NationStates

I sow these seeds in this fertile ground,
Soft and dark like a murder of crows,
I water them with this sweet blood,
Redder than the rose.
~Mallarctaian Voodoo Hymn~

Portias Espesaia

The world was always dark.

For as long as he remembered, Alberto Boisseau had lived in the twilight of Portias Espesaia, the capital city of Mallarctaia. It was always twilight here, the heavy industrial smog belching from the factories, casting a pall over the entire city. By day the city was lit in a burnt-amber half-glow as the sun filtered through the poison clouds. Close to the centre of the vast, sprawling urban decay the light changed to the baleful sodium glare of ornate streetlights and the neon maze of business.

Away from that, though, even the skyscrapers were half-lit, some completely dark and abandoned death-traps with only the most desperate existing within them. Some of the old factories were dark too, crumbling, poisonous, radioactive monoliths of past industry. The newer factories were different though, sprawling miniature cities of buildings, towers and smokestacks. The corporations lit them in bright white light but the thick smog turned even that brightness into a sickly yellow, green and red.

Alberto worked in a corporation once, the floor manager of a factory which employed six thousand people. The factory manufactured armaments—uranium depleted rounds, missile casings and strange, armoured plates that he guessed were for ships or tanks. He was luckier than most as he didn’t have to work on the machines themselves—safety gear was minimal and what there was of it wasn’t available for everyone. Every week they lost a few men and women to the machines, or to sickness from the chemicals and radiation or to suicide. He was lucky.

And then he wasn’t. A machine had ground to a halt and a small, incredibly sharp bold had shot off and struck him in his hand. The pain, the hot searing pain had been overwhelming. He remembered the blood vividly.

They’d stopped the blood with makeshift bandages and then one of the managers had arrived, as usual. They always seemed to know when an incident occurred and exactly where to turn up. He couldn’t remember the man, although the safety gear and gas mask made it difficult in any case. All he’d remembered was a gloved hand pointing at him. Your turn.

He’d fought as the security men had dragged him off. He pleaded with them, he wanted them to know he’d still work, he’d still work through the pain, his hand would get better... but their inhuman metal gas mask faces had ignored him.

He was on his own now. On his own in the streets. The bandage around his hand was yellow and red and he knew that the poison from the wound was seeping into his body. The hand had stopped hurting a few days ago, the fingers blackening. There wasn’t much time left.

He was surprised he had survived this long. He had killed and eaten the smaller stray dogs, rats and other vermin that infested the streets of the city, hiding in the rubble from the gangs, the military and the security teams. Especially the cannibals. He’d seen them sometimes, dismembering each other or sometimes chewing madly into their own flesh. At times they were in small groups, but usually by themselves, some modicum of shame and a sense of horror at their deeds keeping them from forming any community. He’d seen them pick over the corpses that would be thrown into the street from the backs of trucks and military vehicles.

Even in his delirium he swore never to join them. Better to eat the flesh of vermin than to eat people.

The wound sapped him of strength though. Every day it was harder to move, harder to scavenge. His clothes were grimy, ripped and stained with blood, urine, faeces and chemicals. The water he drank was poison too, the acidic pools formed by rain.

He was hiding now, not bothering to look for food. Waiting for the pain to finally end. He vaguely remembered the lessons his mother had taught him—the gods who had walked the land before the corporations. Perhaps he would see them when he died.

There was a crunch and a groan. Despite his exhaustion he tensed up, looking around. He’d made it to a low, half-demolished building that may have once been an office of some sort. There were plastic remnants of furniture, corroding metal fixtures and decaying concrete walls. He’d leaned up against such a wall, trying to stay out of the wind and out of sight.

There was someone there, on the other side of the wall. Someone had seen him.

He willed himself to move but his body failed to respond. The fear felt dulled in his stomach, an old feeling that was as much a part of him as the hand that was rotting away. He closed his eyes and felt oddly at peace. Whoever it was would finish him off, even if they took their time. It wouldn’t last forever. It wouldn’t last this bleak eternity.

There was a click and then light, bright blinding white light shone straight into his face. He gasped a ragged breath and squinted his eyes open into it. The light shifted down and through the glare he saw a gas mask, a gloved hand and... was it a gun?

The figure knelt in front of him and pressed something to his lips. To his shock he realised it was a plastic bottle full of water—clean water. He drank greedily, the cool liquid flowing down his parched throat.

The gas mask was pushed up with a gloved hand. The man’s face beneath it had thick stubble but wasn’t diseased or emaciated. The eyes were bright, intelligent and gentle and the man’s expression was kind and concerned, if tense.

There was someone else, holding the gun. Yet it wasn’t a gun... the barrel had glass over it, darkened glass. Whatever it was, it looked delicate, sophisticated, expensive.

The man spoke in English. “Hello. My name’s Jonathan. I’m Chimaean.”

He’d heard of Chimaea, of course—a country close to Mallarctaia but a world away. A world without poison and radiation and smog.

“I work for the New Sydney Times... Chimaean media. And I want you to tell me your story...”

And with the last hours left in his blighted life, Alberto told his story.

-------------

OOC Thread located here: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=132258
Please post there first.

New Sydney, Chimaea

”...And this is what decades of corporate power has done to this once great nation. The cities decay in constant darkness, encircled by factories and sweatshops which, without environmental controls, regulation or industrial unions, slowly consume and destroy everything around them.

“Men like Alberto Boisseau toil in these factories to manufacture weapons, clothes, electrical goods—anything and everything the world consumes without regard for how they’re made and who makes them. International corporations like Alpha Chem, Mezuda and Acceleron use cheap labour and a corrupt government to benefit from this nation and its people. Even Chimaean corporations are either directly or indirectly involved in making a profit from this hell on Earth.

“We were lucky to speak to Alberto before he died. The only foreigners allowed inside Mallarctaia are the representatives of the corporations. We can’t tell you how we got through their borders as other lives would be in danger. The corporations also employ private security firms to control their workers and maintain security in their factories and several times we had to move quickly to escape them. These security firms are allowed a free hand in the cities and frequently help the military to brutally put down riots or protests.

“On our third day in Mallarctaia we witnessed the rape and execution of a young woman in front of the main gates of the Alpha Chem Pharmaceutical corporation. We can’t show you the footage due to its brutality but we can attest that this act was perpetrated by the security firm employed by Alpha Chem—”

Lady Tanya Bryce, Governor of Chimaea, pressed the button on the remote control and the wall opposite her desk turned opaque once more. The lights in the room brightened automatically as she looked at the grim faces of the people who sat around her desk.

“This is beyond belief.”

Marcus Kennald, the Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade, nodded. “My people are investigating the claims in the report, my Lady, but... well we have tens of thousands of large private commercial businesses which may be involved in offshore manufacturing, processing or other activity. They may also outsource such activity to offshore companies. Additionally, there are many international corporations in which Chimaean companies have some sort of stake or ownership.”

Lady Bryce shook her head wearily. “This came out under my watch, Marc. The Opposition is going to go to town on this. Did you see that city? It was something out of some horror movie! This is right in our regional backyard! This shit puts Iesus Christi to shame!”

Maria Fazzolari, the head of one of Chimaea’s nameless Intelligence agencies, coughed drily. “It’s not like we didn’t know about this, Governor.”

Lady Bryce looked astonished. “What?”

Fazzolari shrugged. “Mallarctaia has been the world’s dirty little secret for a long time. It used to be a slave colony back in colonial times, there were a lot of plantations and mines there. Then the old empires left, granting the slaves freedom. But it was a mish-mash, see... a hundred different nationalities, a hundred different languages and cultures. Governments rose and fell every week or so. There was a fair bit of investment and stability a long while back and their megacities grew from that... a really weird mix of the old world and the new. State of the art technology coexisting with ancestor worship, voodoo, Christianity, Buddhism... the rites and customs of the world thrown together with technology.”

Lady Bryce shook her head. “So what happened?”

“Money happened! The megacities spawned the corporations, which attracted international corporations, which attracted other international corporations... the Government, what little of it was left, became just a glorified gang controlled by big business.”

“Why didn’t anyone intervene?”

Fazzolari smirked. “Because places like this allows the rest of the world to live the way we do, Governor. This is where our goods are made. Weapons, cars, clothes, toys... the affordability of Mallarctaia industry balances out the expense of our own production. In our region, especially, Mallarctaia stabilises our economies on the blood of their people.”

Kennald frowned. “Surely it can’t be—”

“Oh, of course, Minister, this is a simplification...” she waved a perfectly manicured hand. “But an accurate simplification nonetheless. We profit from their suffering.”

Lady Bryce scowled. “Then this stops, right now! I want these corporations brought to justice!”

“No, Governor. If you stopped what’s happening there by prosecuting the Chimaean corporations, there’ll be millions suddenly out of work. We could have a major recession on our hands! The stock market would collapse overnight.”

“For fuck’s sake, Maria, these people are driven to cannibalism!”

Kennald was nodding slowly. “She’s talking sense, my Lady—”

Lady Bryce threw up her hands in disgust. “Oh, wonderful! Et tu, Marc?”

“Hear me out. I don’t like it any more than you do, but a sudden clamping down on big business would result in a collapse. However... a gradual shift in Mallarctaia itself may bring about a more positive reaction. Humanitarian economics and all that.”

“Humanitarian economics.” Lady Bryce repeated sourly.

“Exactly. Let’s say that we react with horror to this news report—”

“I am reacting with horror to this news report!”

“Capital! So we gather a group of concerned nations together and send some sort of intervention taskforce. Bring order back to... uh... what’s the place they filmed in?”

Fazzolari flicked a page from her tablet computer. “Portias Espesaia.”

“Right, there. We send in a multinational force, get some law and order at street-level, stabilise the situation. Then slowly we start enforcing corporate regulations there. It will take some time but the change will be gradual and hopefully it will have a domino effect on the rest of Mallarctaia.”

Lady Bryce shrugged. “Sounds like too little, too late to me.”

“It is too little, too late,” Fazzolari interjected. “But it’s the way to bring about real change to a place like that.”

