.”

Prince Nobuhito simply frowned upon the Manticorian's remark and when the Warglorian spoke, he then considered asking to go back to the Navy, although he knew his brother, Crown Prince Yasuhito, Ambassador to Aclus would frown upon doing so. So while being quite young; the youngest delegate in the room, and quite proud, he stood and said, "I agree with the Delegate of Wargloria, and I apologize for my outburst." Before sitting. While more calm, still determined to see what the Kenpeitai could dig up about the Aydinirian, to bring him to shame, or something other.

Aclusian delegate Sir Nevile Hendersoon then too to rising up for his input.

"Gentlemen, fellow lords and diplomats, let us conduct this meeting in a matter of a civilized union."

Nevile then turned to Prince Nobuhito who had sat down just recently.

"Thank you sir, and as agreed upon by the Aydinirians, the pirates will be dealt with." then to the Aydinirian delegate.

"You simply can not put the blame on the Nihonese for defending the Srivanskan citizens, as allies of that once mighty empire Aclus too tried it's best to keep the people safe" Neville then turned to the whole crowd of delegates that sat before him.

"That is all I have to say"

Roger Ailes rose and spoke, "It is all well and good to talk about civility and conduct. It brings us no closer to peace if all we do is talk about conduct and civility. If peace and cooperation is desired, then the Empire demands complete and total demobilization of the Nihonese Armed Forces as a prerequisite."

Nevski slammed the podium hammer much stronger this time. "There shall be order in this Council!"
When things finally settled within the room Nevski set the hammer aside and with a look of exhaustion spoke, "Since we've all seen both sides of this conundrum, I will bring rhe matter to a vote now." As Nevski spoke, all his words were written by the archive worker, who had tirelessly done the same for the other delegations.

"Those in favor of the establishment for an anti piracy committee that shall see to create a task force for such anti piracy endeavors, say 'aye', those against say 'nay'" Nevski awaited the votes.

Nevile Henderson thought to himself, "such a waste of resources."

He then stood up and said "aye."

Moore stood up, thinking to himself that there was no need to assemble a committee or waste resources on it, and said, "Nay."

"Nay". Came from the Manticoran delegation.

Sirvanskans shall be dealt with Thought Eltariyos as he then voted "Nay."

The Warglorian delegation gave a different answer, “Aye!”

The Nihonese Prince raised his hand "Aye." He paused before saying, "If the ICS does not form a task force, Nihon will. But to address the Manticorian's first outrageous remark, Nihon will never demobilize our Armies as we seek an independent and free country, and Indianum!"

“Nay,” Richard McCallum announced.

After all remaining votes were counted Nevski continued the session, "By matter of majority, the committee shall not be established and thus we put the issue as finished." Nevksi slammed the hammer to signal the continuation of the session as it should normally.

"Now" Nevski continued. We have the issue of Nihon's actions to discuss and the Manticoran delegation proposing a formal condemnation. The high Chancellor turned to Mr. Rogers.

"The Manticoran Delegation has the speaking floor..."

Roger Ailes stood and said, "Thank you, Chancellor." He then turned to the rest of the chamber and said, "Over the last several years, the Empire of Nihon has demonstrated that is an aggressive, expansionist power, with no regard for international precedence or the rights of other nations. It accepted the existence of the Kingdom of Parsa following the collapse of the Rayy Khaganate. Then, when it suited them, they accused the Parsa of backing anarchists and invaded. They maintain enormous deployments of combat troops in Indianum, a move which resulted in my own government placing an embargo on Nihon and gathering nations on Indianum to present a united front against Nihonese aggression."

"In reaction, the Nihonese have not attempted peace. Rather, they have demanded a free hand. They have demanded that they be allowed to conquer the world. They insult national leaders. They ignore international agreements. They have shown a blatant disregard for international stability. I implore you to make it clear to Nihon that this world will not tolerate such nations. This world has seen enough death and destruction. It is time we end the next war before it begins."

Prince Nobuhito frowned very deeply. Another thing for the Kenpeitai to deal with he thought. Screw those damn Manticorians. He rose, fueled with anger and he began to speak. "Nihon vehemently denies all allegations, but one. Let me explain. Nihon is an Indianum nation so of course we will protect our great nation. We have huge deployments of troops in Nihon so I find the Manticorian's point obvious and stupid. This akin to me saying, Manticore maintains enormous deployments in Manticore. But I am not here to point that out. We have made limited deployments and currently there is no Nihonese troops other than around 10 divisions in Shishiri and Manchuko that is on territory of an Indianum nation. Nihon has never accepted the existence of the Parsa. That is horrible fake news. We signed the treaty maintaining we did not recognize that extremist group supporting anarchy. But I am not here to point out how Manticore sends diplomats that know nothing of politics other than their own."

"We only struck the Parsa once a group supported by them attack the Manchuko capital a horrible event that led to thousands in damages and injured many. We have made hundreds upon thousands attempts to contact the Central Alliance for peace, without response. These aggressors only exist to threaten Nihon. They insult national leaders. They ignore international agreements. They have shown a blatant disregard for international stability. While we, have not signed international agreements, do not insult others, and hold international unity and stability to our highest standard and goal!"

"If anything Manticore maintains large deployments in Indianum. They have sent ships and fired near our shores, sent aid to the Parsi and troops which have murdered hundreds of thousands of civilians in Opus. I have even heard reports of Manticorian bombers dropping the most horrible chemical weapons that they claim to condemn. I have heard stories from Carriebeans that have fled to Hallfurt speaking of the most horrible brutality by Manticorian and Breyburgian troops.Truthfully, I heard one account from a man who said he watched the Manticorian troops beat his son, rape him, lash him, and then slowly over the process of two days, slowly saw him in half with a dull bamboo saw. And this must end! I motion to formally condemn Manticorian aggression in Indianum and the world."

Roger laughed. "If you had any evidence of those allegations, you'd have a leg to stand on. As it is, you are continuing your nations habit of making accusations without evidence. You have provided no evidence that the Parsa were behind the attacks. In fact, you declared war on the Parsa a mere THREE DAYS after the attack on Manchuko. Furthermore, the Central Alliance HAS made efforts towards peace. A summit was held in April, in which your nation did nothing but make demands and deny concessions. Furthermore, the Central Alliance exists solely because of the aggression of the Empire of Nihon and to say otherwise indicates either blatant ignorance or incompetence."

"You have no evidence for your allegations. And there is a reason the council has launched an investigation into the attacks. I would expect to see specialists from your nation there." Nobuhito replied.

Roger scoffed, "I have no evidence? Are you denying that your government declared war a mere three days after an alleged attack?"

"We had conclusive evidence by that time." Nobuhito answered.

Visibly angered, Roger spoke up "You have made false allegations from the very beginning. You have accused the Parsa of supporting anarchists without providing evidence for your claims. You have accused the Empire and her allies of aggression while defending your own. You deploy armies in the hundreds of thousands to the borders of nations on the Indianum continent and then claim foul play when those nations take steps to ensure their security. You have created a powder keg which may explode into global war at the slightest mistake. The Central Alliance has attempted to de-escalate the situation. It was YOUR nation which made that impossible. YOUR nation which refused to compromise. YOUR nation which demanded concessions from the Central Alliance while offering nothing in return. And you stand here and you DARE to accuse the Empire of aggression and fostering instability?"

"Conclusive evidence in three days?"

Roger laughed raucously. "You must have magicians as policemen, then. Well then, where is it?"

"WHERE IS THIS EVIDENCE YOU CLAIM TO HAVE!"

"PRESENT IT NOW!"

"I would like to first address Mr. Roger's first contention should the council allow." Nobuhito said while looking to Nevski

"Only because you have no evidence to present." Roger interrupted, "You have no evidence because you couldn't possibly accumulate it in three days."

Calmly, Nobuhito turned to Roger "I was asking Mr. Nevski for permission to address your fist contention first not you. I find your actions rude and disrespectful to Mr. Nevski."

The more the Nihonese argued and lied, the wider smile grew on Prince Shanrhain's lips. When Nobuhito was pushed into the corner of presenting evidence for their oh so many claims, Shanrhain started to laugh. With voice clear and deep, holdings the glass of water as if that was a glass of Aydinirian red wine. To laugh, looking straight into Nobuhito's eyes. Eltariyos quickly turned to him and sent him a stern look. It was a breach of diplomatic custom and the old diplomat certainly did not approve that. Young prince was however, let's say, of much more firely nature. He only shrugged to Eltariyos, stopped laughing but continued to look straight at the Nihonese delegation with the same bold glance

Prince Nobuhito looked over at the Aydinirian tyrant. He made a nod to one of his members of the Nihonese Imperial Guard, who proceeded to slip out of the room silently and quickly, before getting on the phone with the Black Dragon Society and Kenpeitai.

Meanwhile, watching from under the seat of the High Chancellor Nervski, Eugen Otto sat; wearing a business suit and markings that identified him as Vice-Chancellor. Originally a Warglorian ambassador, as Wargloria was chosen to be the first nation to hold the position of Vice-Chancellor, Otto was sent to take the job. And although he was Warglorian, his job and objectives were completely different to that of his ambassador counterpart; he was to be a neutral party in these affairs.

As Vice-Chancellor of the ICS, Otto had powers similar to that of the ICS High Chancellor, though his power only extended to whether the High Chancellor approved of it or not. Standing up, Otto slammed his own gavel on his desk.

"ORDER!" Otto shouted out. As silence reigned, he then once more spoke.

"Delegate of Manticore and Delegate of Aydinir, know that laughing is not in order, and both delegates are now given a warning to not show this level of unprofessionalism again," Otto continued, "Similarly, insulting other delegates too is not permitted, so to this the delegate of Manticore is given a second warning to not show this level of unprofessionalism again: this is not a pub, delegate, this is an international council to discuss and decide the future affairs of the world, if you are unable to behave I will have you removed from this room."
-
Finishing, he proceeded to turn to the Nihon delegate. "Permission is granted to address the Manticoran Delegate's first contention, the delegate of Nihon has the floor," Otto said calmly, "However, the Vice-Chancellor would like for the delegate of Nihon to be aware that it is preferred that the delegate refer to other delegates as the delegates of their respective nations, rather than their actual personal names. The Vice-Chancellor would also like to request the delegate of Nihon that it does not make proper accusations said to be supported by evidence unless that evidence is present."

"Otherwise, the delegate is permitted to proceed."

"As the Vice Chancellor said... proceed." Nevski said more as a backing to Otto's actions than anything else.

Carriebeanian Representative Loretta Burns raised an eye at the Nihonese delegate speak of supposed atrocities heard from a third hand and poorly cited source. She was aware of the aggressive motions that the Manticorian soldiers had been handling carriebeanian civilians and women, but she could understand those actions. They were repulsive to the forces now under occupation, but they were the victors after all, they had some right to pillage Carriebean as the superior army.

“I am well aware of rumored atrocities that the Manticorian soldiers have committed against the general populace. If they hoped to avoid having one hell of a resistance insurrection on their hands, that backfired immensely. These actions by the hound dogs motherfucking bastards that manage manticore will see the resistance only grow with more atrocities.”

Burns then snaps her fingers for an aide to hand her a massive leather bound book with a red cover on it, slamming it down on the table with a thud and pointing at it. “On the other side of the coin, I do have a massive list of numerous Carriebeanian Commanders and leaders who have been conducting actions unworthy of a superior officer, including massacres of our own people, cannibalism, drawing and quartering, hanging, cutting off the hands and legs of everyone within Carriebeanian villages of the native Amanzo tribes, guillotining Carriebeanian soldiers for desertion and offering to surrender to allied armies, just to name a few.

By Carriebeanian Estimates, 8 million people have been murdered or massacred in these incidents of genocidal happiness. More likely ordered out by our President, a vehement patriot, nationalist and anti-Semite. These numbers exclude the hundreds of thousands killed monthly for their food in mass cannibalistic ceremonies for Catholicism. If anything, Manticorian brutality is completely justified in this case. A spleen for a spleen, if you will. Carriebeanian soldiers are not angles, no army in history has been comprised of such creatures, yet not all of them are satan’s ass whippers. Quite a normal thing to occur, though Carriebeanian sodiers have been more thirsty for blood to supplement their diets of shit recently, so they might have even begun to attack our enemies by attempting to bite them. We’ve traded grenades for salt and pepper shakers, our carbines for a large fork and helmets for chef’s hats.”

Prince Nobuhito now stood, and replied, "Thank you Vice Chancellor. And thank you Chancellor. I would first like to address the Manticorian Delegate's first contention, one without proof. The ICS has deployed investigators to investigate the incident. But alas your nation has no proof of otherwise. We have no armies of hundreds of thousands of men deployed at any border, and only take actions in defense of our great nation, our allies, and our territories. We have not demanded any unreasonable concessions unlike your allies who have all made demands that are the complete opposite of each other. We have gave into demands and even offered to accept the 'Treaty of Vicuna' presented to our diplomats, but alas to no avail. I wish to submit Exhibit 1A to the council, which is a copy of the demands."

He nodded to one of his guards who walked up to the chancellor's bench and deposited it with the secretary.

"Next I would like to debate the second contention of the Manticorian delegate. The evidence is quite clear and can be further investigated by the ICS mission. the investigation continued after the intervention, but after three days, the evidence was more than clear. But I do have some evidence on hand. While I did not see it smart to bring one of the bombs that failed to explode with me to such a meeting, I do have the reports submitted by the Kenpeitai, Tokko, Manchuko Civil Police, the Carriebean Peacekeepers, and the Crimetopolis policemen. I wish to submit Exhibits 2A, 3A, 4A, 5A, and 6A. I also have with me images of the dead hostiles and, our injured, the damage, and the hostile's belongings. In which we had found weapons, papers, and religious items originating from the Parsa. And we even found Manticorian money on them, leading us to suspect Manticorian involvement in the plot. I wish to submit Exhibit 7A to the council. Thank you. That is all."

Once again, one of his guards walked up and deposited the evidence.

"So because they had religious items from Parsa that means they were supported by the Parsa government? " Roger said with a shocked and somewhat in disbelief tone, "That's your evidence? That is laughable. That isn't clear evidence. That is circumstantial evidence that provides no indication of who actually planned and organized the attack."

Carriebeanian Representative Loretta Burns snapped her fingers at the Nihonese ambassador. “I don’t believe President of the Carriebeanian Administrative Republic of Domitar Julian Theodore Wilkie ever sent you a report at all. Let me see the paper my government sent you.”

She loomed over the document, turning it upside down before maneuvering it the other way before exclaiming. “This is in an Amanzo tribal tongue. Translated back to Carriebean, it details plans for nation building within Parsi, with plans for mass occupation and liberation of hundreds of towns in an operation Dynamic Drug High. The plan was to invade Parsi, push back local Aydiniran military forces, occupy several towns, have them declare independence, establish commercial ties with Carriebean to enable their fine fur coats to be traded for the best Carriebeanian fertilizer and fruit this side of Indianumn, with genocide being a side goal for the occupation force if resistance proves too difficult, with an order to also evacuate and loot their homes before setting everything else to the torch to retreat back to Carriebean. We would provide security against terrorists and nationalist elements within the Aydiniran political leadership, preparing over fifty contingency assassination plans for it.”

Nobuhito continued, "I guess you did not hear me correctly Delegate of Manticore. We found WEAPONS, PAPERS, and religious items originating from the Parsa. Not to mention the other evidence. Was the Delegate of Manticore absent when we voted to launch an investigation into the Manchuko attack?"

"Weapons can be bought and papers forged. Hardly enough evidence to arrest a person, let alone invade a country. This is precisely the blatant aggression that created the Central Alliance."

Burger stood up, "What, if I may ask, is the purpose of this arguement? A investigation has been voted to be formed. There is no point in voting or even debating on a condemnation or any comment on whether the war was justified until we receive information from the investigation. If anything, the only thing we could speak on is the conduct of Nihon after the war, which additionally we are mostly blind, as the only information we have currently is either hearsay or from the Press, and only the completion of the investigation shall provide us objective facts. If I may, I would recommend to the Manticoran Delegation that it would be more prudent to table this resolution until the investigations end...." Schlak sat down with a huff, finding the constant bickering between the Manticorans and Nihonese upsetting.

Rudolf stands up, “Aye, the delegate of Wargloria agrees with the delegate of the Boer Rebel State, such a subject should be continued only after evidence from neutral ICS Investigators come in.”