Lady Bryce sighed. “All right. I’ll think on it and consult with General de Santuro. In the meantime, Marc, if you’d be so kind as to make an outraged remark in front of the cameras...?

Kennald smiled. “Count on it, my Lady.”

“Then this meeting is over. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Kyriak Arelei, Helladria’s Secretary of Foreign Trade sat in her office on her fourteenth business call of the day centered on the emerging scandal that several large Helladric businesses were purchasing mostly intermediate goods made from corporations that operated in Mallarctaia. Her department knew about the secretive nature of the country, but with the weakness of its government, Helladria never felt that it had a strong need to gather intelligence. All the same, any diplomat who could be called competent knew that such a closed system wasn’t possible without suppressing the rather chaotic tendencies of a population. Her department had warned these people. Her department warned the whole Helladric Chamber of Commerce of what would happen if that country showed itself as a tyranny. Unfortunately, the low hanging fruit was too much for some businesses, and now she was getting dragged into the same mess.

“No, you listen to me Zino, word’s already out that the Olympia Corporation does business with Alpha Chem. The people aren’t going to stand for this, and we’re not going to be dragged down with you.”

“Now hold on a minute, Monomme Arelei. We can’t just find a new supplier at the drop of a hat. I need you to be patient,” Zinofim Agyri, CEO of Olympia Corp replied seeking a reprieve.

“I can’t be patient Zino. You’ve had ample warning about the potential for something like this, and you didn’t act. The people are going to want blood, and if necessary we’ll let them have yours.”

Zinofim sighed, “You know that there isn’t much you can do. We don’t sell many civilian arms and less than ten percent of our sales are domestic. We’re well insolated against unpopularity. We’ll try to get this thing worked out as quick as we can but let’s leave threats off the table.”

Secretary Arelei simply brushed Zinofim’s claims of invulnerability aside, “The hell there isn’t anything we can do,” Kyriak shot back. “How about suspend your export license.”

“You can’t do that,” Zinofim replied with a slight quiver of suspicion in her voice.

“You’re trading with someone who is about to be blacklisted by Parliament, and if you don’t drop your connections immediately, you’re going to find yourself in violation of national law. If that happens, you’ll be lucky if a suspended export license is all you got. And then there’s President Soldeo’s last campaign on exporting liberalism, and you’re providing fodder for the Liberals to say that ohr policy failed miserably. Ohs’ll definitely have the whole Department of Standards and Compliance breathing down your neck.”

“Shit. Don’t do this, Kyri,” she begged. “We’re not the only company involved in this problem. If you make us all divest from these guys so quickly, we’re going to undergo massive restructuring, and those of us who don’t go bankrupt will make huge cuts entailing layoffs and who knows what else.”

“Well, that brings me to my third option since you’re so reluctant about this. If you sign on to our plan we won’t require you to dump them, at least not immediately. I want you to join with the other companies in Helladria that are involved in Mallarctaia and convince them to let in a stabilization force. If you do that, we’ll look the other way on this matter, so long as you remain cooperative.” By now this whole conversation was a well rehearsed script for Kyriak that became more refined with each call.

“That’s easier said than done, monomme,” Zinofim replied. “We don’t have a presence in that country. We’re just a client.”

“So is everyone else Zino, but in a cesspool like Mallarctaia, being an important client is enough for your words to carry enormous weight. You don’t have to give me an answer now, but I want your reply before the markets open tomorrow. President Soldeo’s going to make an announcement around noon and we need to know who’s going to help us out and who’s going to be on the sidelines. I think it would be healthiest for Olympia Corp, if you’re a player.”

Zinofim’s voice was silent for a moment. “I understand, Monomme Secretary,” she said flatly. “I’m going to hold an emergency conference call with the Board of Directors and we’ll go from there. Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all. I want to hear a good answer as soon as possible.”

“Then I’ll take my leave. We’ll talk again soon.” Zinofim hung up the phone.

“Well, there’s another one down,” Kyriak remarked to herself.

The rest of her department was just as busy. Her staff was making the same calls to less important companies, and still researching who had ties to Mallarctaia. So far, of the largest one hundred companies in Helladria, twenty had already been confirmed to have significant ties to Mallarctaian businesses, and of late, a new confirmation came to her office every half hour. It may have been troublesome for the administration to be implicated in this scandal, but at least it provided leverage against Mallarctaia they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

She picked up the phone to begin her next call.

Special Session of Parliament
Time: 08:27

Prime minister Jezrahla Shrazali and the heads of the Foreign and Trade ministries sat in the parliament building reviewing materials concerning the nation of Mallarctaia which had recently been brought to their attention. The head of the Exterior Ministry, Zora Niklos, sat silently watching these individuals peruse what she had presented them.

The information of course had only come after a month long information gathering mission in Mallarctaia. A mission that had only been set in motion after whispers of the deplorable situation in Mallarctaia had reached her ears. It was an eye opening endeavor that resulted in the gathering of a surprising amount of data but also the death of one of the team members, Hahzra Payadieh.

Jezrahala finished reviewing the materials before her, checked that the others had finished, and then signaled the moderator.

“The prime minister has the floor,” announced the moderator.

The prime minister stood and spoke, “ Why are we only now receiving this information Niklos? Surely we have the resources to keep at least a small presence within this troubled nation?”

“With all due respect prime minister, the intelligence community has deemed Mallarctaia a low interest area, considering our need to monitor Zoltab and their occupied territory of Ichi-Aochi. While we had a very basic knowledge of Mallarctaia, information does not often find its way out of this nation. And perhaps you should also address the trade minister if you wish to clear things,” responded Zora as she straitened her glasses and smoothed her blonde hair.

The trade minister, Nasree Amala, an indignant look on her face, stood up quickly and retorted, “And what precisely should I be asked Niklos?” The moderator looked at Nasree Amala and asked to take her seat. Amala grudgingly sat and pulled up the scrunchie holding back her long dark hair.

The prime minister continued, “ I understand the situation, but that should not have prevented us from at least keeping a token presence within Mallarctaia.” Jezrahla looked thoughtful for a moment, and continued, “On the other hand, why we did not have a presence is something to be discussed at another time. What is important now is what we should do.” She turned her to face Nasree Amala and then addressed her, “Amala, I understand that two of Ali-Zebu’s largest companies and other smaller ones have been doing business within Mallarctaia. What can you tell me about this?”

Nasree Amala stood and coarsely responded, “ What you say is true prime minister. Ragochev Industries and Kesree Technologies have both been doing business within the borders of Mallarctaia. On that note, I have just contacted both companies and they should be joining us via video momentarily.” Nasree then turned her brown eyes to the moderator and asked her to initiate the video. The chiefs of both companies appeared on a video screen that ascended from the floor of the chamber.

After some time discussing Mallarctaia with both companies it was discovered that neither had sent any representatives to their facilities in Mallarctaia for some time and when they had, they had been received in locations away from the beating heart of that nation. Most communication had been conducted through electronic means.

After the two companies had disclosed what they could, the Foreign Minister, Pouvar Ostasi, was given the signal that she could now speak.

“It seems evident to me that in order to improve conditions in Mallarctaia, we need to put pressure on that government’s corporate overlords. It is my opinion that we should send a delegation consisting of representatives from the foreign ministry and both Ragochev Industries and Kesree Technologies to Mallarctaia.”

Pouvar Ostasi sat down and turned her green eyes toward the prime minister, who was then signaled by the moderator.

Jezrahla Shrazali then addressed the chamber, “ I agree with the foreign minister, but perhaps our intentions would be clearer if we were to also send a contingent of troops to observe the situation?” She sat down and her suggestion was discussed among those present in the parliament chamber. After several hours of discussion it was decided that the delegation should be sent and that any deployment of troops should first discussed with the Union’s regional neighbors and the government of Mallarctaia itself.

“Now that we have this initial business taken care of, I suggest we break until we can discuss this with the other nations,” said Jezrahla, scanning the chamber with her hazel eyes. Everyone else agreed and the session ended.

Jezrahla Shrazali let out a sigh as she left the chamber. “This is quite the issue,” she thought as she walked to her vehicle, “Perhaps some time at the beach will help me consider how to discuss this with the rest of parliament and the other nations.” She said a few words to her driver and they soon arrived at Rose Beach. Jezrahla put on her wetsuit, grabbed her longboard, and then paddled out.

Portias Espesaia, Alpha Chem Pharmaceuticals Corporation

Levi Coates, Director of Alpha Chem Pharmaceuticals (Production and Innovation), scratched distractedly at his left shoulder as the widescreen television footage of the New Sydney Times report came to an end. The Committee members looked from the television to him expectedly, with slightly worried expressions.

He ventured a reassuring smile which they dutifully returned. “This is a minor setback, ladies and gentlemen, I reassure you!”

The man sitting at the other end of the long, polished wooden table hadn’t returned his smile and looked annoyed, which was his normal expression. He wore a black uniform with the Alpha Chem logo emblazoned on it, over which he wore the synthetic leather greatcoat which doubled as a protective covering against the poisonous atmosphere outside. The word ‘security’ was set into his uniform.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Coates, but this is a worrying development if there is any action on the ground as a result of this. I don’t know if we can fight a war, sir.” His voice had a definite Irish bur to it.

There were worried murmurs along the table and the rustling of suits. Levi shook his head and smiled again. “Whatever comes of this, Mr. Vaughan, I reassure you that we will be in the best of positions to handle it. This is certainly bad press, however I very much doubt any intervention will be to a major scale. We are an adaptable, innovative and dynamic company, Mr. Vaughan.”

Vaughan shrugged. “With your permission I’d like to consolidate the area around our territories, then. I would like the men to be armed with CR60s in case of any hostilities.”

Levi smiled again. “Please take whatever measures you see fit, Mr. Vaughan. Alas, there is also the matter of the... indiscretion on the part of your team...”

Vaughan looked blankly at him. “The what?”

“The woman mentioned in the report, Mr. Vaughan. The woman your men were... attending to?”

Vaughan shrugged. “What about it, sir?”

“Perhaps they should be more... discrete?”

Vaughan almost laughed but held it in. “My men get bored, Mr. Coates. The woman was just a factory worker of no importance. I’ll tell them to be more careful next time.”

The Committee all smiled in approval. Levi clapped his hands together. “Perfect! In that case, I shall move onto the next item, our meeting with the President. I have informed the President that this report has brought our meeting forward somewhat, you will all be pleased to know that I will be having a working lunch with him later today. I am sure we can look forward to his cooperation at this time.”

* * *

Portias Espesaia, Presidential Palace

His Most Gracious Excellency the President of Mallarctaia stretched languidly in his deck chair and breathed in a deep lungful of purified air. The water of the synthetic lake – realistic enough to have gentle tides synchronised to the moon, or to music – glistened a beautiful crystal-clear blue, throwing a kaleidoscope of liquid light onto the enormous domes roof. In the corner of the chamber, four scantily-clad young women played violins and flutes in a soothing melody.

The President’s name was Cino Garcia Calabresi, although he made the many women he bedded call him ‘El Presidente’. Usually dressed in a sombre black suit with a strange, shiny velvet top hat and a midnight-blue bow tie, he had developed a cult following by his military and bureaucracy and, he liked to think, the many corporations which had made his life what it was. The Presidential Palace was built with the money from private industry and large donations from the corporations—President Calabresi believed sincerely in flaunting his power and wealth.

Suspended above the deckchair, slightly to the right, was a large frame which was bolted to the floor. The frame stretched in an up-side down ‘L’ shape and tied to it with steel wires was the still-living but vivisected body of a young man, his torso sliced open. The blood which poured out of his wounds was funnelled into a stone pot beside the deckchair, already nearly full. Occasionally, the body would twitch.

Shorn of his official attire, the President was wearing a pristine white t-shirt and neatly pressed trousers. Despite his traditional image of voodoo and sorcery, he preferred wearing white. In a polluted country of acid rain and filth, white was pure.

There was a gentle chime and the President opened his eyes as a door set discretely into the marble walls hissed open. An aide walked up to him on bare feet and whispered in his ear. He nodded and the aide left as quietly as he’d come in. After a moment, Levi Coates walked through the door.

The President sat up and smiled widely, showing perfect teeth. “Director Coates,” he purred, “This is an honour, as always.”

Levi returned his smile with a perfect one of his own. “Mr. President, the honour is always mine.” They both waited as two scantily-dressed women carried an ornate wooden chair and placed it beside the deckchair. Levi sat, a little gingerly.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Chimaean news report, Mr. President?” he enquired.

The President nodded. “Ah yes. A very unfortunate report. Should I be concerned, Director?”

Levi smiled again. “Not concerned at all, Mr. President, however we will have to... make certain allowances.”

For the first time, a small crack appeared in the President’s demeanour. “Allowances?” he asked worriedly.

Levi nodded, watching the steady trickly of blood from the young man’s body into the stone pot. “There have been calls, Mr. President, from many nations to... stabilise the situation in Portias Espesaia. The Office of the Chimaean Foreign Minister has been in contact with Alpha Chem’s CEO. I believe questions were asked in the Ali-Zebu Union’s Parliament. Our sources say Helladria’s Government is also stirring. Alpha Chem’s partners in Olympia Corp are worried. Ragochev Industries and Kesree Technologies is distancing themselves from their operations here.”

The President looked increasingly angry. “Sodomy and hellspawn! Portias is as stable as any of those countries!”

Levi leaned in slightly, staring into the President’s eyes calmly. “This is so, Mr. President. Yet we need to keep our partners happy, and our consumers, too. We can’t let... funding and investment... dry up, can we?”

The President bit his lip. “What do you recommend, Director?”

Levi smiled once more. “Let them come, Mr. President. Let them ‘stabilise’. And then we can show them... our way of business.”

The President smiled too. “Yes... yes. I can see that.” He snapped his fingers and waiters started to appear, carrying tables and servings of delicacies. “Thank you for your words, Director. May your ancestors bless you this day.”

Levi inclined his head gracefully.

The President dipped a finger in the warm blood that had filled the pot beside him, then still grinning, rubbed it over his teeth.

“Shall we eat?”

* * *

To all concerned nations of the world,

We in Mallarctaia have nothing to hide. We have been done this grave disservice by the New Sydney Times and we wish to prove to you that we are an adaptable, innovative and dynamic place to conduct your business.

To that end we welcome any and all official engagement with us, at all levels. Send us your observers and we will show them that our people love their President and their work. We have nothing to hide.

With warmest regards,
Cino Garcia Calabresi
President of the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia.

As expected, word spread rapidly about the revelation in Mallarctaia. Nikol Emetriou, host of one of Helladria’s midday business news programs sat before the cameras opening her discussion with a summarization. “Stocks fell five percent in early trading today after news broke over the weekend about the nature of one of the Empire’s larger trading partners, Mallarctaia. The exposé, first released in the Commonwealth of Chimea, paints a grim picture about a failed state, in which massive international corporations are free to conduct any affairs of their choosing with impunity. Loss of life from easily preventable accidents is a routine occurrence simply because machinery is not equipped with basic safety devices, and the corporate security forces sexually assault people openly in public. I mean, am I reading this right, Iamanto? It sounds like it’s straight out of a movie script. Are we sure we aren’t just being taken for a ride?”

“Well, it’s enough to have the government involved,” her first guest replied. “Word has it this is the subject that President Soldeo will hold ohr press conference about later. If it is a ruse, the whole Helladric Empire is going to take first prize for gullibility, but frankly I think we’re on the mark.”

“I don’t know how you can say that,” Nikol’s second guest, Stephani interjected. “We’re sitting here, speculating about how some highly industrialized society, which is well integrated with the international community through trade, might be some sort of corporate police state that grinds its citizens into Soylent Green. This is rubbish. It’s obviously reclusive but it simply can’t be that oppressive. First, look at the amount of business they conduct. It’s not possible that such a discrepancy in wealth or political power could exist. If the wealth gap were so bad and such abuses were real, their people would be up in arms in revolution, already.”

Nikol’s third guest, Erike Askes threw in his hat. “Now hold on a minute. Look at how cheap the goods they sell are. If you take into account the price of their products on the open market and impose it into a highly oligopolistic model, you can derive that the marginal revenue product of each low level employee is miniscule. It’s entirely possible that these people amount to disposable resources. Based upon the sheer volume of revenue however, the only likely way in which Mallarctaia would achieve a universally good standard of living with its current economic model is with a highly redistributionist system. This is somewhat improbable since Mallarctaia is such a major corporate destination, but not out of the realm of possibility with some Coasian reasoning.”

Iamanto spoke again, “Yes, but we know the history of Mallarctaia with other nations. They don’t really produce anything, even today, that shows evidence of requiring high skilled labor. They were a slave colony, and before the establishment of their current system they were never a nation of academics or traders. Instead they have tended to opt for the populist solution to political matters. The likelihood that they have worked out a Coasian solution is rather slim.”

The second guest spoke, “I can’t believe you, ommer, buying into the propaganda so readily. You said it yourself Iamanto, these people opt for the populist solution. There’s no way they would sit idly by and trade one set of chains for another.”

“I agree in part,” he responded, “but the likelihood that Mallarctaia grants extralegal power to its corporations is greater than the likelihood of having a wealth sharing system. First of all, you would expect that as with any nation, there would be dissidents and demonstrators, but we haven’t heard a peep in years. No communications. At. All. Also, if there were a redistributionist system, Mallarctaia likely wouldn’t be such a corporate destination. They’d simply find somewhere cheaper to build. And if those reasons weren’t enough, look at the way the markets have been behaving. Numerous open memos have been issued by the DFT to the Chamber of Commerce, warning not to do business with firms based in Mallarctaia. The high volume traders know that the firms implicated in this are on the chopping block and they’re abandoning ship. If it were just a ruse, there wouldn’t be such a massive retreat to riskier assets.

“Thank you, mesommer,” Nikol interrupted. “This is a fascinating conversation, but I’ve just received word that President Chrysanthe Soldeo has begun ohr press conference. Let’s listen in.”

Chrysanthe Soldeo stood before the podium, dressed in a long, solid black pleated kilt, a white half inch 5 pleated formal shirt with a banded collar and a black frock coat. At an even six feet in height, she had long grey hair pulled into a loose ponytail and piercing brown eyes. Despite her greying hair, Chrysanthe had not lost the physical attractiveness that helps so many high profile politicians win their terms in office. As expected, she made her appearance because of the scandal in Mallarctaia.

“…has been a closed book to us for decades. My administration has actively discouraged trade with Mallarctaia due to their opaque government, but we have not had any definitive basis to halt trade. My staff has been working around the clock sorting who has and hasn’t been involved with Mallarctaian firms, and we have discussed possible solutions with the Birden administration. Because of the sensitive nature of the situation, compounded by the recent change in the trade status of Mallarctaia, we have agreed upon attempting to confirm the situation, and if necessary work with the Mallarctaians toward correcting any problems. We owe our domestic enterprises respect for their willingness to help us convince the Mallarctains, and their continued cooperation with our endeavors shall exempt them from operating on the wrong side of the law. The Federated Empire of Helladria therefore, shall send a small force deployed from the Peace Corps under Convention II. It will conduct observation and possibly stabilization if the need calls for it. The Helladric Empire will likely be a part of a larger force of observers including the nations of Ali-Zebu and Chimaea.”

Upon concluding her announcement, the press members immediately began their inquisition. “Why hasn’t the government gathered information on Mallarctaia before now?”

“They have been low importance to be quite honest. With all the nations in the world, our attentions are divided, so we generally need a good reason to conduct espionage and in this case there was none. The government itself is viewed to be weak in terms of hard power,” she answered.

“Do you think it wise that we have a new Peace Corps deployment when we’re already deeply enmeshed in the affairs of New Edom?”