With Nevskis approval, Otto stood up. “Very well, all those who agree with this sentiment and wish to continue discussion on this resolution at another time say Aye,”

“Aye,” Rudolf said.

"Nay" Burns said.

Burger stood, "Aye!"

"Aye!" Prince Nobuhito said, all the time thinking, 'what reasonable people those Boers are. Pitty they were against Wargloria, they would do good for arms sales.'

"Nay. The Nihonese cannot be allowed to declare war on a whim. We cannot allow the circumstances which sparked the Great War to continue to exist."

The Ruskland prince spoke up once more to throw his vote into the matter, "Aye.".

"Nay," Moore said.

"Aye" Nevile said quickly standing up, "this is a blatant attack on the Nihonese people, the people of Aclus would do the same and is currently doing so in the countryside of rannoria"

“Nay, this unchecked imperialism must be checked.” Richard McCallum said.

Victor Chavsketzu of the Arenginian Delegation then made his own vote heard, "Aye... thought as the Manticoran delegation said, we must take all precautions in order to avoid another world war which would most definetly bring upon the end of our civilization." Taking a short pause, rhe Delegate continued, "Full investigating inquiries must be continued before any sort of action is to be taken."

Eltariyos stood up.
"Nay. Nihonese Empire cannot simply declare war on smaller states, break deals with bigger ones and go with that without any repercusions. That is the primary reason why Indianum, and by extension the world has been pushed at the brink of war. All of that is also a blantant lie and attack on the Government of Parsa and the Parsi People, which just menage to regain their independence. Are we not supposed to defend the right of self-determination of nations? Nihonese from the begining showed that the Invasion of Parsa was against not any particular group but the State and the Parsi People themselves. Furthermore, Nihonese did not present any, I repeat any motive, why freshly independent nation state would attack neighbour empire. There were also no terrorist groups active in Parsa prior to the terrorrist attack blamed on the Parsi. There are no active terrorist groups now and the Nihonese seem reluctant to give a name of the one that is supposedly responsible for the attack. I find it difficult to believe anyone could fell for such a poorly argumented accusation and even consider it a valid casus belli."

"Delegate of Aydinir, you were NOT given the floor! Please sit down!" Otto said.

"Besides that, with a vote of 6 for and 5 against, the vote passes, we shall resume upon the subject of a condemnation of Nihon at another time once agents from the ICS investigate the matter," Otto said, "Now we shall move on to a matter submitted by the delegate of the Rebel Bo--, I mean Transvaal state concerning the formation of a conciliatory police; delegate of the Traansval, you have the floor."

Afterwards. The session went on normally, with multiple debates and some more menial resolutions being passed. Though it had been a very shaky first session of the International Council, it had also set the grounds for the Organization. But would it ultimately succeed or would it fall? Only time could tell.

[Aclus]

City Of London
Armistice Day
Early 1928
A New Dawn

The air was freezing with fog filling the streets of the old city of London. Aclusian citizens of every way of life passed through the mornings haze as small shops and markets began to open up. The smell of the fresh bread and meats from the bakeries and meatworks loomed around, filling the nose with joy and splendor, followed by the occasional kick of a football by the little kids of the city full of culture.

The city had seemed to be bustling with life today, as it had been armistice day and old soldiers and widows with their children marched down the streets to local churches to pay their respects to those that gave everything 7 years ago. One of many of the soldiers that followed to the church was a man of the name Sir Oswald Mosely, youngest member of Parliament, soon to be one of the most influential men in the whole world. With the gathering of everyone in the city center to sing songs of sorrow and to give a prayer for the many who did come home missing limbs or parts of their minds, it was the perfect opportunity for Oswald to take advantage of.

Years before in 1915, he had served the king. Flying in the airs of Rannoria as a combat pilot in the Royal Flying Corps until his crash, suffering a leg injury. Though returning to the front quite early as part of the Infantry, his leg never fully healed, thus developing a limp. In 1918 he fought against the Manticorans at Tamir and then in Ruskland, passing out in battle due to his injuries during rearguard actions at the Battle of the Bog, earning a medal for gallantry as he had assisted in covering the Aclusian retreat.

As the ceremony ended however, Oswald had quickly got up to the podium that only priests had resided on, taking control of the large crowd around him that was leaving. "My fellow people of Aclus! Wait! Do not leave yet for I have something you all must hear!" He shouted, drawing everyone in the crowd to face him with their undivided attention.

Eric Stewart, Marshal of Iron Guard Hoosier, was in the Aclusian capital of London on official business with the new King of Aclus. It was determined that, after the assassination of the previous monarch, it was only right to schedule a state visit with the Aclusians, just for the formality at least. However, there was another reason for the visit, and a reason for day on which Stewart chose to arrive in the country.

Stewart was due to meet with a man, one Oswald Mosely. Mosely and the Iron Guard government had limited contact before, but he had insisted that Marshal Stewart be invited to this particular Aclusian Armistice Day event. In fact, the Marshal had heard that many Hoosiers in the country, businessmen and soldiers on leave, were invited and encouraged to arrive.

The Marshal walked through the city streets, accompanied by a personal bodyguard and a complementary escort of Aclusian soldiers, to ensure his safety. The streets were filled with men, women, and children celebrating, but Stewart saw past the flair of the event, and saw subjects cheering for a war started by greedy kings and nobles, fought by the manipulated masses, and ended with bloodshed and and mounds of the dead. Lies disguised as patriotism.

As he walked, Stewart arrived in time to see Mosely take the stage and call for his countrymen to remain and listen to his words. As he looked around, Eric could see many turn to look, and noticed a great many Hoosiers in their ranks, easily picked out by their slightly differing features and clothing, as well as their overall out-of-placeness. He looked up at Mosely, locked eyes with him, and gave a smile and a small nod of encouragement.

"Make it a good one," his eyes seemed to say.

As the crowd had finally drawn its attention, Oswald had nodded to the Hoosier Marshal readying his throat for the speech at hand. "Thank you my fellow people, for giving me your attention" Oswald then continued.

"I like to thank the people gathered around here, Aclusian people gathered around in the very heart of Aclus.
There are no other people i would rather be among. No place i would rather be and no time I would rather be alive.
because ever since the terrible events that was the Great war and the passing of our beloved King george, I have known that the change is coming.

The Human species has never faced such immense possibilities in the lives of great nations, there are moments of destiny that have swept aside the small men of convention and discovered men of the moment. As before you I stand as one of such men. A man suited to the mood that Aclus is now in.

The only reason I say this now, on this moment, on this stage is because I have some news, Good news of course.
I am sure our priests and heavenly fathers would forgive me to use this platform, this gathering of friends and like minds. to give you beloved people, a early announcement of a long overdue event.

I want to tell you good folk of Aclusia first, that with the dawn of a new decade. I will be setting a new course, setting up a new political movement HERE!, in the very heart of Aclusia, and you will all be with me, shoulder to
shoulder. It will offer a new conception of politics which the very character of the Aclusian, OUR TRUE CHARACTER, will be reborn.

....moment pause.....

Many of you lost loved ones in the Great war, the men of money, the capitalists in Vicuna, The Maxtopians who run the banks, the moneypower in which they run a international system in which the infinite mobility of money, its capacity, to create financial chaos and panic can bring down any government that dares to oppose
it. FOR GENERATIONS the efforts of hardworking men like you have equipped our competitors against us!.

The cotton mills of Indianum! The cotton mills of Zeeland!

Created with Aclusian money but used for the destruction of Lancashire and Yorkshire!. The Sweated labor! of the orient! combining to destroy the iron and steel factories of Warwickshire and Staffordshire!.

these are policies that could not be persued by Aclusian statesmen unless they were mad or the servants of Maxtopian Finance!. THEY! are the ones who took your loved ones and your money!, but it is I and those who know this truth, who will light a flame
the atheists cannot extinguish.

....moment pause....

The ranks of our heroes of the Great war have been betrayed again and again by politicians!, but hear this, those of you who fought the Maxtopian war for nothing, you brave men will join hands with the angry youth in London, and MANCHESTER! and LIVERPOOL! and DECLARE THAT ACLUS LIVES TONIGHT! AND MARCHES ON.

I Say all this to you now because I believe it is in places like this, with fellow people like you that will have to pass on our message directly. Our message can be summarized with these words,

ACLUS FIRST!

And because this is our Message, I doubt it would be reported fairly around the world. I am afraid the newspapers of our mighty empire and the world are owned by the same vested interests who took your loved ones and left you with nothing to eat or scrape by on!.

They sell to the people False news, to raise the interests of the faction and the section above the interests of the nation!. So hear my words and pass them on to those with ears to hear.
and be reminded that when the new decade begins, there will be the birth of a new political party!, which will speak for you!.

This party! this new movement, this revolution! will be called! The Aclusian Union of Fascists!"

Upon the moment Oswald had finished his speech, sweat sliding down his forehead of which a vein bulged from. Breathing heavily, chants from the crowd grew louder.
Soldiers and regular people alike, hands raising fists striking the sky.

Marshal Eric Stewart smiled as he calmly clapped, joining in with the throngs of men who were less reserved and instead chose to cheer, scream, and clap wildly. The Hoosiers within the crowd, businessmen and soldiers alike, joined with the cheering Aclusians. Men jumped happily, raising their voices to be heard among the countless others doing the same.

A group of Hoosier soldiers on leave began to chant, "Mosely! Mosely! Mosely!" Soon, Aclusians nearby began to join the chant, throwing their arms around their Hoosier counterparts. One man shouted, "Hoosiers and Aclusians fought and bled together! Our quarrel is one invented by the monarch! Hoosiers and Aclusians are BROTHERS IN ARMS!" He was met with cheers before they returned to their chant for Mosely. Hoosier soldiers began to stir up the crowd more, shouting and chanting along with them, getting their voices louder and stronger, reminding them of their forgotten bond with the Hoosier people.

Stewart walked toward the Aclusian fascist, clasping him on his arm. "You have done well here, Mosely. I can see you will lead your people to greatness. Fascism is the way forward, away from an age of tyranny by nobility. Hoosiers and Aclusians have shared history, and a shared destiny. You must be ready to seize that destiny, by any means necessary. Always remember, brother, you have a friend in me, a friend in Hoosier. Your people must lead themselves out of the darkness, and you will be the one guiding them. God bless you."

Oswald shook the Hoosier Marshall's hand, with a searing smile at the man and to his people full of joy and satisfaction.

"A new era for Aclus awaits, one of which the old generation will not see" Oswald replied as he freed himself from the embrace and raised his hand up in a (sieg heil) stiff salute.

[Newne Carriebean7]

Das Kapital Region
Presidential Palace Grounds
January 1st, 1928

President Rachlet Partenbré let out a deep sigh at the small collection of soldiers, armed homeless people who could do with a shave, and the occasional actually competent sober elderly woman who had devoted her life to god. Taking in the deep smell of thick cigars from the apparently “reborn” Christian, he laughed to himself, with a moment of glee taking his mind off of the dreary situation Carriebean currently found herself in. He couldn’t have asked for a better audience, with a small microphone connecting the speech to be read out to the hundreds of thousands of Carriebeaners with access to radios (save for the ones who showed them off to their occupying forces, with much amusement by their military forces). He convinced himself that giving the speech out to as many as a hundred thousand people would instill some sort of hope for Carriebean. For him personally, the nationalistic appeals would still oversaturate his message, but he hoped for a slightly less belligerent tone at the end.

Grabbing a small shit sandwich and chasing the shit down with a refreshing swig of water from a latrine pit of various waste liquids, he let out a gasp of relief before beginning his speech to the entranced dozens currently facing him in the small room.

“People of the glorious nation, your prayers will be answered in due time. My solid allies and companions of this wonderful land, we work together to ensure such balance and order, the whip and the slave go hand in hand in harmonious synchronization akin to a clock. I understand the hardships many of you are going through, and I sympathize with the plight of Carriebeanian citizens forced from their homes by savage apes known as our solider-I mean the enemy soldiers. They have been known to commit horrific acts that disgust common, working folk like you and me. Sure, I may work for a seven hundred figure salary that’s worth about three cents a year if you convert it to anything of worth, but it’s something to do. We have been plighted by disease, drought, famine and war all in the past, and what have we all done? Gotten up, dusted ourselves off, and tried again. Sure, we keep failing, and failing and failing, but I have a REALLY good feeling about this next time we decide to declare war. Just a gut feeling.

I weep with many of you who have lost your loved ones, and sincerely hope you join them in a rapid pace to ensure the souls are at ease, preferably taking the lives of our bastard imperialist overlords, if you would population, that’d be fucking fantastic. Now, War is hell, we’ve seen crops burned and railroads destroyed, to the eighty percent of you not within Shishiri or the capital and are easily scared by loud scary things that go really fast. Many of you have suffered horrible losses both with regards to numerous merchants having their cargos seized or burned, many an aspiring entrepreneur having their dreams crushed by the torch of an angry mob of carriebeanian-I mean enemy infidels. Conflict is never easy, and though some may contend it would be used as a last resort, the Carriebeanian Motto is thusly: what the fuck is peace? Carriebean has not known peace for ages! War is our natural order of things. It enables Carriebeanian social services to better stretch like brittle taffy that snaps in two. Sure that also means that you’ll never get your mail from carrier pigeon and horseback, but if we keep at it, we’ll invent the marse cawed. Oh? It’s morse code? What the fuck is that?

Oh fuck it, I’m getting sidetracked here. Now, I propose that Carriebean must be a nation where every blade of grass is a spear. We shall bleed the enemy dry! All patriots of the true motherland, fatherland and sister land will rally behind the black, white and red banner of Carriebean! We can thank our prosperity, ruin and rebirth to the Patriotic Party and their wonderful programs of nationalism, revolution and imperialistic slavery. We shall march forth, conquering new continents, taking their peoples of various races to sell to the highest bidder, regardless of name or funny accent! Business is a key tenant of Carriebeanian society. I encourage those businesses under occupation to refuse to serve their occupiers, throw off their chains, arm themselves with weapons and commit revolutionary suicide!

In the event of the unthinkable, immoral and irreprehensible invasion of sacred Carriebean Soil, Carriebeanian civilians must marshal into an army of millions! The enemy must bleed to death, forcing them to pull out of the occupation! Only then can we be victorious in the war! Revolutionary Suicide involves ending the lives of the infidel barbarians by sacrificing your soul! It is not discriminatory, and…”
He momentarily paused before forcing the words out of his mouth."

“If the slaves so desire to die in their chains and wish to die for their masters, we shall arm them with weaponry of ninth rate caliber! We’d rather not have a slave revolt on our hands here. Explosives shall be given to every man, woman and child to lead a million force army! The Carriebeanian Resistance begins now! The Carriebeanian State is dead! Let us die for the glory of Carriebean! Death to the invaders!”

The crowd was worked up in a frenzy, with rampant shouting of “Death to invaders! Long Live the Glory of Carriebean!” being echoed throughout the small area.

Personal Retreat of Marvin Washvelt

“What a fucking nut job.”
The radio was killed by a simple flick of the switch that former president Marvin Washvelt had messed with. He shook his head as he took in the words of the speech, simply disregarding much of the belligerent language that had proven only capable of getting Carriebean into wars she could never win.

Washvelt poked the hearth’s small wicking flames with the aptly named fire poker, kindling back to life the dying embers of the fire, it glowing burning red before slowing down into a cooler orange hum. He quite enjoyed retirement after he had resigned, with little in the way of people bothering him thanks to his remote location. His cabin was located on the edge of a forest, pretty far inland of Carriebeanian proper on the continent itself. It being a humble structure of just three rooms, a large living area with the hearth supporting the tin sheets that folded wavy over the roof to provide relief from bugs and rain. Off to the rear of it was a door that lead into his bedroom, followed by a tiny kitchen with a small diamond pattern and an icebox.
He looked over at the beautiful mountain vistas, with a shining lake looming over it that glistened in the sunlight. He wanted to just drink it all in, another quaint and peaceful moment-

A quick pounding on his door brought him out of the tranquility of mother nature from the comfort of his humble abode and into answering the door with a mild amount of cursing.
“This had better be important.”
Opening the door he saw two Hoosier military officials salute.
“Where’s Larry?”
The military officers pointed to a body face down in the ground with a red spot on the back of his head.
“Oh. That’s what I get for hiring cheap mercenaries. Fucking Larry. Now what is it I can do for you gentlemen?”
The two soldiers turned to one another and asked a question.
“Are you the President?”
“Former-Former President. I resigned in ‘26. When you run a country for almost forty years, it get’s rather monotonous eh?” He joked, playfully jabbing the guard’s shoulder, who remained stone faced.
“I guess humor is lost on you. Christ on a flaming fuck, I thought you boards were made from talking trees. Oh, do you mind if I stop off into town real quick, I just realized I’ll need butter.”
“Butter?” one of the soldiers said, looking younger than the older one.
“Yes, some Carriebeaners don’t just eat shit sandwiches, I have standards, I’m normal for god’s sakes, I ran the fucking country for forty years.”
With a playful wrap around either soldier’s arms, he brought them out to his horse drawn buggy.
“I cant afford a car, fucking economy, right?! I reaallly should stop making eye contact, you people scare the shit out of me! Hiyah!” Whipping out, the horse was startled before trotting down the hill towards the town, with the president apparently under a peculiar escort for a trip to get butter.

Occupied Carriebeanian City of Yoho Harbor

Baron Von Goethe’s cane echoed through the blood stained cobble stone roads with ample brown stains oozing from several dying soldiers who had lost control of their bowels. Carriebean was a completely altered beast from scarcely a decade prior. In 1914, Carriebean was one of the most technologically backwards and incompetent countries on the earth and managed to bungle almost four wars with it’s neighbors in spectacular failures in the realm of foreign policy. Its Navy was a mess of battleships rusting away in the thick foliage of jungles, their crews mutinous and unsteady to serve.

The Carriebeanian country had been through several monarchs and at least three solid civil wars that left hundreds of thousands dead total, not to mention the millions dying during all the international conflicts the presidents had embroiled the country in. The economy still had been underwater, with slavery still being a main source of de facto income for the remaining nobility that were still stripped of their royal peerages and titles when they had revolted against the king.

Carriebeanian military forces, in their poor shape, dissolved almost without the immense prodding of the occupation forces, with numerous disun commanders, tensun commanders and the three classes of Flanks Generals now finding themselves without units to boss around and on permanent leave. These now leaderless generals were left with the defunct government’s minimal stipend of 4,000 Sais (enough for a pebble from the road sold by a merchant) per year.
Clearly this was not enough to be utilized, and so the occupation force implemented massive reforms, such as paying the soldiers and generals (well those that hadn’t been on a list of war crimes) before giving them a pledge and shipping them out to the civilian world, quite a new world which had been altered immensely.

Carriebeanian soldiers returned home to broken homes, with numerous families being broken up by their wives which had become promiscuous prostitutes in order to provide enough for their starving children, breaking up several homes in bloody fashions which were chalked up by Carriebeanian police as “revolutionary suicides”. One of the darker notes of this period of occupation was the suicide rate of the high ranking military members, with numerous taking their own lives during these times, not wanting to live “in an occupied Amanzo nigger’s world”.

Perhaps the hardest thing for the occupation forces was when they came to the local churches which acted as the closet things besides military academies to proper educational institutes. These churches would be filled with children dying, though when some of them offered to help with bread, the local preists and bishops would calmly strike a match in the basements filled with gunpowder, blowing themselves up in what were known as “Church’s Last Rites” by Carriebeanian newspapers which glorified such actions as “honorable”. These presses were hastily suppressed by the occupational force, not wanting an epidemic of mass suicide to sweep over Carriebean.

For the most part, these efforts were successful, with only the most devout and brainwashed by the ruling Patriotic Party (and those with plenty of literal skeletons in their closets and churches) opting to blow themselves up. Those with little bread and plenty of shit cake sandwiches saw no need for suicide in these instances. These people may have had glimmers of optimism in their eyes, a very rare thing for 1870s Carriebean, an uncommon occurrence in 1914 Carriebean, but 1927 Carriebean was a changing place, more cynical to such actions, beginning to hope for a better future than swallowing revolutionary propaganda by the government press machines.

Baron von Geothe soon smacked his lips in thirst and looked at a shoddy looking building with the word “Saloon” emblazoned on the front of it in a brownish tint and barely legible lettering. Entering through the doors, the quaint piano music abruptly died on his ears as every patron at the parlor loomed with shellshocked and dead eyes at him momentarily before the music kicked up again in a more somber tone as he made his way to the booth.
“Coke.”
The Bartender said nothing before pulling out a glass bottle filled with a brown substance that fizzed and popped as it slid across the table. Taking a sip of it, he felt refreshed with the taste, it being a combination of water, sugar and some newfangled carbonation methods that only the brightest international folks could figure out, which automatically excluded anyone with 3 braincells (90% of Carriebean). Setting it gingerly down on the table, he overheard a conversation between two fellow soldiers.

“We’re under this fucking occupation, the dammed Amanzo Niggers brought us this defeat. I hear the president was in love with this here nigger and the dammned country went to hell and a handbasket!”
“Wasn’t that the nigger lovin Washvelt, fucking ‘Ginian fucking up everything. I mean, least now we’ve got actual food. I was getting sick of eatin’ my own shit every day for a vinegar boost, whatever the fuck that meant.”
“Nigger lovin Washvelt? Oh right that fuckin bastard of a president had that affair, I think he cheated on his wife, and with a slimey rotten nigger no less! At least we got a true leader, like Partenbre. Aint he Manticorian or Boer?”
“I think his maw was a Boer but his daddy was a Carriebeaner. Heard they died when he was a kin, so he was raised by wolfs. Now what did ye hear bout them government ficcals temptin t’ flee?”
“Oh this is one hell of a tale, first off the vice president gets cold feet, and so he attempts to escape by hot air balloon, only it gets caught in a tree and he’s hauled off somewhere. Then our Minister of the Army Jackson Potters gets killed by his own soldiers in a friendly fire incident while returning from the frontlines himself. Other government officials died either by running into enemy bullets with a sharp pen and red flag or dying by Carriebeanian carbine fire as they were fleeing.”
“So the gub’ment’s decapitated, who the ninny hell is running this shithole?”
“It was the President and a few of his military cronies that were still loyal. Last I heard he was organizing a resistance or planning to go into exile to Nihon. Honestly, I can say this without the fucking secret police coming to get me, fuck the bastard that led us into this war and fuck the Amanzo nigger lovin president that got us into even more wars and killed millions.”
Geothe then raised his glass, joining in the conversation between the two soldiers with a cheeky smile.
“I can drink to that.”
The two soldiers turned around to see an elderly man finish off his coke, with the sticky substance still dripping from his white beard and now complacent lips, turning it brownish with the color.
“Who the hell are you, grandpa? What the hell did you do, make sweaters, ya fuckin ninny?”
Geothe calmly set his drink down while reaching down his waist as he replied coolly, unholstering his colt revolver and pulling the hammer back.
“My name is Baron Von Geothe, a former general until this morning.”
Two shots rang out as both men dropped dead to the floor, with a commotion being stirred up by the startled patrons of the bar before some of them men sought to piss on the corpses of the two dead men out of desperation for a bathroom. With a calm whistle, Baron Von Geothe set down a small paper Sai on the table, followed by two small golden coins.
“I was never here.” The Bartender happily smiled as he looked the other way while polishing more glasses as the gathered crowd over the two dead bodies dispersed, with Geothe walking out of the saloon.

Some School
The Classroom was a revolution in Carriebeanian Education, being introduced by the occupying forces to enable the masses not lucky enough to be qualified to shoot a rifle and learn how to read as their education. The first classrooms proved massively chaotic, with little Carriebeanian shits running around, bitching about the teachers and frequently eating their own shit when lunchtime came around.
After numerous resignations by green foreign teachers brought in by the occupying powers, Carriebeanian teachers of the higher classes were introduced, running their rooms like bootcamp which, while seeing a reduction in the number of children eating their own shit for lunch, saw immense physical beatings on every student as a result of “corporal punishment.”

Still, the students did learn a thing or two that they would have failed to learn from their alcoholic and abusive parents. They learned multiplication tables and geometry in the most advanced cases. Any other nation’s education system was superior to the Carriebeanian education system, which was either life experiences, your wits in dark and crooked alleyways in Carriebeanian cities to avoid being robbed or killed, or what you got from the superior (in comparison to the other two options but just barely) Carriebeanian military academy, which is where many students eventually went for some schooling in reading, writing and fucking up shit.



Army of the Flag
Hallfurt
President of the Lords Arnold Paltcher Williamson sniffed at the moldy piece of pasta on his tin military hat before brushing it off the feeble wooden table set up in the tent. He had lost his appetite like Carriebean had lost the war. As the faint rumblings of his stomachs subsided akin to the faint thunderous sounds of artillery dying down from Carriebeanian batteries going silent. His second in command, an overpromoted bureaucratic snob of an aide named Charleston Bouvier winked at him slyly as she entered the tent and sat cross legged on the table.
“Hey Willy.”
“Hello Bouvier.” He said, not looking up from his bowl of pasta, now suddenly hungry from having to interact with another human being. The Carriebeanian Army of the Flag had slowly been growing with ample donations from Nihonese “businessmen” who often handed truckloads of their nation’s weaponry, the trucks and the needed gasoline for them in exchange for a few thick folders filled to the brim with Carriebeanian plantains and literal gold nuggets scavenged from Carriebeanian mountains or stolen from prostitutes. The force had been one deterrent towards several local village raiders from ransacking numerous places. The reasoning behind this for both Williamson and Bouvier was blunt. “70,000 soldiers makes any vagabond a diplomat or civilian.”
The soldiers kept sharp with mass drills and parade marching down villages, putting of shows of increasingly accurate volleys of rifle fire. Williamson had done the unthinkable thing and had gradually, after much resistance, swapping out the 1855 Colt Repeating Carbine with Nihonese armaments. When officers confronted about the increasing dependence on the Nihonese, the man was again blunt in his dismissal of them, feeding them to some local Indianumnian tigers for his sadistic amusement.

The force was an army on the lamb, being fed with the good word and nature of the local Nihonese, though many local Carriebeaners that had been diehard backers of their homeland were the most generous, albeit with useless donations of 5 gallons of their own piss for the soldiers to drink, being rejected immediately once their elaborate convoys were out of sight to avoid angering them. Still, gifts of fresh salt and pork were better than eating grass, bugs and tree bark that they would have subsided on if still loitering around in a now worse for wear Carriebean.
There had even been offers of local volunteers to “spearhead efforts to liberate the homeland”, though he sensibly turned such suicidal offers down. There was little need to gamble when you were loosing after all.

“So.. Bouvier, how’s your memoirs?”
“How’s yours?”
William’s face grinned to reveal a goofy looking smile.
“I’m on chapter three, my military service. Did you know I fought in the Carriebeanian War of 1870 as an artillery officer? In fact, I was with the unit that started the first war with the milita! I was so scared that I was going to die. And here I am now, leading a rebellion from a government in exile.”
“I do suppose we might need to function together the adequate facets of local governance.”
“What do you mean? You mean to actually prepare a government in exile? We’ve already got territory in Carriebean, we’re merely seeking a better life than captivity. You know the rumors of cannibalism and other unsavory actions right? Those damned tribunals.”
Bouvier let out a slight giggle at the last part before slinking over to a small bottle of rum that sat on the end of the table, taking a swig of it.
“I mean, that, in order to be properly recognized as some sort of legitimate government, we’d best establish currency, territory and a proper industrial base for imports and exports. Oh, and taxes too, we’ll need to pay the men something anyways.”
“But, isn’t that all a tad unrealistic? How much of this stuff have you had? honestly-“

William reached over to yank the bottle of rum away from his alcoholic female counterpart on the table, only to be intercepted by a hissing and tight gripped hand akin to a snake squeezing it’s prey, increasing the blood pressure of him, who pulled his hand back in a bit of surprise.
Without another word, Bouvier took another large swig, emptying the large container before tossing it to the floor with a thud.

[Guuj Xaat Kil]

Military Modernization Programs 2

The "Revised Naval Order for 1925 and Beyond", had been revised prior 1928 as the various wars in Indianum and Rannoria erupted, which forced a lesser amount of ships to be constructed. However, the end of the Sirvanskan conflict had allowed for another revision, allowing for another, and final revision, of the Naval Order. And now, 1928 was here, January 19, to be exact. All ships were now complete by this day. The four Hastur-class Battleships was cut down to two true battleships, due to the wars, as well as the various optimizations to their engines made possible by the joint Confederate-Warglorian scientific think-tank's research. These new engines were able to push the ship's speed from 22.75 knots to 23.2 knots. The other two battleships, which weren't completed as planned, were instead converted into aircraft carriers, named XKW Eagle and XKW Falcon. These carriers had a top speed of 24.5 knots and were capable of carrying 28 planes.

As for their siblings the Dagon and Emperor Lothar, the former was able to pump out only 2 ships due to cuts in budget and the latter's name was stripped from the original to be placed into a better design, that design being the former Warcry-class Battleship. The two Dagon class Battleships, the class' namesake Dagon, and the Undiminished, underwent multiple modifications, as this pair was given to the Confederate-Warglorian think-tank with the order of "improve it so that it won't go obsolete in a decade". The result was a faster battleship. Speeding along at 23.2 knots instead of 21 knots. As for the latter, only two were built, and also were outfitted with improvements to the engine, which resulted in them having a top speed of 22.5 knots instead of 22. As for the new Emperor Lothar-class Battleship, it too, only finished two ships, as they underwent the same treatment as the Dagon-class. Engine improvements and optimizations allowed an increase of 1 knot from its original 24 knot speed.

Then there was the pride of the Confederate Navy, the Kthanid-class Battlecruiser. Unlike the others, these ships were focused in terms of construction, and thus were able to withstand the various budget cuts that plagued the Naval Order, as a result, all four were launched. The ships underwent various modifications, most of them being made in order to comply with the Naval Treaty. The largest and most noticeable modification was the removal of its two 18 inch quad-turrets at the fore and aft. Their replacement was two 16 inch triple turrets at the fore and one similar turret at the back. Their secondary armament of eight twin-turreted 6 inch guns were increased with another pair, increasing total guns to ten. Its armament wasn't the main thing going for it, it was the class' speed. Running around the seas at 32 knots, this was somewhat amazing for a 52k ton ship. As for the fate of the first order, four Gwaii-class Battlecruisers, these were immediately scrapped.

As for the rest of the order, all of the destroyers were cut down to 20 instead of 25 being built, this was to free up more money for the Battlecruisers and Battleships. All were successfully completed. Same for the 100 Starspawn submarines that were being constructed.

Revised Naval Order for 1925 and Beyond, COMPLETED

Four Hastur-class Battleships

• XKW Hastur - COMPLETED
• XKW Penknobskot - COMPLETED
• XKW Eagle - COMPLETED AS CVE
• XKW Falcon - COMPLETED AS CVE

Four Dagon-class Battleships

• XKW Dagon - COMPLETED
• XKW Undiminished - COMPLETED
• Dagon-class 3 - NOT FINISHED
• Dagon-class 4 - NOT FINISHED

Four Emperor Lothar-class Battleships

• XKW Emperor Lothar - COMPLETED
• XKW Emperor Iohannes II - COMPLETED
• Emperor Lothar-class 3 - NOT FINISHED
• Emperor Lothar-class 4 - NOT FINISHED

Four Kthanid-class Battlecruisers

• XKW Kthanid - COMPLETED
• XKW Derbamoc - COMPLETED
• XKW Triec - COMPLETED
• XKW Nunavut - COMPLETED

20 Deep One Class Destroyers
20 Danger II Class Destroyers
20 Duelist Class Destroyer
100 Starspawn Class Submarines
ALL COMPLETED

12 Capital Ships Completed, 160 Other Ships Completed, Revised NO 1925 - SUCCESS

It wasn't the navy that got all the attention, the army as well, was subject to a good increase. The in-construction Army of the West, to be stationed in Shishiri and nearby areas, was finally complete. All 300,813 men in this army were now fully trained and ready to be placed into the reserves. They would be shipped out to Ruskland's territories in Indianum by February 5.

---

Dealings

An intriguing deal was sent to the Confederate embassy in Nihon, and was wired directly to the Emperor in R'lyeh.