“The New Edom issue is a much larger deployment than what we are considering. It likely won’t even be a tenth the size. And as for their responsibilities, I trust the commanders in the field to make the appropriate decisions. What one deployment does should not affect the others. Thank you,” she said, as she turned and left the press room. The cameras flashed and the roar just became louder as she walked out.

“And there you have it, mesommer.” Nikol Emetriou returned to the screen. “It looks like the Soldeo administration is going to send more Helladrians overseas because of this. Stephani, are you still convinced that this is all a ruse?”

“I’m not going to believe it until I see it, but I’ll tell you I am surprised. I am glad that Soldeo’s not going to be persecuting these companies just because some unforeseen revelation came to light though.”

“Unforeseen?!” Iamanto asked exasperated. “How can you say that? There is ample evidence that this administration like those before it cautioned against business with Mallarctaia. Neither the exposé, nor the fallout from it should be a surprise.”

In his usual habit of claiming the last word, Erike Askes spoke again. “Look unforeseen is not unforeseeable. I agree that if the Soldeo administration didn’t know about this, then the companies shouldn’t be expected to know about it either. Anyone who is serious about behavioral correction, or frankly even justice, should know that if you don’t want people doing business with a shady organization, just prohibit it. Don’t suddenly change the rules midstream.”

“Not you too Erike,” Iamanto responded again. “The rules were never changed. These companies have been playing with fire against the advice of the DFT. Suddenly, just because their gamble turned out poorly, people expect that these firms shouldn’t face the consequences of their own actions.”

Erike retorted, “Iam, you know Homo economicus doesn’t exist. You can’t just expect people are going to automatically make the right choice at every turn.”

“Obviously not, but these are professionals. It’s their job to make the right decisions, and if they can’t do it, their job should belong to somebody who can. You can’t just excuse someone every time a mistake of this magnitude is made. You’re fostering unnecessary moral hazard.”

“Alright mesommer, we need to go on a break,” Nikol said as the conversation started to devolve. “We’ll be right back with our panelists after these messages.”

OOC: That post was fascinating.

-----------

New Sydney, Chimaea

Lady Bryce stroked her fingers through the Great Dane’s short fur, watching him lie contentedly – if rather heavily – across her lap. His eyes were open but he was definitely relaxing, a lazy grins across his snout, his tongue hanging out slightly. She could feel the dog’s breathing on her legs.

Usually, petting her dogs was a calming moment in her otherwise hectic life, but Lady Bryce felt anything but calm at the moment. Sitting across from her was General Sebastian de Santuro, the Commanding Officer of the Chimaean Armed Forces, and Brigadier Amina Asfaha. General de Santuro was a tall man with grim, lean features and an intense, cold stare; Brigadier Asfaha, in contrast, was a compact-looking woman with dark skin and charcoal eyes. Both were dressed in non-descript Army fatigues, only the epaulettes on their shoulders betraying their rank.

General de Santuro had unfolded a map of Mallarctaia on the coffee table between them, the city of Portias Espesaia emphasised. There were red, blue and white circles on the map but Lady Bryce’s bad mood was focussed on what the General was saying.

“...During the Styles Administration, Governor. A lot of military contracts were awarded to Clock Hill companies, which in turn manufactured a lot of military hardware in Mallarctaia. The CR60, for example, is completely manufactured by Ironwillow International these days.”

Lady Bryce frowned. “The CR60? Surely no Chimaean units use that anymore?”

“It’s not the CR60 as you’re familiar with. It’s a stripped down, cloned version without any of the advanced fire systems—actually it resembles the kinetic part of the old CR65A1, or a longer Styer Aug. It’s being exported by Ironwillow to other, less militarily advanced nations as a way of cheaply keeping up with the Joneses, so to speak.” General de Santuro grimaced. “There have been reports that the CR60 has surfaced in Street Island and other hotspots.”

“Please tell me that the CR65A5 isn’t manufactured there. Please.”

“No, no, nothing of the sort! The CR65 in all its varieties is manufactured in Chimaea.”

Lady Bryce breathed a terse sigh. “All right. So CAF has a history in Mallarctaia due to the lunacy of Reginald fucking Styles. Wonderful. This is going to look fantastic on the six o’clock news.”

General de Santuro nodded and didn’t reply. Brigadier Asfaha shifted uncomfortably.

After a moment, Lady Bryce drummed her fingertips lightly on the back of the Great Dane. “All right. There have already been protests in all the cities, millions of letters written, petitions... and when Parliament gets going there’s going to be hell to pay. People want to see us doing something. Give me the options.”

General de Santuro nodded and opened a leather folder on his lap. “Governor, there’s a lot of talk about ‘stabilisation’, related to the situation we saw in the news report. So ‘stabilisation’ in this sense means law and order, curbing the control of the corporation’s private security firms and humanitarian assistance. My Lady, my most heartfelt recommendation is a complete, nation-wide peacemaking operation. Seventy thousand Army personnel, the establishment of Navy supply lines and the takeover of every major infrastructure within forty-eight hours. We engage every military force and capability in Mallarcataia at once, overwhelmingly. We can have full, secure aid delivery in a week.”

Lady Bryce shook her head. “We can’t go it alone, General, and we can’t go in force. There’s too much foreign interest in this already. For the moment, concentrate on securing Portias Espesaia.”

General de Santuro nodded resignedly. “In that case, Governor, and depending on how the international community responds, I suggest a force consisting of six hundred Army personnel including seventy-five special forces, a Mechanised Battalion with supporting heavy and light armour, two mobile heavy artillery units and support personnel of about five hundred. We can organise with the Navy for choppers, that shouldn’t be a problem. Air strikes are a possibility but it’s risky, the chance of collateral damage is high if we get into that sort of engagement in a city that size. Let’s not forget what happened in St. Cypher.”

Lady Bryce winced. “Don’t remind me. Do you think six hundred soldiers will cut it?”

For the first time, Brigadier Asfaha spoke; her voice was husky but carried a natural authority. “We will be using the Tactical Urban Operations Corp, Governor. I will be commanding them personally. You have my word that we are the best available for this mission.”

Lady Bryce regarded the Great Dane on her lap contemplatively. “Well... all right. We will be under the charter of the Assembly of Nations’ Defence Council. This is our first ASN military operation, isn’t it?”

“First major operation, yes.”

“All right, then. I’ll brief Ambassador Thomsen in the morning.” She met Brigadier Asfaha’s eyes. “This is in your hands, Brigadier. I have faith in you.”

“You won’t find me wanting, Governor.” Both soldiers stood, saluted and walked out of the room.

Lady Bryce leaned over and laid her head gently on the Great Dane’s back, feeling the large dog’s warmth radiate on her skin. “Looks like we’re in for some rough times...” she muttered. “I’m glad you’re not a dog of war. Or are you?”

But the Great Dane was already asleep.

***ENCRYPTED :: CONFIDENTIAL***
To: Governments of Helladria and Ali-Zebu Union
From: General Sebastian de Santuro, Chimaean Armed Forces
RE: Mallarctaia Situation

My Government has authorised communication prior to official endorsement of ASN Defence Council to build momentum on possible deployments. Out commitments as attached. Suggest ports at Hermosa Juda as initial staging point, followed by helicopter and land insertion into Portias Espesaia.

General de Santuro
CAF HQ, New Sydney

“And let us pray that ever wise Azmara will bring wisdom into the hearts and minds of those who rule the suffering people of Mallarctaia. And let Asmara bring hope to these poor people so that they may know happiness once again.” Magi Meiczya Jantyka then paused, closed her eyes momentarily, and then concluded her sermon. “May wisdom guide your hearts and minds.”
People trickled out of the temple in the city of Kolski and could be heard making comments such as, “Those poor people.”, “It’s despicable how that government treats its people!”, and “We should go over there and give them a nice booting.”

Word of the situation in Mallarctaia had spread rapidly across the Ali-Zebu Union. It had only been a few days since the news report from Chimaea and prime minister Shrazali’s press conference had aired. TV talk shows, the internet, newspapers, and magazines were abuzz with the word Mallarctaia. Many wondered how the situation had remained unknown for so long but even more wanted to know what the Union planned to do about it.

Prime minister Jezrahla Shrazali sat in her office listening to the Minister of Defense, Editta Mavar.

“ I think you would agree with me Jezrahla that we need a strong military presence within Mallarctaia and not just some firm words directed at the government. Tyrants like that need to be shown that oppression of their people will not be tolerated.” Editta broke off, flipped her fiery red hair across her left shoulder, and awaited a response.

“I see the point you are trying to make Editta, so what kind of deployment would you suggest?”, asked Jezrahla, gauging her old friend.

“I would recommend that we mobilize several units from the Expeditionary Force and the Foreign Legion with possible support from the both the navy and the airforce.”

Jezrahla interjected, “What size force are you talking about Editta and what kind of support?”

Editta let her lips form a slight smile before she continued, “ Oh, some thing like ten-thousand boots on the ground, a few squadrons, and perhaps a carrier battle group.”

Jezrahla held in a sigh and responded, “That is not an insignificant deployment you suggest Editta. I agree that some presence is needed, but a force of that size, coupled with the fact that this is not an issue only for the Union makes your suggestion impractical.”

As if expecting this response, Editta casually continued, “So I assume you want to bring this up in the ASN Defense Council, Jezrahla?”

“Why of course Editta, and our representative is already at the ASN headquarters, ready to discuss and vote on intervention within Mallarctaia.”

“I suppose I will keep an eye on this Defense Council meeting then. Well, I should be going Jezrahla. Perhaps we could have a more casual discussion at Almetta’s sometime soon?”

“I appreciate the visit Editta and perhaps, if time allows, I will take you up on your offer.”

The conversation concluded and the two women gave the traditional embrace before Editta left the office. Jezrahla sat considering her old friend. They had attended the same university and had become friends at that time. When it came to politics though, they differed greatly. Jezrahla headed the Union Party while Editta was a member of the Aegis Party. And Editta embodied her party well. So many in the Aegis Party bordered on the jingoist side while others had crossed over into jingoism altogether. “ She can be difficult,” thought Jezrahla as she stared at the papers, especially the confidential document from the Chimaean general, on her desk.