Treaty Concerning Sale of Nihonese Hallfurt and Opus to the Confederacy of Ruskland

As agreed upon by the powers of the Confederacy of Ruskland and the Nihonese Empire, the following are the terms for the Treaty Concerning Sale of Nihonese Hallfurt and Opus to the Confederacy of Ruskland:

1. The Empire of Nihon will sell the territories of Hallfurt and Opus to the Confederacy of Ruskland.
1a) Let it be known with this sale, Nihonese ships are allowed to dock in Rusklandr ports of the territory currently known as Hallfurt, should it be occupied by at minimum three capital ships.
1b) Listed in Condition 3 of the Treaty, the Confederacy of Ruskland will assist and remove all Nihonese Forces and citizens from Opus.
1c) No harm by officials of the Confederacy of Ruskland is to come to Nihonese citizens that choose to stay in Opus or Hallfurt and will result in immediately ending the non aggression pact.
2. The Confederacy of Ruskland shall in return give ownership of the Ironton Isles to the Empire of Nihon, and pay 6.8 billion Aclusian Pounds over the course of 8 years.
2a)Should the said amount fail to be paid, it will result in potential military action and other measures.
2b) The Confederacy of Ruskland shall be allowed to deploy troops and dock ships in the Ironton should there be enough space and at minimum each port must have no less than 3 capital ships.
2c) Harm by officials of the Nihonese Empire to Rusklandr citizens will result in immediately ending the non aggression pact, and Rusklandr citizens shall be assisted in leave, should they choose to leave.
3) The Confederacy of Ruskland shall assist and remove all Nihonese Forces and their equipment from what is currently called Opus.
4)The Confederacy of Ruskland and the Empire of Nihon shall agree to a 10 year long non aggression pact, which can be voided by all reasons listed above and what is considered aggressive military actions.
4a) Any future military cooperation is supported.
4b) All parties have the right to void the non aggression pact should their claim against the other have been properly investigated by a third party or the ICS.
Signed, Emperor Hirohito
Prime Minister Naruki Hashimoto

"Most intriguing, they practically gave me a solid foothold in Indianum," Lothar noted, "Not to mention being able to choke Nihonese Shishiri with ease, why, I think I'll accept this". And so, he wrote up a response. Upon completion, it was given to a messenger, who would pass it on to the Nihonese embassy in R'lyeh.

Official Communique to Nihon

---

ENCRYPTED

This communique is our answer to your proposed dealings just yesterday. And we graciously accept, no edits will be made, this proposal shall be accepted as is.

Xaadas Tlagáay t'álg hlan-gwáay!

And so the XKW Monstrous, XKW Demonslayer, XKW Eternal Crusader of the Monstrous-class Dreadnoughts were sent to the only major port in the Ironton Islands, Blackrock, to fulfill Condition 2b.

[The Hoosier Alliance]

When January of 1928 finally came about, the Hoosier military saw a grand expansion. The last wave of recruitment for the Hoosier Army brought manpower to 3,470,192, in sixty-four infantry divisions and twenty armored divisions, along with a single marine division. Another batch of orders for the construction of warships was also put in, with demands to add five more battleships, thirty more cruisers, fifty more destroyers, thirty more corvettes, and one hundred submarines, with orders being made to various Manticoran companies as needed.

After determining the populations of Aryshtakova and the newly annexed Carribean territories, the population of Iron Guard Hoosier has risen to 348,282,114. Since it's occupation three months ago, the Iron Guard government has been able to make good progress in reforming the new Carribean territories, with school attendance at all time highs, education at levels never before seen, and people eating real food and turning away from their feces based diet, though many still cling to it, forcing the Hoosier government to outlaw eating feces or drinking urine. The economy, while still faltering and highly inflated, was bettering, with the Carribean currency deflating each month and showing promise.

The infrastructure of the states were also improving, and helping people find honest work. The war torn cities of Carribean had new life injected into them, with repairs putting up buildings and roads that had been knocked down by endless war. While it was very troublesome, the situation in Carribean was improving and the local Totalist organizations were seeing huge support and membership levels within the populace.

The Hoosier Army Air Corps was to be increased, with 500 fighters and 500 bombers being ordered for construction. Another round of expansion of the Hoosier Army was in place, with an additional thirty-six infantry divisions and five more armored divisions being recruited.

When the Hoosier government learned of the sale of Hallfurt and Opus from Nihon to Ruskland, the Hoosiers decided to act quickly, drawing up a proposal and sending it to the Ruskland government.

Treaty for the Sale of Opus and Hallfurt

The government of Iron Guard Hoosier wishes to extend a deal to the Ruskland government for the sale and transfer of ownership of the provinces known now as Opus and Hallfurt.

1.The Ruskland government will sell the states of Opus and Hallfurt to Iron Guard Hoosier for the lump sum of twelve million Aclusian pounds.
2.Ruskland will receive two ports in occupied Carribean territory, one in the state of Brasberge and one in the state of Landstreicher, which shall be returned by the year 2000 to the rightful owners of said territories.
3. A single port in the state of Hallfurt will remain in Ruskland ownership until the year 2000, to be returned to the rightful owners of said state.

With the proposal sent, the Hoosier government waited for the Rusklandrs to agree to the deal they had crafted behind closed doors right when the Nihonese had offered the land to Ruskland in the first place.

[TENNOHEIKA BANZAI NIHON]

Imperial Palace
Gokyo, Nihon
January 1928

The Imperial Nihonese Navy had just seen several great developments in its submarine and destroyer programs, advancing and building multiple new submarines in the Kaidai Class submarines. But this was not the focus of the Imperial Navy, as the latest destroyers had been completed. 24 of the Fubuki-class destroyers, said by experts across the world to be the "first modern destroyer" and "capable to match enemies even in the next decade." The ship was the fastest the Navy had, at 38 knots, and with its large size, powerful engines, high speed, large radius of action, and unprecedented armament, it gave these destroyers the firepower similar to many light cruisers in other navies. Her guns were dual purpose guns that could be elevated to 70 degrees, making them the world's first destroyers with this ability.

This was not the most exciting part though, for the Imperial Navy Headquarters Staff, as recently, the Battleships and Aircraft Carriers that had been started back in 1922 had finally been finished, adding two Suruga Class Battleships to the fleet, and two new Kaga Class Aircraft Carriers capable of carrying 90 aircraft each.

With such additions, Nihon would now be able to begin moving the older Torpedo Boat Destroyers to either be scrapped or serve in secondary roles in the anti-piracy program or in the Manchuko Navy. They could also be sent to the Takeshima or Ironton to serve in the role as a patrol craft.

But with the latest dealings with Ruskland, Nihon had extremely profited, and would soon see its troops in Opus returning home. And with the sale of these territories, it would allow to the army to decrease in size to allow the Navy for a bigger budget in its expansion programs. As a whole, the sale not only earned 6 billion, but also saved a significant amount of money. Plans to completely replace all 55 of the older Torpedo Boat Destroyers were being enabled with the new source of funding from the land sale. The new money would be slowly, and wisely spend on defense.

It was planned to build 30 more of the Fubuki Class by 1931 and to start work on the latest planned light carrier, the Ryūjō Class. Plans involved starting construction of two of them in 1929 and completion by 1931. Plans were underway to produce more battleships for the fleet, as designers looked into Warglorian and Aclusian designs and the possibility of building more Number 13 Class Battleships or that of another class. With the latest Rusklandr battle cruisers capable of 32 knots, plans were made to build more of the Furukata Class Heavy Cruisers, capable of 34 knots and having fair armament.

But the Army wasn't neglected either. The newest Type 89 I-Go medium tank design was slowly beginning to enter production, and tank divisions located in Nihon have begun to drill more and more, working with infantry and developing strategies and tactics to best use the current tank divisions.

Meanwhile, three coastal defense battleships of the third fleet had begun to travel to Hallfurt to one of the major ports to fulfill the terms of the deal. While in the Ironton, new ports where being built and more defense ships were being deployed there. Troops were being readied to move out of Hallfurt, with orders as transports set out to pick them and their equipment up and send it to Manchuko or Shishiri.

St. Osloverg, Building of the International Council of States
1928

Sitting a bit off the entrance was Nick Popoluski age 16 had gotten himself mixed up in a bad group. He was quite poor, and had hear of a group that paid its members well. He now stood, armed with his Manticorian-made sub machine gun, watching as the cars with each delegation left. He had recently began the line of work with the Arengin Chapter of the Yakuza, and his job was simple, fire at the Aydinirian delegation car as it left. He sat waiting, as several other more experienced men of different nationalities, all but Nihonese took their positions. Nervous, he peeked out and he saw the lead car. He hadn't been specified which one to shoot, but still raised his gun. He watched one of the other men throw a grenade. He watched as the others open fire and shaking, squeezed the trigger and fired wildly, before throwing his gun down and taking off in a sprint running. Not bothering to look back at the chaos as it unfolded.

Prince Nobuhito was still in the building when he heard the blast of a grenade and the pops in the distance, and gave a grim nod to one of his guards. Four of them set off to eliminate the "threat", while the rest rallied arround to protect him and the other diplomats. But on the inside, he was smiling. The Aydinirian would regret ever saying such things.

[The Hoosier Alliance]

With the recent talks and dealings with Ruskland, it was agreed to allow Nihonese troops pass through the Hoosier state of Aryshtakova, with Hoosier and troops under the command of General Larmos standing down. Hoosier and local forces, once bordering Opus in case of the outbreak of war, were moved and scattered throughout the state, setting up garrisons in appropriate locations in order to monitor the Nihonese and ensure the protection of the state. Once the Nihonese began their long march home, they would be under the watch of the Hoosier Army in the region.

Aryshtakova
The sun was beating down on the large desert state, inhospitable to many, other than those who have lived there for generations and those with the proper protections. The marching Nihonese had neither of those advantages. Instead, the malnourished and dehydrated soldiers walked home, while the worst cases riding in trucks and carts, but many still died on the way. A line of scattered corpses followed the Nihonese everywhere they went.

The foreign soldiers were made to march in many different groups, in order to prevent any harm to the region they may want to inflict as they left their old positions in Opus. Few men carried rifles themselves, with many being too weak to carry their weapons. Luckily, they were safe under the watchful gaze of the scattered Hoosier garrisons. Or so they thought.




Erik Novák laid on the top of the sand dune, binoculars pressed against his eyes, and observed the far away Hoosiers as they marched in the scorching sun. Novák looked to his right, only his eyes peering out of from the cloth that wrapped around his head and face, protecting him from the sun and identification, and nodded to his counterpart. They both collected their rifles and went down the dune towards their horses. They mounted the creatures and galloped back to their base camp.

They rode into the camp a few minutes away, passing the several armed men keeping watch, and dismounted, heading into a nearby tent. They stopped before the group of men assembled before giving their report.

"It appears our intelligence is correct," began Novák, "The Hoosier Army from the border of Opus is indeed marching back to their strongholds farther east. They seem to be without much water. We saw several of them collapse and be left behind by their counterparts."

The men they reported to smiled before one of them spoke, "Good. Then the rest of our plan can unfold. Ready the men. We will ride to the pass and head them off. Hopefully, the other cells will be doing the same for their targets. We will make the Hoosiers bleed. One day, brothers, we will be free once more. Sirvanska will rise from the ashes!"

The men cheered before they exited the tent, returning to their horses and rallying the several hundred men from their tents. They all made for their horses and rode out to their ambush location.



Nearly an hour later, the Sirvanskans were ready at their positions. Below them, the road snaked through a small canyon, giving the insurgents a good vantage point overlooking the way the Hoosiers would be coming. It was far enough away from the nearest Hoosier garrison, so they were confident they could take them on before the reinforcements could arrive. Within another twenty minutes, they could see the marching soldiers.

As the men arrived just below the hidden Sirvanskans, the insurgents opened fire. The crack of rifles terrified the soldiers, who attempted to return fire. However, many of the men were too weak to do so. A handful of grenades and rockets exploded, killing small groups of the dehydrated soldiers and destroying trucks and wagons filled with the weak and injured. The Sirvanskans would show the same mercy the Hoosiers had shown them.

The soldiers in the canyon tried to shout and fight back, but they were too weak to truly do either. It was a massacre. Within fifteen minutes, all the soldiers lay dead, and the Sirvanskans cheered as they rode down to collect weapons and supplies.

As Novák approached the dead body of an enemy, he pulled up his head to get a look at the final expression of corpse. He gasped and dropped the man's head back into the sand. Similar gasps could be heard all up and down the slaughtered convoy as the men realized their mistake. Not a single Hoosier laid in the canyon. Instead, it was a sandy grave for nearly two hundred Nihonese soldiers. The same could be said for several roads that had been hit all up and down the state of Aryshtakova. The largest joint operation of Sirvanskans insurgents ended with no Hoosiers dead, but many slaughtered Nihonese troops.

Before the men in the canyon could retreat from their mistake, they heard the thunder of hoof beats and the whooping and hollering of the charging Hoosier cavalry as it crested the hill that lead down into the canyon. They would hear the same coming from behind. The Sirvanskans were boxed in by the numerically superior and better armed Hoosier Army.

The same could be said about every single other Sirvanskans war party that had descended on the Nihonese. They attacked men travelling through Hoosier territory, and now they would pay the ultimate price.

The last thing going through Novák's mind before a cavalry sabre pierced his heart was him wondering how their intel could have been so wrong.

[Breyburg]

Melva, Socialist Republic of Hettausa
January 21st, 1928

Bearing Teeth

Melva, Hettausa, capital of the SRH.

Only a mere week into the existence of the Socialist Republic Hettausa, has it’s borders been violated. Members of the Hoosier Army have chased Sirvanskan rebels into a small, quaint and quiet village in southwestern Hettausa. The soldiers had no means of determining who was a rebel, and who was simply a civilian. During the firefight, 59 civilians were killed and another 13 were injured.

“These Hoosier men have violated our sovereignty, our way of living! Reparations must be paid!”, Miran Uvarov stood on the steps of Melva Capital. “We wish not to war with these men as it is not necessary nor do we have the means, we just wish for Iron Guard Hoosier to recognize that this horrific event occurred, and for an apology.

“On another note, the Socialist Republic of Hettausa has no ties to the insurgents within Aryshtakova. That is not our way, and it will never be our way. These insurgents deserve no respect and do not speak for Sirvanskans, only themselves. True Sirvanskans do not act on emotion neither hatred, only on logic and reason.”

The crowd cheered. They loved him. He brought them freedom, and they were sure he would bring glory in return.

“The Breyburgians are sending aid, weapons, and trainers to help us build a powerful military! Yes, the creators of Varietism themselves deem our cause worthy of their aid! They will see us through, and we shall do the same.

“Never again will another military breach our borders in such a fashion, never again!"

Miran Uvarov, President of the Socialist Republic of Hettausa.

Breyburgians Send Aid! Long Live Hettausa!
January 21st, 1928

The Socialist Allied States of Breyburg will be sending 300 rifles to be used by our military, $204,000 in collans, and the triumphant General Mark Hubbard, who lead the Breyburgian military into battle against the Carriebeanians in the first Carriebean War.

Village of Rechyvy, Southwestern Hettausa
January 19th, 1928

A child stood before her mother, shot dead in cold blood. It was surreal. The one she grew up loving, being loved by and living with, now gone. She was devastated. No one to feed her, no one to protect her. The man who shot her, laughed as she perished. The child did not understand. How could he laugh?

A veil of sadness fell upon Rechyvy as quickly as the men left.

Only some of the victims of the massacre.

London, Aclus
January 25th, 1928

Bernard Norris, the Vice President of the SASB, was being transported across the city of London when he caught the eye of the Aclusian fascist, Oswald Mosley, speaking before a crowd. The Breyburgians rode the fence on fascists. It really depends on how they treat their people. Norris did not want to see Aclus fall to fascist.

Norris was in London for talks with the Aclusian military to help with continued rearmament of the Breyburgian military, and for aid from the Aclusians. Breyburg hopes to achieve an even better military than it has now, on the level of Aclus, Manticore, or Arengin.

Bernard Norris, Vice President of the Socialist Allied States of Breyburg.

[Nasaira]

 

-Daelu, Nasarian Empire

The city bustled with activity as foreigners and merchants went about making trades and deals that would help to spread Nasarian goods to around the world. Ever since the empire left it's isolationist ideas and entered onto the international stage trade and wealth flowed through the ports. Trade goods came from all across the world as Nasairan silks flowed to nations across the world. The centuries of isolation had allowed the silk craftsmen to perfect their techniques, as Nasairan silk goods became highly sought after.

As the merchants went about their daily activities, business of another kind was being made, one that would truly see Nasaira enter onto the world stage and truly see it's leaders dream of empire become a reality. A conference had been called by the prime minister and the rest of the cabinet.

Prime minister Yáo Liwei was sitting at the head of the large ornate wooden table surrounded by the other ministers as a large map of the world laid out in front of them. The prime minister being the direct representation of the emperor himself had ultimate control of all matters of the empire, when he spoke he spoke with the voice of the emperor. Across from the prime minister sat General Fāng Donghai, in his tan dress uniform with his gold and red insignia on his collar that designated him as the general of the army.

The prime minister raised his hand and that single action caused everyone else in the room to become quite and listen with the upmost respect. "Gentlemen the army has proposed a plan that would allow us to gain land concessions. The current war between the Waglorian Reich and Transvaal has been a bloody affair, one in which the Reich would like assistance. In exchange for our assistance then we would be granted land concessions. The army feels that this is the direction that our empire needs to move, I however do not. As such we will not be sending any forces, we will focus on building our nation and focus on trade for now. Our merchants and their goods are highly sought after all over the world and we will give our focus on them. "

All of the ministers agreed, however the general had a look of rage. However he did not speak out, instead he asked to be excused and left the conference.

Bill: intervention on behalf of the Reich
Views:

(Pro) this will give our empire a chance to expand, and give our army valuable experience.

(Anti) this war has nothing to do with us and what we stand to gain is very small in comparison.

Vote count out of a 35:
Aye: 8
Nay: 27

Result: does not pass

  

-Piclia Naval Base, Nasarian Empire

Piclia Naval base acts as the headquarters for the whole Nasarian naval forces, with Admiral Jiǎ Zhen acting as admiral of naval operations, the highest rank an officer can achieve in the Nasarian navy. Admiral Jiǎ Zhen had been given the task of overseeing the construction of a joint base for Nasarian and Aculus forces in the south of the main Nasarian island.

The first of the Aculus advisors had arrived and was being housed at Piclia Naval Base. The second main objective that had been given to the Admiral was overseeing the build up of the navy.

Bill: establish a 600 ship navy
Views:

(Pro) with us being an island nation we need a strong navy to ensure our sovereignty.

(Anti) this will be a huge expense on the empire.

Vote count out of a 100:
Aye: 88
Nay: 12

Result: Passes

DIPLOMATIC MESSAGE:

OFFICIAL DIPLOMATIC MESSAGE FROM THE NASARIAN IMPERIUM

From: -Tán Shan, Minister of Foreign Affairs -
To: -NIHON, FOREIGN MINISTRY

-To our brothers and sisters, our Glorious Emperor wishes you well and hopes this message finds you in good health. Unfortunately this letter is written with the upmost seriousness and we hope that you fully understand. The recent hostilities between Nihon and the Aydinir empire has caused some concern, Nasaira has trade with both of these nations, as such we do not wish to see our trade hurt. As such we have decided to offer military escorts to Aydinir and the guarentee of safety within 250 nautical miles of Nasaira. Please do not take this as we are favoring one over the other but rather the emperor wishes to see peace flourish in our region. -

[Aclus]

Rise of Mosley
1918, Ruskland Front
Days since the Bog

Sergeant Eric Stewart of the Hoosier Royal Army leaned his back against the dirt side of the trench, gripping his rifle between his legs as he sat, trying to take calming breaths as the Aclusian and Hoosier artillery fired from their positions towards the Ruskland trench line. He looked over to Lieutenant Oswald Mosley, his friend and superior officer. Stewart had been Mosley's second since he was promoted to lieutenant, and they had been fighting together for well over two years.

Mud and dirt caked Stewart's face and clothing, serving as nearly permanent stains on him, as was the same for the rest of the men serving. Stewart quickly peeked over the trench, peering into the crater and barbed wire choked no mans land, observing nothing more than hundreds, if not thousands, of corpses belonging to the Hoosiers, Aclusians, and Rusklandrs. It seemed fitting that two warring sides should share the same grave for so many of their dead sons. It was almost poetic to Stewart.
He brought his head down once more and turned to Mosley. "You know, sir," he said grimly, "I think the mass grave separating us and the Rusklandrs is the very symbol of this war. Men, volunteers and conscripts, lie in the elements achieving nothing. Some were here to fight for King and Country, while others were here because the gallows was the other option. The same could be said for the dead Hoosiers, Aclusians, and Rusklandrs. And yet, they all share the same grave. We think we're on the right side, but in reality, everyone here is for one reason...to fight for a monarchy that sees the thousands dead for a trench line or two as a fucking victory." He took a deep breath before going on, "This war has no point. No matter who 'wins'," he made the air quotes with his fingers, "The results are the same for both sides. Thousands dead for only a few inches. In your opinion, how many gallons of blood are equal to one inch? To those kings sitting on their thrones, I believe it's any amount. If it's one gallon or a million, they'll pay that price with blood and souls of their subjects."

Mosley looked over to his friend, his second, and stated, without looking him in the eye, "Don't lose faith brother. God is with us." Stewart shook his head, adverting his gaze, "Would God want His children to slaughter one another for some mud and blood soaked land that He created for us?"

Mosely said nothing.

Mosley stood still to his gaze over the firestep of the Trench covered in muddy sandbags that have been riddled with bullet holes. Staring into the deep gloomy, muddy and filthy abyss that was no mans land.

It had been 6 years since the war started, 4 years since he enlisted and everything he had been doing had just seemed like it was his duty to his King and countrymen, but as the years followed suit, his own conscience began to overwhelm his reasoning. To make matters even worst was the wavering of Sergeant Stewart next to him, questioning the purpose of the war and their seemingly never ending orders from Generals that stayed in warm chateaux.

"What have we done over the last 4 years, we've been here in these trenches dying in the hundreds for what?" Mosley thought to himself, turning to his right to only reveal his second, the disturbed Hoosier sergeant Stewart and the mud soaked rabble he was to command. So little of whom were left since the wars start.

Eyeing them, everything began to sink in, walls in his mind drew closer of doubt for the monarchy and all the death such foolish leadership had caused over the warring years that seemed to fly by, as any sort of reasoning Oswald had to combat his doubts were swept aside.
He then turned back to Sergeant Stewart, with eyes of remorse. "You have a point, and no matter how hard it is for me to agree with such statements, it must be so. We've been thrown like lamb to the slaughter" Mosley said as he hunched down into a ammo crate and clasped his face into his hands.

Stewart leaned over to Mosely, placing his hand on his shoulder, "Stay strong, brother. All we can do is fight. We don't have to fight for a far away monarch, but we do have to fight for each other. We have to fight for the men we command, we have to fight for the sons we share a trench with, and we must fight for the fathers we charge along side. This war has nothing to do with the common people of our nations, but these battles are fought by them. We must remember that and we must keep our fighting spirit."

Mosley grasped Stewart's muddy hand that laid on his shoulder, taking in the comfort offered by their camaraderie. "Thanks mate, you are right, we cant give up now, or we'd be giving up on every one of our men who depend on us here" Oswald said as he stood back up and looked over the trench, grabbing a flare gun then peering into the deep dark grey abyss of no mans land.

He pointed the gun up and fired into the night sky, only to reveal multiple silhouettes advancing torwards the line.

"SECTION STAND TWO!" Oswald screamed as the sounds of rifle and machine gun fire filled the air, followed by the thumping of shells.

Sergeant Stewart quickly went to his knees, shouldering his rifle and looking up at his commanding officer. He gave him a small nod before he stood, resting his weapon on the sandbags, took aim, and fired, killing a Ruskland soldier. He brought another round into the chamber, aimed once more, and fell another Rusklandr. He ducked quickly as several bullets kicked up dirt around him, forcing him to find cover.

All around him, the reports of rifles sounded. Machinegun fire started up and as Stewart peeked back over to take aim, he saw a line of charging soldiers fall as bullets ripped them apart. He fired again, and again, and again, killing several more enemies.

"We're dry!"

Stewart jerked his head to the left, spotting the machinegun crew shouting out for more ammunition. He took action, bolting for a box of ammo sitting on pallets, away from the mud and water, and ran it to them, ducking his head as an artillery round burst overhead.
He slid next to them, placing the box in the gunners reach. The two men quickly began to reload and fire again. Before Stewart could take his position near the lieutenant again, the second man on the gun, entrusted with timely reloads, grabbed his arm.

Stewart looked into the man's eyes before he quickly realized he was a mere boy, not much older than eighteen. "Sir," he said, shakily, "I don't know if I can do this. What if they break through?" Stewart grabbed the boy and brought him in close, "They won't. You're a Hoosier goddamn it, act like it. If you don't fight, they'll kill you for sure. Make sure they're the ones making the sacrifice for their country, not you for yours."

The boy relaxed his grip before letting go completely and muttered, "Yes sir," before he turned to grab another belt of ammo. Stewart ran back to his position next to Mosely, taking cover next to him and firing off a few more rounds.

"We'll hold sir. I'm sure of it," said simply.

He heard shouting coming from their right and looked up to see a charging Rusklandr, his rifle raised and bayonet fixed. Stewart fired, ending the brave man's attack, right before another jumped on top of him, attempting to bring the bayonet down on his throat. Stewart was able to redirect the momentum of the blade into the dirt, pulled out his Webley, and fired a shot into the man's head. As this was happening, Mosely fired his own pistol, striking three Rusklandrs as they jumped into the trench to their right, before throwing a grenade into a crater and killing several men that fired from its cover. They looked at each other, out of breath, before they both popped back up together, firing every bullet they could.

It was chaos as the swarms of Rusklandr infantry kept coming in their never ending waves, though the Aclusian-Hoosier line held it's own.

Oswald emptied his revolver, only to mount the Vickers Machine gun that had been knocked out just prior. Firing alongside Sergeant Stewart's rifle section a hailstorm of bullets into the densely packed Rusklandr assault, giving the men enough time to recollect themselves and strengthen their defensive positions.

"We almost got them lads!" Oswald yelled out, with a slight chuckle to his voice showing his madness on the Machine gun. Then turning back to the Hoosier Sergeant he yelled out

"Stewart! Bring up more ammu---" to only be disrupted a shell landing nearby the machine gun emplacement. Silencing Mosley and his ferocity.

Armistice Day
Peace of our time
Late 1921

Shoes laced, picking up his socks higher then dragging the pant leg over. Now walking to the mirror to straighten his tie and his officer belt and sword. Then adjusting the knee brace that allowed his right leg movement, he walked towards the door, putting on his cap and exiting the hotel room.

Today was a momentous day, the war had ended and the claws of military service had let go of the millions of men that had served through the past 9 years. Men and their families celebrated in the streets, women and those that stayed home filled the streets singing the song "Rule Aclusia" through the air.

Oswald however, was in a more glum mood. Meeting up with Sergeant Stewart outside the hotel, they were due for dinner reservations with their wives at a local resteraunt around the way.

"Afternoon Sergeant" Oswald said as they walked in sync

Stewart tried to enjoy his cigarette as he waited outside the hotel for lieutenant Mosely, however that proved difficult. All up and down the street, people celebrated the end to the war. Most people saw a grateful, victorious, people celebrating a glorious war against lesser nations, but Stewart saw it for what it was. He saw pawns cheering for their masters, the men who sent hundreds of thousands to die for the elite few in a pointless conflict for land and riches. Riches that would help only those who gave the orders, not those that received them.

"Afternoon Sergeant."

Stewart turned to greet his friend with a smile on his face as he flicked the cigarette onto the ground, crushing it with his boot as he walked with Mosely. "Afternoon, lieutenant," he said, "But it's 'Afternoon Colonel' now." He stuck his shoulder out to show the new insignia marking his rank within the Hoosier Army. "I'll accept that salute now," he said jokingly with a chuckle. They walked for a moment, passing the many Aclusian subjects. One man, a soldier still in uniform, spat at the feet of Stewart as they passed him.

"Coward," he sneered.

When the man passed, Stewart sighed. "All those years fighting for a king in a far off land, and I'm treated like a beast by my once brothers-in-arms. All for the crime of my people...seeing reason." He was, of course, referencing the overthrow of King Hamilton back in 1918 and the exit of the Hoosiers from the Great War. "What about you brother? I haven't heard from you much since I was reassigned to oversee the embassy here in London."

Oswald limped alongside the Hoosier Colonel, conversing about many things as they catched up on how eachother were doing. Upon walking by the Aclusian soldier who had spat at Stewart, Oswald turned around and ordered the man to apologize, with no avail as he was too intoxicated to understand anyway.

Turning back to Stewart, Oswald apologized about the situation, saying "Dont worry about them, they're just emotional since its over" Then as the pair walked down closer torwards Oswalds car, they took a quick break, as Oswald had needed to catch his breath.

"Haven't been to well I'm afraid, when you left and I was wounded, a lot of the lads didnt make it. Now I'm stuck with this limp in my right leg hobbling around like a idiot. To add to that fire, everyone here is acting the same as when the war started, with the social elite still claiming their spots on top of the bloody government!" Mosley yelled out as he threw his cane at his car, holding the side of the car door panting in dismay.
Then as he relieved a sigh of emotion, Oswald followed. "All my friends are dead besides you Stewart, and the men responsible for this bloody war are still control everything, a bloody outrage"

Stewart placed a calming hand on Oswald's shoulder, "I know, brother. They were my friends too. Those people may be in charge now, but things can change. Look at Hoosier, at the Iron Guard Party."

Mosely shook his head, "And what can we do here, Eric? Things in Aclus aren't like things in Hoosier. In case you haven't realized, we 'won' the war. The king brought us 'victory', don't ya know?"

Stewart bent over to look his friend in the eye, grabbing him by his shoulders and making him look him in the eye, "Change," he began, "Begins with you. With us. Look at Hoosier. It wasn't the elite taking power from the elite. It was men like us, soldiers. Jones, our Marshal, worked his way to the top from a grunt in the Royal Army. He saw there was change to be had, and that's why he joined and advocated for the IGP. If you want change, you don't wait for the iron to become hot to strike, you make the iron hot. If you want change, brother, you need to make it happen. People followed you to battle, ready to live or die based on your commands. How can you think you can't lead people into an age of reform?"

Stewart stood up and offered Mosely his hand, "Come. Our wives are waiting. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to see mine after so long."

Oswald recalibrated his brace, making a squeaking sound as it got back in place. He then shrugged his shoulders off and took a deep breath.

"Its been to long since I've seen my Sumie (her nickname), let us get going" Oswald said as he sat in the passenger seat.

Dinner at the Rutz
New Life
November 18th, 1926

Oswald walked up the steps to the dining hall where the beautiful gold laced table had been set for him and his entourage that followed him along. John Naracott, Adam Silva, and Wilson Chandler of the Aclusian Labor party.

The many other dining guests of the resteraunt however only recognized the presence of Oswald, giving cheers of joy and approval of his work. Filling the resteraunt with a positive attitude.

When the group got up the steps they were then greeted by a group of Hoosier men clasped around a single man sitting down on the table, in his Hoosier Blue uniform.

Oswald was then the first to walk forward.

"If it isn't my second in command, stand at attention Soldier, General present!" Mosley shouted subtly in a joking manner.

General Eric Stewart smiled as his old friend greeted him. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the great Oswald Mosely! I hear you're kind of a big deal around here." He brought his friend into a hug, "I've missed you, brother," he whispered. "These men," he said, motioning to the Hoosier officers and IGP officials, "Have been dying to see the face," he raised his voice as he said the next words, "of the new age of Aclus!" Many people gave another cheer, including the Hoosier guests.
"Thank you for inviting me, Oswald. It's been far too long since I've seen you last. My wife sends her regards. She misses you and the missus. You know how she and Karla were! Thick as thieves and gossips like no one else. She would have loved to come, but she's entertaining guests of her own. I guess that's what we all signed up for when we entered the realm of politics!"

Oswald smiled after he and General Stewart had greeted and shook the fellow Hoosier officers hands.

"It is always a pleasure to see you my friend, I would've never believed we'd make such a difference over the last years, youngest member of Parliament, youngest General of Hoosier aye?" Oswald chuckled as he and his entourage followed suit with joy.

"Ah yes, Sumie couldn't make it either as she is ill, though with me are my fellow associates of the Aclusian Labor Party" he then motioned to the fellow suited men behind him wearing their black suits and red arm bands.

After the pleasantries, Oswald then walked towards the large round table and allowed everyone to their seats, as food and wine then came and filled the setting.