The National Legislature, Fineberg, New Edom

“Order! Order! Damn it!” shouted the Chairman of the National Legislature. It was like whistling into a typhoon. People, men and women, were on their feet, shouting, shaking fists, waving fingers, and he pointed and yelled to the Chief Sergeant-At-Arms as he saw someone actually pulling a knife. Rising, his black and scarlet robes doing no good, he grabbed the megaphone a friend had advised him to bring. “IF YOU DO NOT SIT DOWN AND COME TO ORDER I WILL BE FORCED TO ORDER THE ROOM CLEARED!”

Muttering, grumbling, snarling obscenities, the worthy and honourable representatives of the people of the Allied States took their seats, not without giving some menacing looks at their honorable and worthy opponents.

“Mr. Chairman,” said a grim old man, rising. Oh God, no, thought the Chairman. He said in as firm a voice as he could manage, “The Chair recognizes the Honorable Legislator from Nass.”

“Mr. Chairman,” the grim old man said, “We are debating to no avail. Funding for student loans? A new budget for healthcare? Budget for education? The truth is that there is no money but a huge deficit. I am proposing that taxes be cut by 35%--“ he raised his voice, which was a stentorian bellow, “BY THIRTY FIVE PERCENT! Let us invite in private interests to cover our education and loans, and require that all non essential healthcare be covered by private funding! Mr. Chairman! I demand that we support tax cuts immediately!”

“And whose pocket are you in Mr. Bohun?” screamed an angry woman wearing glasses and a salmon and blue suit. “How many starving orphans are you ready to squash under your car?”

“Order!” roared the Chairman.

“I second the motion!” cried a Legislator, leaping to his feet.

“I motion we table the motion!” shouted another, slamming his fist down on his table.

An usher wended her way through the crowd, aghast at the air of hostility, and whispered into the ear of the Chair as she reached him, and handed him a note. He read it, and felt relieved, as the target would shift from him. “Honorable Legislators, let us pause a moment to hear an important message from the King’s Trade Advisor, Mr. Benjamin Kent!”

The dark skinned strongly built former Oil and Resources Minister, dressed in a three piece suit and walking with confidence arrived and went up to the Chairman’s desk. “Thank you, Mr. Chairman.” Kent was friendly and well liked even by his enemies and those who wanted him dead—it was hard to dislike that cheerful grin. He put on a pair of glasses and read from an electronic notebook. “Friends, honorable Legislators, it is my sad duty to report to you of unbelievable violations of human rights in Mallarctaia. Rapes, murders, starvation, and pollution on such a scale as to rival the greatest vileness of the most barbaric nations.” Kent looked around grimly. “I cannot stress enough to you, honorable Legislators, the importance of peace and freedom. Have we not all shed blood for it? Have we not all lost people we love for it? And does it not require of us a sense of responsibility? Freedom…freedom requires with it a sense of responsibility. There are some who have said that our defense industry serves no purpose. I submit to you that you can fight for peace. And we may yet have to step up our production to deal with the fact that I am asking you to consider a vote to send New Edomite peacekeepers—yes…New Edomite peacekeepers…to Mallarctaia.”

His words sank in. Even the most stupid of the Legislators realized that New Edom would have to step up the military industrial complex in order to meet the demands of an overseas deployment. It might be…it just might be…that they were saved for having to figure out the budget for at least a season.

The smartest Legislator was on his feet. “I call a vote for the creation of a commission to plan for armed intervention in Mallarctaia!”

Everyone nodded at that. A Commission! They could vie to serve on it, and vie to make sure that they got their constituents good jobs.

“I agree, I second the motion, for a commission to plan for armed intervention in Malantarctica!” called another Legislator.

“The Chair calls for a vote to create the commission to plan for armed intervention in Mall…” the Chair glanced at Kent who whispered something. “Mallarctaia! Let the National Legislature divide…ayes to the left, noes to the right!”

This was a near disaster as usual. It almost caused another fight, but fortunately the sergeants at arms felt no need to be gentle as they wielded heavy flashlights and fists and boots to get the Legislators separated, in spite of yells of “Damn it, out of my way!” “Your grandfather kissed my grandfather’s hairy ass, now MOVE!”

There is nothing in this world quite like realizing that someone is much worse off than you are and that you can benefit from it. Sif Finnhald nearly had tears of joy in her eyes as she received instructions from President Touchstone (who along with King Mark felt positively genial) to write a series of messages.

To Cino Garcia Calabresi,
President of the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia

We are deeply pleased to hear that your country is such an open book, and would like to take you up on the offer to see your nation. You have doubtless heard at least by rumor of our recent civil war and its amicable end. To this we say that we too know what it is to be maligned in spite of our best efforts, and hope that mutual investment in national resources in the form of trade agreements might result from a visit by senior officials of our country.

Sincerely,
President William Touchstone,
Allied States of New Edom

OOC: I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, so minimum post today. Your nation both amuses and interests me, Edom. Everyone's posting so far has been really high calibre!
-------------

Dear President William Touchstone,

It is with greatest honour that I read your message to me this morning.

I would most welcome a visit from your senior officials so that you can see for yourself the vast strides our nation has made in production, mining and investment. Mallarctaia opens its arms to the possibility of trading with you, such trade is benefitial to both ourselves, our nations and our beloved people.

My Office will be in touch with yours to organise this visit. Perhaps you can testify to the world that Mallarctaia is a wonderful place of hope and prosperity!

Sincerely yours,

Cino Garcia Calabresi
President of the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia

While the Commission on Mallarctaia was being formed, including sub-committees called such grandiose things as “The Sub-Committee of Economic Review for Mallarctaia” and “The Sub-Committee for Humanitarian Review for Mallarctaia” at a meeting at the Palace President Touchstone and King Mark coordinated a plan to deal with the situation. The Archbishop had become ill, possibly with bronchitis, and had sent an envoy in his place, the feline Bishop Malachi Zecharias. He had heavy lidded eyes, a smile cool as cream and white hair, a round face and a slow way of moving and speaking. It was said of him that he hadn’t actually said Mass in his diocese for fifteen years. He wrote books that were very popular and sat on a number of education related committees and boards. He pretty much said nothing at the meetings. Increasingly the Church of New Edom’s role in government was becoming symbolic. The Defense Minister was not present, as he was representing New Edom at an Adriatic League of Tyrrhenia council of Defense Ministers.

“We’re going to call this Operation Hydra,” said Touchstone, “Because it reflects the nature of the plan to date. There are essentially three heads. The first and most obvious head will be the mission to Mallarctaia which will be a trade and diplomatic mission. This is based on the following principles:
1. We lack sufficient intelligence on this matter. We don’t take our intel from journalists, however credible they appear to be. Part of this will involve our envoys actually getting a look and feel for their leadership.
2. We want to explore solutions other than sending military forces to police someone else’s country. We want a sense of what is possible.
The second head will be our intelligence gathering proper…John?”

John Kohath, the dry skinned homely Minister of Police, spoke up. “Our intention is to do what I call laying the sieve net. We will sweep up and analyze all intelligence regarding Mallarctaia, focusing on the large cities mainly. This will include everything from economic reports to internet sites to bank statements to shipping manifests. It will involve all possible listening traffic. We will make use of friendly satellite listening posts, send in one of our submarines to pick up on marine traffic, listen to their radio stations, record their television. While the diplomatic mission does its work, we will do ours, and prepare as full and comprehensive a report as we can. The Attorney-General,” he nodded to the often quiet but shrewd Sarah Carmel, “Will coordinate with us on all relevant matters of international law.”

King Mark, his handsome profile sharp and intent, spoke next. “I would like the Ministry of Defense to accomplish the following: that it should prepare a division strength unit for transport to Mallarctaia should it be required. There should be a sufficiency of protective and breathing gear, NBC vehicles, and field hospitals sent. I also believe that this is an excellent opportunity to see a demonstration of what our newly unified military forces can do. To this end I would like to make these recommendations for the senior commanders. Admiral Rand to command naval forces sent to Mallarctaia. Wing Commander Shimei to command air forces. And the Governor of Haran to command ground forces.”

Touchstone felt heat rush to his face. He couldn’t control it. “Sir, with all due respect, the Governor of Haran is in a key position.”

King Mark looked at Touchstone with apparent confusion. “I’m sorry, but he does have a Deputy Governor and a council—and my impression is that it is a very efficiently run province. In any case, he is one of our four best generals, is he not?”

Touchstone said, “Absolutely he is. However Hesperinus, Fenton and Nicanor are serving in a military capacity—“

“All of them in the midst of military operations currently. Nicanor is in command of general military security for the celebrations that are coming up. Hesperinus is in command of our forces in Krune; Fenton is in charge of the ground forces reorganization as a whole. Only Augrim is not actually commanding military units.” King Mark said firmly.

Everyone knew the other reason but would not say it. Mark wanted to reduce Touchstone’s power in Bara Province. With neighboring Haran Province controlled entirely by Augrim—in fact Augrim had more power there than either King Mark or President Touchstone had in New Edom as a whole—Touchstone could easily entirely control Bara and therefore the capital if he so chose. Touchstone vowed that he would make the King pay dearly for this, for forcing him to hoist his petard in front of the Joint Command Council like this.

“In any case, my dear President, it is my decision as to how our forces are deployed.” King Mark said, “Once a policy has been declared. Please rest easy on this, I’ll do my best not to break your Governor.” There were chuckles from the King’s Advisors present, Benjamin Kent, Prince Philip Tubal-Cain, Henry Achan.

Touchstone laughed with them; he had to or he would appear to have been successfully baited. “Alright, I’ll hold you to that, sir, but…Sif did you want to say something?”

Sif Finnhald uncrossed her legs and adjusted her position on her chair before crossing them again, knowing this would distract the men in the room a bit. “Yes Mr. President. I wonder how other nations and the Mallarctaians are going to see Augrim? He is one of our best commanders but he’s eccentric. This is partly why he’s Governor of Haran rather than say Minister of Trade.”

King Mark gave her a more friendly smile than he had Touchstone. “My dear lady, he’s hardly going to be acting as an ambassador. He’s going to be serving in an entirely military capacity.”

“Force commanders of peacekeeping groups often need to be much more diplomatic than senior officers who are merely serving in a war.” Sif said firmly. “I would like it noted on record that I have advised against this decision.”

The Royal Advisors’ grins faded. Had this happened? They did not believe.

King Mark lost his smile. “And the decision is mine to make.”
“Subject to the National Legislature and the elected government.” Sif felt sick in her stomach but elated as well. “With all due respect, Your Majesty. In other words, if we screw this up we’ll all of us look like idiots. Sir, this isn’t just politics.”

General Henry Achan said with barely withheld contempt, “Ms. Finnhald, you are not a military commander. You have never even washed dishes in an army mess.” Sif’s face flushed at this comment. “With the greatest…respect, His Majesty is the expert here, you are merely opinionated. Please have the courtesy to let him make the decisions.”

Touchstone decided to rescue his foreign minister. “Fair enough,” he said, leaning forward. “I want him to be overall mission commander then.”

The King glared at him. No mistake, it was a glare, the famous eagle stare. Touchstone wasn’t withered or cowed by it, he stared back. You arrogant out dated jerk, he thought as he looked at King Mark. “Admiral Rand has seniority.” The King said coldly.

“Either Augrim has overall command or I’m going to get the National Legislature to reconsider the whole thing and we’re pushing the budget even if we have to have another election or a national referendum on it.” Touchstone said. “Sir.”

Prince Philip Tubal-Cain smiled. “I think that’s reasonable, sir.” Turning to his brother-in-law, the King, he whispered to him, “Take it. This is getting out of hand. We have what we want generally anyway…and if Augrim fails he’ll be revealed for the glorified provincial bandit that he is.”

King Mark whispered back, “And if he succeeds he is the revolutionary hero that Touchstone makes him out to be.”

“Then we keep him away from Haran. We surround him with so much glory he can’t move.” Prince Philip urged him. “Even Touchstone will ultimately be glad to get rid of him…”

“We can hear you.” John Kohath said idly. They couldn’t but it stopped the conversation. The two men’s looks would have had Kohath in bloody sections on the floor if they could kill. And we were all getting along so well… he thought with cold amusement.

“Very well, Mr. President. You have your commander-in-chief for potential peacekeeping operations in Mallarctaia.” The King smiled. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I think we all have our duties, let us go about them.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” came the general murmur.

“It seems New Edom has expressed interest in the Mallarctaia situation.” thought prime minister Jezrahla Shrazali after reading the encrypted e-mail from Princess Yesmin. She pondered what the princess would think if she knew the Ministry of the Exterior had set up such elaborate security protocols on her computer. She pictured the princess’ surprised and slightly indignant face and smiled to herself. The young woman treated the prime minister as a hip older sister and Jezrahla could not help but accept the role.

“Time to get down to business, thought Jezrahla as she prepared a document for the Edomite Foreign minister.

To: Foreign Minister Sif Finnhald of New Edom
From: Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

I appreciate your nation’s interest in Mallarctaia and the fact you thought to inform us of your intent. I have notified the appropriate members of parliament and hope to hear something positive from them in short order. If intelligence concerning Mallarctaia is something your government requires, we might be able to offer you some.
On a different matter, I thank you Ms. Finnhald for the excellent hospitality you have shown Princess Yesmin. It seems she was quite impressed by you. I offer you the hospitality of Ali-Zebu if ever you visit our nation.
If you have any questions or concerns, I will be certain to bring them up in the next parliamentary session concerning Mallarctaia. May wisdom guide your heart and mind.

Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

Jezrahla finished typing out her message and printed it. She placed it in an envelope labeled “Discretion Required” and then rang the Foreign Ministry to pick it up. She then turned back to her computer and noticed something flashing. A message from the Ministry of the Exterior was waiting for her. After reading it, an annoyed look crossed Jezrahla’s face. “Why did the Helladrian emperor have to visit New Edom at a time like this?” sighed Jezrahla. “Now I will need the deputy prime minister to represent me in parliament while I make preparations to travel.”

---

Dervish
President and CEO of Ragochev Industries, Nanya Menski sat across the table from two other women that were the president and CEO of Kesree Technologies. They had chosen a high class restaurant named Dervish as the site for this meeting.

Nanya, a serious expressing planted on her face, turned her blue eyes toward her counterparts from Kesree Technologies. “It seems that both our companies find themselves in a difficult situation after that news report and the recent parliamentary session.” The other women nodded and spoke words in agreement. “We need to figure out how to manage this situation, considering our genuine lack of decent information on our facilities in Mallarctaia. Some serious PR work needs to be done. We must also consider lowering our investments in the Mallarctaian markets and possibly even a withdrawal. Neither option will leave us without a loss of profit, but if what is said about conditions in Mallarctaia are true, then we have little choice but to consider these options.” The other women looked seriously at Nanya before giving their agreement. The three continued to discuss the issue for some time before they payed their bills and left.
Nanya did not look forward to the meeting with the Trade Ministry tomorrow. The thought of it only added to the mountain of stress and problems that were mounting. “A nice swim will do me some good,” she thought as she stepped into her luxury vehicle and drove to her well appointed mansion. She swam for hours in her pool before retiring for the evening.

New Sydney Parliament House

"The Chair recognises the Member for Hymton, Leader of the Opposition.”

Winston Donald de August was an imposing man at the best of times. He was physically large—one of those men who was enormous to begin with and bordering on fat, his expensively tailored suit straining against his bulk. He had a determined, bulldog face with steely grey eyes and bushy eyebrows which, at the age of fifty-six, was turning grey.

In Parliament, however, with a bone to pick with the Governor, he seemed to loom over the whole multitude of the House of Representatives. “Mr. Speaker,” he boomed, the amplification system quite unnecessary, “It seems to me that this Government just can’t keep its hands clean! First the quagmire that is Street Island, then the disaster that was Rathanan—and who can forget thousands of our troops killed for little gain—”

There was a chorus of boos and jeers from the Government side of the House. The speaker banged on his gavel. “Order—order! Member for Slainsworth, Arcting and Morningwell! If we can get a semblance of order...? Thank you. Member for Hymton has the floor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Speaker. I was saying that the other side of the House seems to court controversy upon controversy. It seems that under the previous Democrat Government which was unseated by the military—I’m sorry, by her Ladyship’s own stepfather—”

Another chorus of jeers swelled up and Lady Bryce rolled her eyes and swivelled her chair with practiced nonchalance. The Speaker glared and the noise subsided.

“—The decision was made, Mr. Speaker, to export our arms manufacturing overseas, and not only overseas but to a country which forces its citizens into cannibalism, run by a bunch of armed rapist thugs...! For shame, Mr. Speaker, for shame! I demand to know why this little titbit of information was kept from the public eye—and surely the Government knew of the conditions in Mallarctaia? I find it ridiculous that our intelligence community can’t brief her Ladyship on something so crucial! Why wasn’t anything done sooner? Why this massive cover up?”

The Speaker sighed and turned to look at Lady Bryce. “Right of reply to the Governor.”

Lady Bryce stood and clasped her hands a little theatrically. “Thank you, Mr. Speaker. If my honourable colleague in the seat opposite can find the time between his dramatic recitations to play a constructive role in this Chamber, Mr. Speaker, he may have discovered that this information was published in the Government Gazette—which is a public record, or perhaps he’s forgotten this ‘little titbit’ of information...?”

There was laughter from the Government side and booing from the Opposition. The Speaker banged his gavel and glared threateningly.

“The sad reality, Mr. Speaker, is that everyone did know about this situation. Even the Honourable member opposite, as much as he would loudly deny it. We knew in the same way we know that the world used to profit from third-world exploitation, that pollution is changing the climate and has been for decades. We knew like the citizens of Nazi Germany knew that millions were being killed by their government. There was no intelligence failure here.” She took a deep breath, aware for once that she had the entire, undivided attention of the House and, through the cameras, of the nation.

“We knew. And it was convenient for us to think we didn’t. However, I will not sit idly by and pretend the problem away, a tactic, Mr. Speaker, that the Opposition employs on every occasion they’re forced to make a decision. That time has passed. I will act now, because actions speak louder than words. We have taken this case to the ASM Defence Council and we expect a decision shortly. Our diplomats are talking to the Mallarctaian Government. Our goals are clear and our message to the world is that we will not ignore the suffering of others to make a quick profit. We will not let Mallarctaia die unseen in the night!”

As the usual responses washed over her, Lady Bryce sat down. The lies came easily—big ones always do.

Portias Espesaia, Alpha Chem Pharmaceuticals Corporation

Levi Coates smiled wearily as the double doors of his private elevator opened onto the discrete hallway of his penthouse apartment atop the Alpha Chem Building in Portias Espesaia. The Alpha Chem Building was where the local offices of the company was located—an 88 story building where the complex business of controlling Alpha Chem’s local corporate empire was conducted. Impressive as it was, though, it was nothing compared to the Central Alpha Chem Headquarters on the outskirts of New Sydney, Chimaea. Eight towering skyscrapers meeting in the middle with an eight-storey complex surrounded by lush parklands which were open to the public in a nifty PR concept.

Coates had started work there as a Team Leader, won over from the Chimaean Federal public service with a hefty salary and benefits. His leadership qualities had been noticed in a short amount of time and within seven years he had been assigned the Directorship of Production and Innovation—the guts of the Corporation, producing the pharmaceuticals so much of the world benefited from, for a price.

It was now five years since he had arrived in Mallarctaia with his wife, who also worked for Alpha Chem as an Executive Manager in Finance. In Chimaea they’d have had to agree to extensive conflict of interest conditions; in Mallarctaia, no-one batted an eyelid.

He remembered the first time he’d seen Mallarctaia, as he exited the enclosed mobile passage from the door of his private aircraft to the terminal proper. The wide picture windows showed the airport, the few planes landing and taking off, and beyond the airport... was a scene from hell.