"All this posh food and wine makes me sick sometimes you know Eric, I always question whether I'd soon resign my status of MP and get a working class statute" Oswald said jokingly as he raised his glass to one of his associates who found the sentiment hilarious.

Stewart chuckled, "I'll toast to that!" A few others around Stewart laughed as well, but one brave Hoosier officer, a young twenty-something member of the IGP by the name of Lee Burris, piped up, "I mean no offense, but what do you know of the working class, Mr. Mosely?"

Oswald had pulled from his cigarette as he finished chuckling with the rest of everyone at the table, then exhaling as the Young Hoosier officer had asked his infamous question, silencing the whole table.

Oswald looked at the man for a cold second, up and down for a moments notice, he then took a sip of his wine and began to talk after he has scuffed it down.

"I fought along side the Working man in the trenches of Rannoria and Ruskland, to which I admired his skill and determination. His strength to power through any obstacle. Learning they are the type of men we need for our great movement. Not this rabble that sits and ages in Parliament. That my young naive friend, is what I know of the working class"

The young man turned a shade of red as he cleared his throat and looked at his cup while a few, including Stewart, laughed quietly or looked towards Mosely with admiration. "Forgive him," Stewart said, "He knows not of the struggles we've faced in our lives." Stewart stood and spoke louder, "Much like the elites that control this country and those that once controlled mine. He is reasonably suspicious of those that claim to speak on the behalf the Working Man, considering that most of his life he was told what to think and what to one day die for, much like you all. Those that sit in their ivory towers know NOTHING about what the everyday man faces to keep them wealthy and fat. However, Oswald here knows better than us all what it takes. If anyone here is fit to speak about the Working Man, it is HIM. It is him because he was, no is, the Working Man. A toast!"

Stewart raised his glass, as did everyone else, and said, "To the everyday man of Aclus, of Hoosier, and all the others. To the men that sustain our people and to those that will lead this nation, as they have lead mine, into an age of reform!"

Cries of "Here, here!" sounded as everyone drank in gratitude.

[Guuj Xaat Kil]

A coffee shop in Warhall

"Looking as frazzled as ever, Ian." a man with glasses told the person entering the coffee shop, which was devoid of other people except the two and the barista, oddly enough, "Although your appearance, as much as I want to speak about it, is not what we're here to talk about.". A nearby fizzle and pop, and the distinct smell of coffee began wafting through the air. A few moments later, the man who had entered, Ian, had seated himself, and not long after, the barista placed two cups of black coffees, and a sandwich, on the two men's table. "Right, back to business," the person resumed after consuming about half of his sandwich, "Remember that meeting, and ambition we had back then old friend?.".

"Pretty innovative design you've got there," a much younger Ian said to the man with glasses, "I think this could be put into good use somewhere.". A slight pause, before the younger man with eyewear looked up and replied, "You really think so friend?". Ian looked at him with slight disbelief, "I'm being honest here, your design is well thought out.". To this the designer looked at him with a somewhat equal amount of disbelief, before shaking his head, and sticking out a hand, "Well, thanks. I'm Loup Artassaut, yours?". The man shook his hand, "Name's Iacovic Ozeroy.". Now that introductions were out of the way, they could talk in a somewhat relaxed tone.

"Who's the company using this design?" Iacovic asked. "Aero," replied Loup, "And if I'm in luck, Ian- you don't mind if I call you that do you?" he interrupted himself a bit before resuming, "Anyway, this will become the primary plane of the Ruskland-Preubenr air force.". A muted "nice" was what he got in response.

The discussion went on for quite a while, steering every now and then into the personal, and increasingly so as the conversation began to persist even further. Eventually, time caught up to them. "Oh would you look at that," Iacovic interrupted as they we're about to discuss the practicality of having a shoggoth for a pet, "Almost nightfall, well, time for me to go friend.". As he began walking outside, he stopped to look back at Loup, "I hope that flyer becomes the best out there in the Empire," he told him with a slight smile on his face, "And that you get credit for that plane of yours.". And so his new friend left. And his mind wandered, "You know, I haven't had that good of a conversation since my teen years..." He thought. Then he began packing up, his wife would be hounding his ass if he went home late.

---

"A11, A REVOLUTION" Was what the corporate newspaper said, but there seemed to be a lack of "designed by Loup Artassaut" or any variation of the phrase anywhere in the paper. "Odd" was all Iacovic could think about. His brief thought was interrupted by the barista placing a coffee on his table, he said a quick "thank you" before resuming his reading. And for the second, and last time, he was interrupted by the arrival of a person in the cafe, sounded by the ringing of a bell. The aspiring entrepreneur tilted down his paper slightly, and saw the Loup Artassaut that was conspicuously absent from the newspaper. "Ah, Loup," he called out to his acquaintance, "Come, sit down my friend, I'll get you a drink.". "If you are, give me a black. And a sandwich too." the aircraft designer told him, and he nodded in response.

It wasn't long before conversation began flowing, somewhere in the middle, the barista must have discretely placed a coffee and a sandwich on the table, signified by the empty platter and cup.

"So you we're left out to dry for something you didn't do?" Iacovic said, and he got a frenzied nod in response. "They've got nobody else to blame for that gods-damned incident, except for lucky old me of course," his friend began, "Of course, they fired me on the spot, but that wasn't all, they had to blot out my name from the creds.". "Sympathies friend," Iacovic replied, "If you want something harder to wash out the shit, I know a good place a few blocks down. Hardest liquor I tell you.". Loup simply chuckled at this, "Ah, I don't do alcohol friend, addles the mind it does." he paused slightly before leaning in, "I'll keep it in mind.". Talking continued, until once more, nightfall arrived. It was Loup who departed first, only saying "See you sometime!" as his parting words.

---

A friendship grew and grew, and one drunken December Saturday night in that bar Iacovic suggested, an idea was born.

"No no let me tell you friend..." a drunken Loup slurred out that last syllable, "We're gonna make a company, and its gonna be gloryioush... Bleugh." He had almost vomited there. "Uh-huh, and we'll design the best shit around," the weapons designer continued, the slur disappearing as he tried his hardest to focus through the alcohol, "We're gonna beat the fuck out of Aero, G4X, and even fucking Yaahl, oh yeah..." oh dear, the slurring was back, and his stomach was aching something fierce, "Woo yeah.". Then his entrepreneur friend began talking, as addled as he was, "Damn straight Louie, we're gonna make the shit, and not just any shit, but the good shit, aye." Iacovic shook his head rapidly, as to clear his mind temporarily, "I'll be the money, and you'll be the brains, and together we'll make enough money and make more money, ohoho yes.". "Indeeeeeee-d, we'll be- HURGH!" The dam broke, and vomit along with it.

"Aw shit, what the fuck!".

"I remember that time Louie," he said, nostalgia evident in his voice, "And that stain doomed that coat of mine to the bin, fuck you for that.". "Right, anyway, you up for it friend?" Artassaut asked him, and he thought about it. "You know what? Shit's been going down the drain as slowly as it is, might as well try making a plug.". "I'm in, looks like Artassaut-Ozeroy Engineering Company is gonna be a reality." He told his friend as he stuck out a hand, and Loup raised his own to meet it, and gave it a firm shake. "Let's go make shit to blow other shit out of the water pal." he told Ozeroy, who simply gave him a confident smirk and a firm nod.

And so AOE was born.

---

the Confederacy

A deal was made with Hoosier, and the land exchange began. And just as quick as they acquired the land of Opus and Hallfurt, they lost all of the former and much of the latter, and in return gained highly strategic ports in Brasberge and Landstreicher, as well as 24 million Aclusian pounds, 6.8 million of which they immediately paid to Nihon, this left them with 17.2 million extra, and this would be used for the funding of the new 1928 Naval Order's Battleships (the 1926 Naval Order was scrapped in order to fund the 1925 Naval Order's more expensive ships), which ensured that they would be built regardless of budget cuts. The naval order called for the construction of:

1928 Naval Order

• 4 Independence-class Battleships
• 2 Confederacy-class Carriers
• 10 Warhall-class Coastal Defense Ships
• 15 Blackrock-class Heavy Cruisers
• 35 Admiralty-class Light Cruisers
• 30 Deep One Class Destroyers
• 30 Danger II Class Destroyers
• 30 Duelist II Class Destroyer
• 200 Starspawn Class Submarines

There were some edits for the Independence-class Battleships, for example, engine improvements increased its speed from 22 to 23.5 knots. The largest and most drastic were the changes to its armament, as instead of four quadruple turrets of 14 inch, these were changed into four triple turrets of sixteen inch.

It appears that things were going to escalate from here.

[Rannoria]

To the Men of Old Rannoria

---

A photo of Commander of the Rannorian Security Forces, Josye Kane

July, 1927
Rannkradle
Rannoria
"Too many, sir." His breath was panting. The unnamed messenger ran across the city, skirting away from the open areas of the centre to the south-east where much of the remaining Rannorian forces were held at. "The Aclusians... those damned Rusklandrs... Confederates... to hell with them!" He shouted, but Kane told him to quiet down. The messenger was still panting, but as each second passed, his face began to contort with anger. "Kane, how could you let this happen?" The messenger had run all the way through hell, spotting the dead of Rannorians, Aclusians, and Confederates around him, their uniforms a blur. Every minute where the messenger ran was a minute where the messenger thanked Bann'jo for being alive. Every minute that passed for the messenger was another minute where his life could have ended. By now, he was counting down the minutes 'till his death. "I've run all across the city for you, but for what reason? The radios still work! Why have you-"

And to this, Josye put up a finger. It was difficult to find the commander, as he had only issued a general vague location to the general who the messenger was fighting under. Ultimately, the messenger had managed to find the commander, tucked away in a small bakery in a small alley, somehow unscarred by the horror of war. "Young man, what's your name?" The commander asked.

"Yajakan Raksasa, sir."

"Ironic," Josye chuckled, "your stature is short but you hold a surname which shows you hold a giant stature - literally."

But the messenger was not amused, and quickly cut in, his voice speaking in a hushed, but quick and angry tone. "Sir, we are in a warzone. Our men are dying out there. Every second, although we put up stiff resistance, both Aclusians and Rusklandrs press in further. Our men are dying, our brothers are dying-"

And again, Josye stopped him, this time with words. "Calm down, young man, I am fully aware that, at this second, our men are dying."

But to this, the messenger raised his eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "And yet you are so calm?"

"Yes, I am."

"Why?"

The commander sighed. "My good countryman, are you so oblivious to believe that we can truly win this battle?"

"Sir, I-"

"You've said it before. Our forces are being pushed back, and soon they will push-"

"Sir!" The young man cut in, "I- I know that we won't..." His voice faltered. He had never realised it until now, but at this moment, he was staring at reality in its face, its eyes gleaming with sadness and loss, the bitterness of all Rannorians in them. He saw that look, too, in his Commander's. Had he really expected to win this battle? To push back against overwhelming odds with the 100,000 or less men in the ruins of Rannkradle? To stand out from the battle, from the quagmire that is war, and wave the Rannoria flag ever higher and proclaim its greatness across Europeia and the world's many continents? What had he expected? His anger faltered, and the tensing of his throat faded. No. They couldn't win, and they never could. Even if they could push off the first wave of Aclusians and Rusklandrs, they would only come back with more, ready to bombard with weapons that, at this point, the RSF had no method of getting. Maybe he had known it. Maybe the entire time at the back of his mind, he knew that they, and most likely him as well, weren't going to come out of Rannkradle alive. But those thoughts were pushed away by hope, the hope of victory. The hope that patriotism would prevail over all, and the hope that with the positions the soldiers took, they would take glory with them to their graves. But as the fighting started, and as it continued, the reality of the situation dawned on everyone. Everybody had fought valiantly. From the machinegunners at the corners of each street, to the sharpshooters at windows or behind rubble. From the men that lay - quiet, cold - on the streets, to the men shouting on about the glory of Rannoria. They all knew, that this was their last stand.

"So you understand?" Josye spoke, jarring the young man back to reality. "You see why I have decided not to fight?"

"I do, but you are a coward, Kane."

The commander nodded. "I suppose I am, but I would rather spend the last moments of my life in this bakery, where I used to pick bread up every day and enjoy it. Where I could remember a time where Rannoria was once amongst the greatest of nations. Its navy, powerful. Its landpower, a true rival to the damned Warglorians in the east. Its allies, strong and trustworthy. A time where an Aclusian and a Rannorian could laugh about how they would fight a common enemy. That is why I have come here to die. At least I can die with the memories of a nation that was once great. Now, it is beset on all sides. Its former ally laughs as it consumes land that was its brother's. Its greatest enemy feasts on its carcass - the vulture to the dead creature. I wish to die in a place where I can at least dream of a powerful Rannoria. A true Rannoria."

There was a pause. A long pause. A pause only interrupted by the distant sound of men and artillery, gunshots and screams. But then the young man spoke, "You seem to have forgotten one thing Kane," and to this, the commander raised his eyebrow, "Us Rannorians have never been the best. Our navy, although powerful, was never as strong as the Aclusians to the west. Our military, although respectable, was never as disciplined or well-trained as the Hun to our east. Our lands, although fertile and fair, were never the largest. Our empire was small. Our industrial power, although reliable and ever-producing, was overshadowed by some of the world's larger powers. No, our greatest strength was each other. Many people believe that Sios Adance was the greatest as he brought Rannoria to a new frontier, and although that's true, he and Vail were... something else. Their strength lay in the trust of Rannoria, that the common man could do so much more! That he could serve his country, and make it worth it all, for it was not only Rannoria he fought for, but its people. His family and friends. The ones closest to him. You forget what makes Rannoria, well, Rannoria. That is its people, and their will."

There was another pause, and this time Josye ended it. "For a man who was sent on a mission that would surely kill them, you're oddly good with words." And they both shared a laugh. A laugh in a place where no man possibly could - the ruins of what was once the beacon for all Rannorians to flock to. "Although you have made your point, nothing is going to change this. I have chosen my resting place." The messenger sighed for a moment, but spoke soon enough.

"So why have you brought me here?"

"I need someone to kill me."

It was a surprise, but more of a comical surprise than a horrific one. In fact, the messenger smirked and said, "You're joking."

"I wish I was, but I'm not. Again, I have decided to stay. The Western League probably wants to capture me and interrogate me for whatever reason, but in that case, I'd rather die here than live to become the shame of Rannoria." He handed the messenger a revolver. It was an old one, a relic of the past. "It's loaded. One shot to the head, and it will be all over. I can't do it myself, so it's up to you."

The messenger studied the handgun. His commander-in-chief had just asked him to kill him. Was he going to do that? Yes, actually. He was. Why wouldn't he? His commander had given up, choosing to die an easy death rather than a death fated to meet those fighting in the streets as they spoke. No, before he pulled the trigger, he decided to speak once more. "Your cowardice is beyond me. Here you are, the symbol of the Rannorian democracy, giving in."

"Just do it."

"Then at least relay one last message. Don't mention anything about your death, but give everyone something to fight for. Something to hope for."

Again, the commander paused, but eventually he nodded. Using his radio, he broadcasted a message to someone. Somewhere. Was it the men in the city? The people with radios elsewhere in Rannoria? He didn't know, but he started speaking.

"After having a most... enlightening conversation with one of my subordinates, one thing has come to my attention. All around Rannoria, people are struggling. In the south, communists and people who simply want to lead their lives face a threat that might be beyond them, with the Boers at their side. Here in the north, the Western League has already stained the soil and cities of us Rannorians. Our men were killed and tortured. Our women: raped, beaten, and murdered without a single notion or care from the invader. Our children, displaced with no parents to seek shelter with and no home to go to. So eventually everybody may be asking - why do we fight? We are fighting a war that many of us may think is a war that is unnecessarily fought, a war that cannot be won and a war that will only further worsen the relations between Rannoria and its enemies. We may look back to the days of 30 years ago where Rannoria was once a great power, and we may think of where it went wrong. We may think of how Grand Sios Adance took his place as one of the greatest men in contemporary history, and how he made Rannoria powerful, and glorious, and supreme. But these thoughts and wishes are thoughts and wishes of a man who only sees defeat.