The fields beyond the airport were mostly barren, contaminated earth. The sparse plant-life that grew were grey-brown, clinging onto the ground in desperation. Rubble and broken buildings littered the fields—in fact, one still had the skeletal remains of an aircraft which had crashed through the fencing of the airport. The last time he had been there, the jet was still there, even more skeletal as those who eked a living on the edge of what civilisation existed broke parts of it for their homes. The scene had been lit in the eerie red glow of the sun hitting the poisoned clouds and smog.

Beyond the fields was the ghostly image of the megacity of Portias Espesaia, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other. The decaying, distant image of a poisoned city—new buildings amidst old factories, abandoned skyscrapers and rubble. A metal, plastic and concrete carcass, the decomposing flesh of the city held by bones of rebar and rusting cranes clawing forever upwards in a grotesque parody of violent death.

He had fallen in love.

Where many reacted with horror, he only saw potential. A place without laws, without rules and paperwork and politics. This was a human hell in a Corporate heaven.

As he walked through the short hallway and entered the living room, the lights brightened momentarily as his activity registered on the sensors, before dipping to an acceptable level of soothing ambience. The picture windows here were far more advanced than the ones in the Calabresi International Airport. The inner pane of glass tinted, darkened or lightened the image according to the conditions outside and controls inside, showing a bird’s-eye view of the sprawling megacity around them.

His wife, Kyra, was reclining on the comfortable, modular leather chaise lounge arranged in an arc around one portion of the picture windows. He paused a moment as he shrugged off his expensive suit jacket to admire her. She was thirty-two but looked twenty-five, tall and toned with perfect, unblemished pale skin and beautiful, sensuous features. She’d changed out of her business attire into a flowing silk dress which kissed her body as she moved in it, suggesting without revealing. He knew she wore nothing underneath it and he felt the familiar stirring in his groin and quickening of his heart as he looked at her.

She was perfect. They were perfect. The perfect couple, the King and Queen of their own empire in hell.

He kicked off his shoes and socks and walked to stand over her, looking down intensely. She had her eyes closed and a glass of wine held delicately in her long fingers and she smiled. “See anything you like, perv?” she purred teasingly.

He laughed and crouched down beside her. His lips were drawn to hers and their kiss was long and passionate. When he finally moved away slightly, she proffered him the glass of wine and he took a long sip.

“So how was work, darling husband?”

He smiled and put the glass down on the low, polished wood coffee table. “Annoying. The President is getting antsy. He always gets more bloodthirsty when he gets antsy. Do you know what he was doing when I saw him today?”

She smiled back. “Do tell.”

“He had some guy tied to a frame with his guts sliced open. He was draining the blood into a container. It looked positively Hammer Horror! I think it’s some sort of ritual sacrifice or something. Positively barbaric.”

She giggled and put a warm hand to the side of his face. He closed his eyes at the intimacy. “My poor love. Go and freshen up.”

When he returned from their bedroom part of the picture window had transformed into a LED screen. On it was jerky but high-definition camera footage. His wife was sitting upright on the lounge; on the coffee table in front of her was a large mirror upon which were ten lines of white powder. Next to it was a hollow metal tube, two glasses of wine, a box of tissues and a small, ornately decorated metal box, open to reveal several packets of white powder, pills and various other drugs.

He sat down beside her, dressed in a white bathrobe. “Well well. Looks like you’ve done some shopping while I was out.”

She smiled but her eyes were transfixed on the LED screen. For the first time he looked at it properly, then did a double-take. “Is this what I think it is?”

She glanced across at him. “Fuck yes. I managed to get the news footage from the New Sydney Times and the AV guys spliced it with the footage one of Vaughan’s goons took. The long-shots look fantastic, dearest, don’t you think?”

He stared at the pictures on the screen. A woman’s terrified face. Gas-masked security personnel, two of them holding onto her with gloved hands as they marched her towards the steel, reinforced gates.

He reached out and took a long sip of his wine. It was an expensive merlot from Northern Chimaea and it slid easily down his throat, leaving a warm glow in its wake.

The woman’s voice begging, pleading on the surround sound system...

His wife leaned forwards, picked up the metal tube and snorted a line of cocaine. She shook her head slightly as it burned the back of her nose, her long brown hair shimmering in the mood lighting. She passed him the tube and he copied the action, snorting another line off the mirror.

They were in front of the gates now. The security personnel started tearing at her clothes eagerly, their gloved hands seeking her warm skin...

“This is really good,” he gasped, leaning against his wife’s warm body. Their lips met again and the kiss was urgent, passionate, hungry.

Screams of pain and fear...

He ripped her dress open, the silk tearing soundlessly. He kissed down her neck and leaned her down on the wide leather cushions. She stared up at him, her eyes intense.

Carefully, he scooped up a line of cocaine in his fingers and sprinkled it across one of her breasts. Pressing his lips and nose against her warm skin, he inhaled the cocaine from her and she shuddered in pleasure.

Brutal, animal sounds of mindless sadistic violence...

She grabbed the back of his head with her hands, bringing her lips close to his. “Hard,” she growled, “Make me feel it tomorrow.”

He kissed her again. “To the sound of rape and death?”

“Gods... Fuck yes!”

The video ended half an hour later, the last bubbling sound of a death rattle fading away into darkness. Levi and Kyra Coates didn’t notice.

To Her Excellency Lady Bryce, Governor of Chimaea

It is with great happiness that we present our first official greetings to the great nation of Chimaea, one of the world’s greatest pillars of freedom. It is hoped that this letter finds you in good health and spirits. Your country is much admired for its balance of shrewd foreign policy, strong military force, excellent economy and wise politics.

You probably have had little occasion to be concerned with our little corner of the region of Tyrrhenia, with our civil wars and struggles. However New Edom has after much effort been re-unified by diplomatic compromise and pursuit of a balance of executive power and democracy, and we feel that we have something to offer the world as well in the realm of experience in establishing peace and harmony. To this end we are interested in approaching friendly nations to us such as Helladria and Ali-Zebu Union, and also your nation. We have focused on your country as the main news reports regarding Mallarctaia came from your nation. In addition to this corporate headquarters of business operations in Mallarctaia are in some very important cases located in Chimaea.

To this end we would like to propose a joint effort in dealing with the crisis in Mallarctaia. First of all, we propose a group delegation of special envoys sent in by interested nations. Perhaps a general meeting could take place which could organize this? Second, we propose that a joint peacekeeping force to organize humanitarian relief to the starving, to organize clean water and food and general assistance to the people, with the end goal in mind of providing greater sustainability.

If no one has made any suggestions yet, New Edom would be available for hosting the necessary meetings, though it is possible that there might be other preferences, to which we would gladly bow as the main thing is to do the good work, so to speak.

I have the honor to be,
William Touchstone,
President of the Government of the Allied States of New Edom.

William Touchstone looked at the fair haired slim foreign minister. Sif Finnald smiled. “What do you think?”

“Well, it’s not a bad letter at all, and thank you—to you and your staff that is. But has it occurred to anyone in the Foreign Ministry that this is kind of a bunch of crap? Chimaea is probably using Mallarctaia to do their dirty work while they remain a paradise on earth. In fact I feel positive that that’s the case.” Touchstone flicked the letter on his desk with irritation.

“The ball’s already rolling,” cautioned Trade and Commerce Minister Boris Gebrovic, the man seeming just plain too big for furniture. Not fat, just big, like a horse in a house. Hands that seemed like bunches of bananas in thickness, face broad as the moon, the chair almost cringing under him. He was the epitome of heartiness, of energy. “And honestly, every National Legislator is appeased.”
“We have a long way to go. A major international effort will be a good distraction as well as establishing some prestige for this government.” This from Royal Trade Advisor Benjamin Kent. “The question is, sir, who is going to go?”

“Tentatively you, myself, Abiathar, and Sif here as the main players. Prestige but not a huge delegation. And I don’t want the Crown underrepresented, hence you.” Touchstone smiled at the dark skinned man, who flashed a grin back.

“Okay,” said Kent thoughtfully, “And meanwhile the other ‘heads’ keep at their work.”

“Precisely. Thank you, Sif, we’ll get that message out ASAP.” Touchstone nodded. He felt a faint shiver as they rose with a murmured, “Thank you, Mr. President.” He now and then still felt amazed to be in the position, and at times wondered if he really wanted it. The responsibility was beginning to grow oppressively around him. Everyone seemed eager to give it to him, except for a few. He would have to keep a close eye on people like Kohath, Gebrovic, Cruonis, Tubal-Cain, Bohun…well lots of people. For a moment awareness of all that he had to do had him feeling deeply weary and he stared out his window at the spread of the city, antique buildings mingled with construction and newer glittering tall buildings, though not the vast skyscrapers of some other places. There had been a time when he could just casually go out for an ice cream cone or a walk in the park. He did decide however that he needed a good swim, and pushed his buzzer to make the appointment.

A month ago...

The four women sat in the basement of a crumbling office building of Portias Espesaia. Sadness hung from their brows as they quietly eyed a small device on the floor. A small red light on the device flashed and one of the women picked it up. She read a display giving a set of coordinates and motioned the other women. They all adjusted their gas masks, picked up their gear, and stood.

---

Two days earlier, there had been a fifth woman. Her name was Hahzra Payadieh, a young woman from the city of Miraz. She had attended a local university and upon graduation had signed up with the Foreign Intelligence Service. She had been an outgoing and cheerful individual who had never lacked a friend.

Now she sat bruised and bloody in the back of a large truck. Her hands and feet were bound and her once long and silky hair had been crudely cut. Half a dozen men sat near her dressed in urban camouflage guffawing at some sort of dirty joke. Every bump the truck hit sent pain screaming through Hahzra’s body and elicited memories equally as painful. These bastards had beaten and tortured her. They had grinned wickedly as they each taken a turn with her. Through all this she had somehow managed to keep silent, robbing these men of least some pleasure.