"Rannoria's greatest strength has never been its industry, or military, or whatever else. Those to the west of us boast their naval prowess. Those to the east of us boast a military which they believe is unrivalled, and that discipline and strength is what comes above all. But we have something else. In Rannoria, its strength is its people. Their willingness to fight, and their willingness to never let the spirit of Rannoria leave. If we cannot fight a war physically, than we shall fight a war with the hearts and souls of every man, woman, and child of the nation! A war which will lead to the remembrance and continuance of the spirit and soul of Rannoria. Of its people. Of you. Only several months ago, we have fought against each other, but now we must come together to fight a common enemy. Those who seek to destroy us and our spirit, to truly destroy Rannoria. As I speak, my fellow countrymen and brothers fight for their lives on the streets, and for every bullet that shoots an enemy down, a bullet falls on one of ours. As I speak, men and women are risking their lives to continue the nation, no, the idea of Rannoria. That as long as its people remain, Rannoria shall never be broken. I do regret to say that, as I speak, I am not with them, fighting for the glory of old Rannoria.

"We do not have long until Rannkradle completely falls, but it's already fallen, ever since the day this damned civil war started. I urge all of you to take a stand. The Rannorian Security Forces is no more, and I am ashamed to say that our attempts at grasping power have missed the idea of what Rannoria truly is. Not a nation, not a state, but a people. Months ago, we were fighting those damned communists, but now, it's time I respected them. Their willingness to fight and their will to preserve Rannoria is far greater than anything I've ever stood for. To end this broadcast, though, I have one sorry note to leave off with. Rannoria as we know it has fallen. Change is inevitable, but right now, an enemy is knocking at our doorstep, and the only sign of a Rannorian state is the Red front in the south. The democracy has fallen. After this war, we either face a split Rannoria, or a Rannoria conquered by its adversaries. But always remember, that no matter what, our will is unbreakable.

That is my message to the men of old Rannoria."

And thus ended his broadcast. As the seconds passed, he heard men getting closer and closer. Aclusians. Josye looked to the young man, and asked, "Yajakan. Please." Yajakan nodded, and focused the gun onto his own commander's skull. "Bumek raksasa, Yajakan. I hope to see you another day."

The shot rang through the alley, and the Aclusians neared the Yajakan's position. He threw away the gun, and with his best English, he shouted, "I stop! Don't hurt! Please! I am in the bakery!"

And as the Aclusians came closer the Yajakan, Western League forces neared closer to the rest of the south-east as well. The Rusklandrs had managed to plant a flag at the top of the City Obelisk, a somehow unharmed attraction of the city. Crazy bastards. The centre had been taken. The north had been taken. The west was decimated. The Aclusians deduced that the strongest point of resistance was closer to the south-east, and so with their fearsome guns surrounding the city, the bombardment never stopped. At some places in the south-east, it was like a trench war. They pushed, the Rannorians pushed, and although there were pockets of Rannorian resistance, the majority of the Rannorian line fell back, closer towards the rendezvous point. Armoured support crashed through buildings and streets, trampling and firing upon RSF soldiers, and although the Rannorians had some resistance to it, not much could be done. There was no more hope. Supplies had been cut off, and as the city became more rubble than city, soldiers had less and less to eat and drink. From the 100,000 that started off in the battle, 80,000 were injured or dead. As the enemy neared closer, the stiffer the resistance became. Booby traps became more frequent. More nourished soldiers arrived from the less-damaged parts of the south-east and from the south in general, and although heavy casualties were inflicted on both sides, the Rannorians knew that they could not hold out for much longer.

Many men made had decided to make a last stand, but a few men, much like Yajakan, had surrendered. Whether they were killed or were taken in by the Aclusians is unknown to the rest of the men, but for all they knew, they must die for the cause they decided to sign up for. They had sealed their own fate, and they decided to finish it. Communication was limited to messengers, and frequently they were intercepted by bullets or shells. Units under each general began to spread out more and fend more for their own lives than anything. This was the Fall of Rannkradle.

[Near to the RSF rendezvous point]

[The Imperial Warglorian Empire]

Gokyo, Nihonese Empire
The bustling port city of Gokyo was quite a sight to behold. Black smoke rose out of dull-coloured factories, contrasting with the colourful infrastructure of Nihonese temples and the pink of cherry blossom trees. The perfect blend of modernisation and traditionalism expressed through architecture. The waters were rather calm as ships cut through them to dock with the huge dockyards of Gokyo. Because of the militarised state of the Nihonese Empire, the sight of military personal and warships wasn't that out of place. Yet the sight that approached Gokyo was definitely something out of the ordinary. Approaching the capital of the Nihonese Empire was a massive fleet of ships. Part of the fleet was composed of various warships, the most notable being the massive superdreadnoughts and the two aircraft carriers, their decks completely occupied by various aircraft; from light fighters to heavy bombers. The other ships were military transports, their decks filled to the brim with armed soldiers as they attempted to catch a glimpse at the, to them, foreign city.

All of these warships bore a gold stylised eagle, its talons clutching an anchor with a navy blue background while in the middle of a gold/black flag; the flag of the Warglorian Kriegsmarine. Men crammed on the decks of these ships, wearing either the navy blue of the Warglorian Marine, the white of the Kriegsmarine Sailor, the grey of the Heer soldier or the black of the SG Legionary. All were looking at their distant destination, and many were restless to finally finish the long journey they just had.

Guided by Nihonese coastal ships, the transports began docking at the massive dockyards of Nihon. Troops began disembarking and immediately organising themselves into disciplined ranks; a mass of grey, black and navy blue all in giant blocks. At the same time, other men and women began disembarking the ships, transporting cargo off the ships. They wore dark brown military uniforms, the armbands on their arms displaying an Iron Cross surrounded by a gear, a pickaxe and a shovel crossed over behind it. These were members of the Reicharbeitabteilung, or "Reich Labour Department," a government-controlled national labour organisation formed in a military-esq fashion. To help in the transport of supplies and equipment, the Reicharbeitabteilung recruited over 140,000 labourers from Zeeland and Indianum; particularly the Aclusian Raj.

As the dockyards began filled with this sudden activity, General von Falkenhausen and Admiral von Spee stepped onto the docks. The former wore his standard grey uniform with red markings, while the latter wore her navy blue Kriegsmarine admiral uniform, a white peaked cap upon her head as well as a Rachanan Katolik Cross necklace around her neck. Soldiers all around them stood to attention instantly and simultaneously with high discipline; it was as if they were all one man and his reflections in a mirror.

Both began walking down the platform to greet the Nihonese procession. Von Falkenhausen was flanked by several Heer and SG officers as well as his accompanying guard escorts. Von Spee's retinue was a bit different, as she was flanked by several Kriegsmarine Marines and Officers; all of whom were women too. When von Spee had joined the Kriegsmarine and proceeded to become not only Wargloria's highest-ranking female officer but also one of her youngest admirals (at 33 years old), she inspired a number of other Rachanans (both former and non-military personnel) to follower her into joining the Warglorian military.

As the pair and their retinue continued on, they eyed the massive and imposing architecture of the Nihonese Empire.

Now things were going to get interesting.

Nihon Force Report

• 400,000 Heer Soldiers
• 100,000 SG Legionnaires
• 5,000 Gestapo Agents
• Kriegsmarine Nihon Naval Taskforce (1x Zeppelin Class Aircraft Carrier, 1x Erkhart Class Aircraft Carrier, 8x Erkhart Class Super Dreadnoughts, 4x Kedrich-Class Battlecruisers, 15x Heavy Cruisers, 15x Drachen and Kaiserberg Class Light Cruisers, 30x Destroyers, 80x Type 18 and 17 U-Boats)

Heer Commander: Generaloberst Hermann von Falkenhausen
Kriegsmarine Commander Admiral Maria von Spee
Total Troops: 500,000

[The Traansval]

R'lyeh, Palas Fomalhaut
Ruskland, January 1928

“So!” Jans Tulin exclaimed, looking over the documents in front of him, his exclamation acting as a definitive end to the constant discussion that had been happening over the past few months. “The final agreement, between the Traansval and the Confederation of the North, stands currently at this. The Traansval shall provide a lease to the Confederation, of a period of ninety-nine years, for the Deruhn Islands. Additionally, this agreement shall mandate that the Traansval allow for free basing rights to ships of the Confederation, including the right to unlimited docking, contracting for repairs, shore leave for the crew with Confederation MPs expected to keep the crew in good order, and the ability to purchase supplies and goods for the ship or crew free of international duties or tariffs. In return, the Confederation shall sail two Battleships, fourteen cruisers, twenty five destroyers, and roughly a hundred U-Boats to the ports of Kaapstad, Mbombela, and Durban, under a story of Naval Maneuvers, where they shall be docked and handed over to the Federation in secret. The Confederate crew and the representatives of the Confederation shall then be provided with travel back to the Confederacy of the North via commercial cruise liners with expenses paid by the Federation.”

Tulin finished speaking and looked up, towards the men of the Ruskland Confederation, with eyes expectant. “Finally, the Federation shall pay the sum agreed to in gold for an order of two carriers to be constructed by the Confederation.” Jans held up the R’lyeh Agreement, the sheafs of paper glowing in the light as he lightly smacked it with his other hand before handing it over to the Rusklanders. “Gentlemen, this is a deal that has been long in the making. We have debated much, but I hope that finally we have terms that are agreeable to both parties. At the very least, I can say this is agreeable to my government”.

---

[Newne Carriebean7]

Das Kapital Region
Carriebeanian Ministry of the Army
February 1st, 1928

Minister of the Army Jackson Potters sank his head down on the wooden desk as he looked at a few political documents currently on his table. His role as the head of the Imperial Carriebeanian Army, at least in an administrative and bureaucratic aspect, was rather marginalized. He would show up to work for four hours before heading off to his bombed out husk of an apartment.
With the recent yet unsteady peace within the nation, and the nationalist rhetoric spat out by the president that only seemed to increase tensions between Carriebeanian citizens and their occupational forces, all that would take was a rather large spark to set a few not hungry citizens off.

The staff door opened, with Potters looking up among drags from his cigar at the image of a scarfed ancient looking elderly man with a moderately thick handlebar moustache and white goatee. He shot an uneasy look at the minister before taking a seat.
“Ah, my old friend Bantejø!”
Prime Minister Marchiba Bantejø meekly smiled politely and shook his hand. “Why in the tarnation did you bring me outta retirement?! I’m 112 years old for god’s sakes! This better not be about our bet, because I cant remember it on account of me being over a hundred years old! I can dance like a fuckin chicken ya gaul darn idjit!”
“No no… nothing like that. This concerns your time as prime minister and a formal invitation.”
“In vite tay shion, what the cotton picked fresh hell does that mean? Can Y’all cut the shit outta th’ system and fuck on to it?!”
“Right. I forgot you’re one of those…country folk. I’m asking you to become Prime Minister again.”
“Oh naaw. Oh hell naaw. Did the part where I’m a fuckin’ centarian and a tenth of one quarter ring a bell?! I’m faar too awld for dis shit.”
“Look, you’d be getting paid, and all you’d have to do is help me with my tasks and you run parliament.”
“I tought der occuayers shut it on’ down?”
“No, it’s still operational, just… full of shit, you know, dog shit, cat shit, human shit, political shit. We need you to scoop it out and manage one part of the government bureaucracy. I’m asking a lot from you, and you have every right to refuse it again if you wish.”
“I ain’t dooin it. No, no, a thousand times nay! I need my nap goddamit!”
“Alright, you’re loss for the babes.”
Bantejø ‘s eyes widened at the news of women.
“G’an.”
“I mean we still have all those nurses and doctors who are just dying to enter carriebeanian politics as staffers and aides to various MPs. The power of political office just got a bit more.. promiscuous.”
Both men laughed before Bantejø got up and finally smiled from ear to ear.
“It’s one hell o’ done don deal, I’ll hold new elections for Parliament immediately!”
“Splendid.” Potters exclaimed before pulling out a trap panel in his office chambers, unveiling a bottle of rum and two shot glasses.
“W’ll, why did’t y’ say we hads boose?”
“It’s a trade secret from my family, passed down from generation to generation.”
Both Potters and Bantejø smiled at one another, clinking the now filled glasses and throwing them back, with a light warm flush emanating from their cheeks from the sudden rush of alcohol into their bodies.
“I-I’ll havta git dis here recapai from ya some time. Imma git Parliament on it’s way!” He then fumbles around for the telephone, slamming it on the ground before scribbling something on a piece of paper and taking it with him.

Carriebeanian Parliament

The huddled masses of parliamentarian members filled the eyesight of any bloke casually glancing at Parliament as they all funneled into the chambers. Carriebeanian Parliament was made up of three main stories in the debate chamber, with a structure set up so one group could ostensibly set up their superiority over the other two at one time. In reality, the Houses of Nobles and People mostly shit down upon the House of Peasants. In order for controlled debate, each House of 2,000 members each would mostly work independent of one another except when they wanted to pass legislation, as it would originate in the House of Peasants, then move on to the Noble house, then the People would send it to all three houses for a simple majority vote of 3001 out of 6000.

There would be rigorous debates, albeit devoid of the constant massacring and shooting, that their little brother in terms of legislative history known as Congress was infamous for. With a calmer period of debate that involved a less likelihood of death (though the plague from the infamous shit bug would still pester the occasional session, based on janitor’s PTSD from cleaning up the House of Peasants. Various members now settled down gradually with volume pitched conversations echoing throughout the chamber, with cries to shut the hell up being hurled down along with fecal material from the House of Nobles onto the Peasants.

Prime Minister Marchiba Bantejø emerged from the various rows of Farmer Party higher ups and political elites dressed in somewhat acceptable attire for a political debate, standing on one side of a wooden table stolen from a cafeteria as an elderly man in a higher chair recognized him.
“The Prime Minister.”
“Thanks yee, Masta Gibbs. Now dis e’re nashional mi lee tary spending bill is irrational and simply not in the best interests of Carriebeanian citizens. I really ask my contemporaries on the other side of the aisle, such as the right honorable motherfucker from Piousamente 71 on how he intends to keep the peace by rolling over to the hound dogs outside the gates?! I advertise the full cause of national action to be taken place immediately, or as practicable a time in diplomatic relations would occur to allow us to revolt again.”
A man with slight facial hair and wearing a rat fur coat simply scoffed before standing up as he was recognized to have the floor as the opposition leader.
“This slumbering and slobbering administration has failed time and time again in the realm of political reality! These fucktards, nitwits and nincompoops have all glossed over the strategic and tactical need to rebuild the armed forces! I dare say he’s one for colluding with the enemy, what do you say Prime Minister? Fancy a game of traitor? What secrets of Carriebeanian Shit Making are you selling off to Manticorian manufacturers?! How many slaves have you illegally freed?! I move for an immediate investigation into the personal maters of the Prime Minister and move for a vote of no confidence immediately!”

The rather boisterous remarks elated the opposition, who erupted in massive cheers on all three levels while boos and hisses were clambered out by government members of parliament. Insults tended to fly both directions, ranging from implications that some MP’s mother was a llama to inflammatory remarks that they needed to be killed for disagreeing with them. The gavel was hammered out heavily by the speaker who bellowed:
“I will have order in this chamber! Order! Order Motherfuckers! The debate will be conducted in a civilized manner! The Opposition Leader has set a motion forwards for a vote of no confidence in the government of the Prime Minister. As we are a corrupt democracy that someone bribed me to accept it, I shall now ask all those for said motion to now shout at the top of their lungs.”
“AYE!” A series of high pitched intermixed with slight low roars was heard from opposition benches and the higher ups before dying down.
“All those against said motion.”
“NAY!” The Prime Minister and various government officials within the majority parties bellowed out before the Speaker shouted.
“Division! Clear the Shit Room!”
Soon the six thousand MP’s funneled out to three separate rooms on each of the triple floors within Parliament to be held counting for the vote, with one room for the ayes and vice versa for those who were against the government. After a full hour of standing within three rooms to allow the government aides and talliers to be bad at math and count corruptly with a few generous bribes by both government and opposition MPs, It took a fairly long time before bells were rung by the pages and government accountants to have Parliament come back into session, with six thousand members making their ways to government benches and opposition ones respectively. After tens of thousands of conversations were spat out by six thousand people particulate professed in politics for parliament, they were all executed when the government pages entered the room with the official tally.
“The Government Page.”
“The Ayes to the right,4,037. The Nays to the left 1,960. Abstentions 3.”
“This Parliament now has lost confidence in the overall leadership abilities of the Prime Minister, as such a simple show of hands will be now called for a motion to dissolve parliament to enable new elections to be held.”
“Aye?”
A forest of thousands of hands and the same painfully slow counting process was numed up, with several MPs switching hands or dropping them due to exhaustion. The same process would be repeated for all the Nay votes until the final tally was said by the government page.
“Ayes to the right, 4,114. The Nays to the left 1,865. Abstentions 21.”
“The Motion passes and this Parliament is hereby dissolved for an immediate election to take place within one week. Adjourned.”

With a slam of his gavel, Parliament was adjourned, with six thousand people leaving the building to go campaign for their various seats. The Campaign was filled with pressing matters on the various parties plans to re institute and reinvigorate the Carriebeanian political union which had been faltering and almost been on life support with it’s weakened powers under the hated, if slowly warming, military occupation by the victorious allies.
The far left and far right political movements grew in strength, with millions of volunteers throughout the Carriebeanian occupied mainland rallying support for various political parties either by passing out pamphlets to the carriebeanian citizen who wasn’t eating their own shit illegally or just threating to bomb a train station if the people gathered did not vote for the Communists or Patriotic parties. The Farmer party pathed a much more moderate set of reforms, such as the construction of more houses of worship, factories and railroads in order to bring jobs back to Carriebean.
They even had plans in establishing in written law actual banks for all the political parties to hold funds.
Though the Farmer party lacked a concrete plan for the fate of the Carriebeanian Imperial Army, trying to tip tow the line between far right warmongers and far left hippies who pressed for total militarization and the abolition of all firearms within the country respectively.
The Pirate Party even looked to make a few gains until a fatal gaffe about a “thousand ship navy” by 1940 was muttered by Peter-James-Arthur, it’s leader. Carriebeanian interests were now mostly focused on either keeping the pot from boiling over in starting another suicidal war that would inevitably extinguish Carriebean as an idea.

The contemporaries to this idea argued that Carriebean was already dead and saw no need for caution. The overall campaign season was a flurry of thousands of posters in occupied Carriebeanian Indianum mainland ‘holdings’ urging to vote as an act of defiance, despite the fact that many of the allied occupants freely and actively encouraged such democratic process, though Amanzo slaves were turned away in the tens of thousands despite having written permission from their master to vote for the same party of their master.

Only in rare cases did slaves and former slaves cast ballots, all under the eyes of roving reporters to publish “progressive” stories to their bosses in various Carriebeanian papers with slight hints of the red tint of socialism. Of the 7 million votes cast (with a turnout of just 5%), only 700 ballots were from Amanzo Slaves (600 for the Communist Party, with the remaining 100 being splintered off into write in votes for Moses from the bible, fictional storybook characters such as Pinocchio and the ex-president Marvin Washvelt by his slave mistress)

The Results occurred with the Pirate and Patriotic Parties messages of fevered nationalism growing deaf on a population simply hungry, losing a combined six hundred seats. The Royalists and Independents both saw one gain and one hundred and twenty seven gains respectively, amounting to the growing dissatisfaction with the far right political movements which seemed to have run their course in the now exhausted Carriebean. The Independents, a party not really affiliated with anyone and mostly a big tent of those disillusioned with both sides, saw to gain one hundred seats. The Far left Communist Party arrived with over five hundred more members within the government chambers, practically foaming at the mouth for a communist state filled with politburo committees and various communes and councils, sweeping away the hated monarchy, presidency and parliament, but that would have to wait.

As for Marchiba Bantejø’s government, he was now forced to align the left leaning Farmer’s Party with the far left Communist Party. However, even with these two parties, he was still nearly seven hundred seats short of a majority. Gritting his teeth and enduring hours of negotiations between two suitors, the Independents and Pirate, he finally decided to flip a coin on the fate of the government.
Had his table been steady, the future course of Carriebeanian politics might have altered, but because it was an older make from the 1400s restored, it slanted, drawing his coin down onto the bust of the current Emperor Tyler II with the motto “Fuck You and Spend Money” in Olde Carriespeak.
But, he found himself signing a piece of paper with the Independents that was disguised as some sort of naval treaty.

NATIONAL CALL TO ARMS AND NAVAL REARMAMENT ACT OF 1928

I. Understanding the need for new warships within the Carriebeanian Navy while also acknowledging the weak industrial base of Carriebean in it’s current state, does herby declare a call to enlist within the ranks of the Imperial Carriebeanian Navy, with immediate bonuses for war time experience sailors into officers, captains and admirals.
II. Corruptly handing over tens of thousands to reopen drydocks and naval facilities within the capital and surrounding jungles of Carriebean. Carriebeanian shipbuilders will be actively sought out and hired, then foreign companies will be awarded contracts in order to design new warships that shall become the nucleus of a new Carriebeanian Main Battle Fleet in being. The Government here in states, that a coalition between the most agreeable partners of the Farmer Party, Communist Party and Independent group of a thousand seats in order to herby form a government, as commanded by his Majesty Tyler the Second.
III. Carriebeanian Shipyards shall commence with any and all previously started projects before moving onto new ones, should resources suffice for their immediate construction and be more than 5% completed via their hulls.
IV. The Occupied Government has gone against the will of millions of Carriebeanian citizens by depriving them of the nutrition within their defecational soil. The occupiers also inadvertently harm Carriebeanian soil, which cannot grow without the turds of winter being plopped out and delivered to the hungry masses. Corn will be the stuff of legends, with only mere whispers of apples and bannanas within these walls, mostly in hushed ceremonies.

Rango Jominiki Hotel

Jeff Winger listened to lightly playing piano music in the hotel lobby while his eyes were invested in a lime filled margarita that beckoned to his immediate attention and thirst. Gingerly taking a sip and grimacing, he set it down before reminiscing about an event that occurred 16 years ago. He remembered how harsh he had been towards the communist Casso’s faction, with him taking up the mantel of Communist-Cannibalism.
While he had not officially been in the hotel during the ensuing chaos, he did distinctively remember visiting it during it’s reconstruction, with the firefights by the Carriebeanian soldiers in rooting out the final vestiges of a few far right and far left members that aligned themselves as stubborn squatters with rifles and carbines.
Though there had been little in the word regarding the now slumbering far left ideologies, with seeming satisfaction with the government’s position on the them no longer being political pariahs. His far left ideology of communist cannibalism did see much ridicule from the mainstream Communist party, though the most extreme action so far taken by their new party leadership was to simply uninvite Jeff from official party functions and political meetings. He hadn’t been killed for his opposing political views, so it may have been a sign of things to come within the political scene of Carriebean.

A light tap on his shoulder made him quietly shift to one side on the bar, eyes still facing down as a note was passed to him. Winger merely nodded and waited for a small party to leave via the stairs up a fair few flights before moving there himself. He would discreetly bump into an old woman carrying a laundry basket before seeing that his note ended up in her laundry basket as she returned to her room. Knocking once on room 114, he heard slight shoveling of the wooden planks utilized as locks before a rather young gentlemen’s one eye peeked out, grinning before he was allowed into the hotel room.
Gathered around the table was a collection of various firearms, grenades and human flesh intermixed with human feces. It was a rather normal affair in the realms of the far left political ideology he practiced and followed actively. With a slight nod, he began the fiery speech.

“The Chains of the Amanzo Slave are now compressed around our once liberated necks! Carriebean is a defeated, limp corpse, merely propped up by the willful puppeteering of the Allied Occupants and Infidels which despoil it’s land and insult it’s good name. Many of the Carriebeanian workers now find it hard for jobs and to provide for their loved ones. The Carriebeanian shit farms are bankrupt, driving hundreds of thousands into poverty beyond poverty!

The Carriebeanian Cannibalistic-Communist Party has enemies on all sides. The Main Government owned by the motherfuckers of Manticore, Bastards of Breyburg and Rotten Rats of Rannoria have harbored ill feelings towards our particular brand of revolutionary recipes of the flesh, arguing the immortality of eating anyone. I ask you, why should an old man be worth more than a gold man? The social injustices of Carriebeanian Society have only been exacerbated by enemy boots on our ground, and I say we need to purge them from the soil, drive them from the gates of hell and back into heaven!

If the mainstream Communist Party is unwilling to take on the cause of cannibalism, socialism and a good meal of the flesh, then they shall burn in heaven for their sins! We will be the ones that takes the first brave step into the liberation and enslavement of Carriebean and our Amanzo niggers respectively! The People will be freed from their hard toils and brought back into a golden age of revolution! We must spread this message near and far my good allies, we must ferment revolution, topple the monarchy and establish the cannibalistic communes all throughout Carriebean!”

Cheers erupted from the room with an elation by many of the gathered members before it calmed down as several revolutionary songs were sung.
“Johnny on the water,
Johnny on the water
Johnny on the water my boy
How much for a dollar
How much for a dollar
When the workin man stiffs your pay?
We’d sing a long time til the night was through
All drunk on whiskey
Then all those ol’ timers say to one another
I’d like it if we would dance
So A Dancin they go-
Down to Carakakawake
The Town where you and I know…
Yeah we all head out, on down to Carakakawake
With heads raised high and spirits a glow
Johnny on the Water
Johnny on the Water
How much for a dollar
How much for a dollar
When the workin man stiffs your pay?”

Waters off of Carriebean

Many of the former sailors from the long since disbanded Naval Department had very few sea legs going for them, so it was even more surprising that pirate raids were actively encouraged (albeit discreetly) by the Carriebeanian Government. These bands of ill fed and mostly militarily disbanded sailors who saw no purpose in milling the land just to hire a servant to do it for him quickly turned towards the seas and the lucrative trading points. Hundreds of Ships passed right by Carriebean each and every year, albeit with a limited supply due to enemy blockades and the constant warfare which had ripped Carriebean apart.

Certain spots of the Carriebeanian coast were fairly narrow waterways and bogged rivers filled with a plethora of amphibious life and animals. This would mean larger shipping vessels would have to travel to the few ports that Carriebean did have that would sustain massive amounts of shipping and allied supplies that weren’t already hauled over land in trucks. With muted encouragement by their own government and with little to lose already besides their lives, thousands of Carriebeanian sailors took to piracy.
“Calm the Beast down, alright! You fuckers are going to spook that damned light!”
“Oi, Willie, It’s not that bad. Will you calm your shit man, or am I going to have to come up there to calm it for you?”
“Oh fuck right on off mate. Just keep an eye out for ships.”
A hasty clang of a bell was echoed in the ears of Willie Scranton as he brought the telescope to his eyes and saw a light plume of smoke with several towering forests enveloping the smoke in the from of furled up sails and rigging.
“Aha my boys, Let’s Introduce ourselves to this…” He attempted to read out the flag.
“Breyburgian Freighter.”

With a simple lighting of a blue light before extinguishing it, the signal for attack began. A few more lights flickered on and off, with each of the twelve torpedo boats acknowledging the order. The men onboard donned pistols, cutlasses, axes and swords for hand to hand combat, along with numerous grappling hooks to apply to the side of the possibly loot laden captor.
The sailors onboard as the dozen craft approached either side of the vessel looked panicked, with the crews running about throwing chairs and dining equipment overboard, with a few of them slamming into one of the boats which sank due to a rather heavy piano being tossed over onto the poor twenty eight man rowboat.

Willie soon clambered over the railing and marched his way through several of his compatriots, immediately noticing the passengers of the ship, all dressed up in either white or in rather thin clothes for such weather. He stumbled forwards to his second in command.
“So what’s the situation?’
“They keep saying this ship is protected by international law and that what we are doing is illegal.”
“Illegal? Why the fuck is it called piracy then?” Willie then faced one of the passengers, an older looking gentlemen wearing a black cap.
“you.. you people are pirates, you’ll never get away with this, you’re going to be hung high!”
“Hung high? Please reconsider your negotiating position, because, as I see it, you’re going to be the one handing this ship over to us. Now where’s the fucking treasure?”
The old man squinted for a moment before turning to another member.
“What treasure?”
“Oh, you know, shiny shit, actual shit, human feces, gold, doubloons, something valuable!”
The old man, which was identified as the captain, then piped up with a slightly embarrassed look.
“Oh, my, this is.. how should I put this lightly, We’re a medical frigate, a hospital ship if you will. We’ve been treating many injured soldiers and were just on our way back to a.. a mountain of gold, now if you would calmly point your guns away from us, I’ll escort you to the chart room.”

Willie gave a curt nod to his second in command as his cutlass impatiently poked the captain, who jolted in pain before walking down the hallway. The journey continued for some time, passing by state of the art (to Carriebeaners anyways not eating their own shit) cafeterias, medical bays and several libraries and a tennis court. It almost seemed like this ship was more of a cruise ship rather than any medical liner he had heard of. The Captain politely opened the door for him, to which the captain got little in the way of any polite greetings, only a slight growl when the faintest second of eye contact was made between willie and the captain.
“This room contains our navigational charts, bank statements that can be transferred into hard currency, some religious artifacts and locations where upwards of fifty thousand Carriebeanian citizens buried their gold, paper Sai notes and various family heirlooms before the first Carriebeanian War.”

“You mean the Carriebeanian-Breyburgian war assuredly.”
The Captain shook his head and laughed.
“No. The First Carriebeanian War. As in the 1870s. Which means they are worth much more than they would be buried up.”
Willie lingered over the possibility for a moment before hacking up a significant spit wad on his palm and shaking the adjacent member belonging to the now less than enthusiastic captain.
Now armed with more than enough charts and maps for several trips to rumored Banks and carrying out as much gold, silver and bank statements that they could grab. After returning to the boat, the captain tried one more conversation.
“So, this means no hard feelings?”

“Nothing but hard feelings!” Willie shouted before raising his arm up and then swiftly down as torpedo spars slammed into the hull of the freighter, detonating and ripping through several compartments that soon filled with water while fires spread throughout the deck, with the hundreds on board either falling into the seas or tried to man the soul lifeboat on deck, with the Carriebeanian pirates opening fire immediately once hundreds of sailors plopped into the ocean and were gunned down, turning the sea another shade of red.
“To Shore!”
And with that, the numerous Carriebeanian pirates left over six hundred bodies that would be picked apart by the local wildlife or discovered by bored children who would play with their corpses.

[Azenyanistan]

There was news.

Rachana would, and could, make peace with the Parsi. Once considered bandits, they were to be treated as neighbors. The Rachanans, though still feeling a little bitter in the mouth from the loss of territories to the north, would get over it. It was not as important as the matter with the Nihonese.

Nihon.

An empire. A militaristic power. A fascist state. A religious state. A country that worships a man as god and treats him, an emperor, as divine. A country, a state, a nation that offended and threatened Rachana.

They had chemical weapons. They had biological weapons. Even if that was denied, even if that was ignored, even if that was not true, the threats flew, and they crashed against the window of the Rachanan household, and it has caused great offense and distress.

And Nihon, the Rachanans thought, privately or publicly, in the government, and in the ranks of the military, would pay.

At Rachel, the Rachanans, under the General Sarah Ramirez, made ready for war.

---

"We need more divisions, General. On the other hand, the best thing to do right now is to start encouraging our people to enter industry. We need the factories running. If we don't have any more, we need new ones. That, and we must prepare our people for total war. The Nihonese, if they turn on us, may start commiting atrocities which we cannot imagine. Everybody has to be able to protect themselves from the invader. Also, we have to focus on the navy and the air force. We need more money to upgrade and improve them just as we enlarge our army. We also must prepare for the effects war will have on our economy. We have to ensure that the food and water supplies of our people will not be interrupted."

"The sooner we make peace with the Parsi and make them allies, the sooner we can get our countrymen on the path to war against the Nihonese. Also, we must reach out, strengthen our alliances. We cannot forget our friends."

"We must fortify our coasts. We must place our men there. Inland, we need reserves. We have to concentrate our artillery and airpower in order to stop or slow down the Nihonese who may attack."

"Enough," said the dictator. She listened to the sounds die out as she stood up and told them all what she wanted to happen, what she wanted them to do, and to say.

She told them: "Make contact with the Central Alliance. Inform them that we need their help. As for our extra territories, we must sell them off. Make contact too with the Parsi. Tell them we want peace and an alliance with them. We will give them the tools to make their country. On the other hand, make our country ready for war. Fortify the coasts. Evacuate the people. Arm them. And lastly...offer the hand of our princess to our allies in the CA. Cable Aydinir. In addition, we must begin mobilizing; I tell you now, our country shall enter a state of emergency beginning....now."

The men and women around her were still silent. They made no move, until one of them stood up and saluted her. Then two. Then all the rest. Then the dictator said,

"Go now. Do your duties."

And so out they went.

Tonight, Rachana would wake up to make herself prepared for battle.