The truck stopped and one of the men pulled out a pistol and unloaded a clip into Hazrah’s already battered body. She was then unceremoniously thrown from the back of the truck by another two of the men. The truck drove off leaving Hazrah naked and dying. As the life ebbed from her body, Hezrah thought of her mother, father, and siblings. Of her home and friends.
Just before the last ounce of life escaped her body, she had one final thought. She saw a pair of warm brown eyes and a slim, delicate hand running its fingers through her hair. She reached out her hand in an attempt to grasp that gentle hand but to no avail.

As the last breath escaped her body, her lips formed one final word, “Rozala.”

---

The four women carefully made their way through the city, avoiding the myriad of dangers that stalked it. They arrived at their destination and hopped into the back of an idling cargo truck. They sat quietly for some time before they were signaled by the driver that they could disembark. The women deftly jumped from the truck and proceeded to quickly and quietly make their way to an abandoned marina. They removed an old and worn tarp from across a hidden boat and pushed it into the water. They traveled several kilometers before one of the women checked a device in her hands and tapped out a short message on it. Half an hour later, the fin of the AZUS Kolski breached the surface of the water. A hatch opened and a group of sailors climbed onto the submarine’s surface. The women moved the boat alongside the submarine and three of them were helped aboard while the fourth leaned over a large duffle bag and unzipped it. What remained of Hahzra could clearly be seen by the blonde haired and brown eyed woman who had opened the bag. She knelt down on the boat and placed her hand on Hahzra’s cold forehead.

“May the defva’s bring your pure soul to sit at the feet of Azmara and may this wind and flame carry your body back to creation,” quietly recited the woman as she fought desperately to keep her composure. Her words given to the motionless woman beneath her, she took one last look at Hahzra before grabbing a can of petrol and dousing the boat. She was then helped onto the Kolski. Before descending the ladder into the hull of the vessel, the woman opened a lighter and tossed it into the boat. Rozala Andycz wept the whole of that night.

OOC:

I’m terribly sorry for not responding to the note that was posted, somehow I forgot, please forgive!

IC:

To Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

Thank you very much for your offer of help with intelligence and advice regarding Mallarctaia. We have proposed to the Chimaean Governor a joint delegation and possible peacekeeping mission and included your nation in our proposal. I hope that this will be fruitful. And we do hope you can forward available intelligence on Mallarctaia when possible.

Thank you very much for your offer to visit Ali-Zebu, it is one of the countries that I am most interested in visiting. Perhaps sometime in the near future that could be arranged. As for Princess Yesmin, she is a joy to have around, an extraordinary person.

Please also feel free yourself or by ambassador to advise me of any concerns or needs your country has.

Sincerely,
Sif Finnhald,
Foreign Minister

New Sydney, Chimaea

Lady Bryce drummed a staccato rhythm on the surface of her enormous wooden desk as she finished reading the letter from the President of the Allied States of New Edom. Her eyebrow arched a little and she stared at it for a few moments more before looking up at the expectant faces of the officials seated on the other side of the desk.

“It’s very polite. Am I an ‘Excellency’?”

“I thought you were more of a ‘Damn good’, myself.” Mused Marcus Kennald, a twinkle in his eye.

“Hah. Good. So what do we think about this?”

Maria Fazzolari shrugged. “Not entirely unexpected, although I’m surprised that the issue got pushed through their new Parliament. My people tell me that there’s a fairly robust back and forth there, even in Cabinet, although I can’t confirm that either way. Rumours and conjecture—”

“Are your stock in trade,” General de Santuro rudely interjected. “Governor, have you heard from Ambassador Thomsen?”

Maria’s look could have burned holes through steel. Lady Bryce said quickly, “The Ambassador has voted on an Assembly of Sovereign Nations Defence Council Resolution to send a stabilisation force into Mallarctaia. They’ll be ‘observers’, and there will be a specific military and civilian team which will investigate the New Sydney Times allegations alongside. The stabilisation force will officially be there to aid and advice the Mallarctaian military and police to maintain law and order, to ensure the flow of aid and maintain security to the investigation.”

Kennald nodded. “There was a majority approval of the Resolution. I believe Helladria will publicise it, but Chimaea will start official diplomacy with Mallarctaia to pave the way. We need New Edom on board with this—the more nations are involved, the lesser individual commitments will be. That will result in a significantly smaller national footprint in this whole business and we won’t look like Regional bullies. Too many nations out there ready to stand up to any perceived slight on small nations like Mallarctaia, no matter how corrupt.”

General de Santuro shrugged. “Governor, my advice is still on the table. Go in hard and go in force. We can stabilise Mallarctaia in a week or two at the most.”

Lady Bryce shook her head. “It’s frankly too risky, the collateral in terms of economy and trade would be disastrous.”

“As you wish, Governor. On the CAF side, Brigadier Asfaha is overseeing the preparations for deployment. From Ambassador Thomsen’s brief, these are the overall commitments so far...” he passed copies of a one-page report to the others, which read:

::HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL:: TO BE KEPT SECURE WHEN NOT IN USE::

Combat Component
Overall: 1, 700
Chimaean: 600 [1 Mechanised Battalion: 180; 2 Artillery Units: 30, Special Forces: 75; Tactical Urban Operations Corp: 515]
Helladria: 200 [Peace Corp, unknown Commando units; Note—prepared to increase to 1000 Peace Corp and 50 Commando]
Ali-Zebu Union: 900 [Third Foreign Infantry Battalion]


Support Component
Overall: 1000
Chimaean: 500 [Tactical Urban Operations Corp Support and Logistics Regiment]
Helladria: Unknown
Ali-Zebu Union: 500 [First Foreign Engineer Battalion; not including 100 Military Police]

Note: It is expected that Support elements of all forces will be integrated into an ASNDC-wide role.


Naval Component
Chimaea: 1 Carrier Group [1 Carrier (2/3 Helicopter, 1/3 Fighter-bomber), 3 Troop Transport Amphibious Landing, 2 Frigates, 3 Submarines, 4 Patrol Boats]
Helladria: Unknown, offer of Chimaean Navy Assets for transportation/air support?
Ali-Zebu Union: Escort and Air Support offered.

Chimaean Federal Police
25 FP Agents

Lady Bryce finished reading the report and nodded. “This isn’t bad. Enough to secure a city the size of Portias Aspesaia?”

“Yes... Well. It’s under-strength, if you want my blunt assessment, but our limit of 5-6, 000 troops is under-strength as well. I have reservations about this mission, Governor.”

Lady Bryce shook her head. “It is what it is, General. We don’t need to secure the city forever.”

General de Santuro looked as if he were about to say something, but cut himself off and just nodded.

“Marc, will you send an official message to Mallarctaia, directly to the President. Don’t be overwhelming, but tell him firmly we’re sending in a military force. You know the drill.”

Kennald nodded. “Of course, my Lady.”

Lady Bryce leaned back in her chair. “I’ll have my Office draft the reply to New Edom. General, advice my staffers and the Foreign Ministry of the best security action needed. Maria, we all need your input on how to approach this.”

Fazzorali smiled. “Count on me.”

“I always do. That’s it, lady and gentlemen. On yer bikes.”

* * *

Dear President Touchstone,

I write to you in reply to your recent letter concerning the developments in the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia.

It was with considerable honour I received your letter; while our nations have not had much prior involvement, we have been observing the events in the Allied States of New Edom with considerable interest and attention. I am happy to note that your recent troubles are over and your people are now united.

I am gratified that you express an interest in stabilising the situation in Mallarctaia. As part of our Regional responsibility, the Assembly of Sovereign Nations (ASN) has approved a resolution authorising the Defence Council (ASNDC) to intervene in Mallarctaia by sending a stabilisation force to accompany a team of observers. The observers will investigate the claims made in the recent New Sydney Times report.

The stabilisation force will be called ‘Assembly of Nations Operation in Mallarctaia [ASNOM]’ and the observation team will be called ‘Assembly of Nations Observation Committee (Mallarctaia) [ASNOC]’.*

New Edom is formally invited to operate within the terms of the Resolution, as an Associate nation or Friendly nation. The terms are as attached** and I think you will find them broad and acceptable. I sincerely recommend your operation under this Resolution to avoid duplication and achieve best possible operational service delivery.

I await your thoughts on this matter.

Warm Regards,
Lady Tanya Bryce,
Governor, Commonwealth of Chimaea

* * *

Dear President Calabresi,

I am writing to you regarding your open invitation for the international community to send observers to the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia, following the recent New Sydney Times report.

While I am gladdened by your assurances, the Assembly of Sovereign Nations is still concerned about the allegations of undue Corporate influence and misconduct within the affairs of your state. As these allegations are serious and contrary to the principles of our Region and the ASN, the Commonwealth is also concerned by the involvement of Chimaean Corporations such as Alpha Chem Pharmaceuticals in this alleged misconduct.

It is therefore that the ASN wishes to formally conduct an investigation of these allegations under the auspices of the Resolution to Investigate Mallarctaia (Resolution 1). This investigation will be conducted by the ASN Observation Committee (Mallarctaia) or ASNOC*.

To facilitate the work of this Committee, the ASN must further request your cooperation to allow a multinational ASN Defence Council operation (ASN Operation in Mallarctaia or ASNOM*) to provide security within Portias Espesaia.

ASNOM will also work with your military and police to increase the stability of the security situation in Portias Espesaia and provide advice on crime control, law and order and justice. It is hoped that all involved nations may learn from each other in these areas.

I look forward to your reply.

Regards,
Marcus Kennald,
Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade
Commonwealth of Chimaea

----------------

OOC:
* Names have not been agreed on yet and may be edited
** Helladria will post the Resolution

Portias Espesaia, Presidential Palace

“Sodomy! Sodomy and fucking hellspawn!”

General Paul Bahar stood to attention and stared straight ahead, feeling the usual mix of awe and gut-wrenching fear in the pit of his stomach. He always felt this way around President Calabresi; the man was a living spirit, a trickster spirit embodied. He had seen what magiks and miracles the President had performed, he had witnessed the killing of his enemies with voodoo and a single gesture.

And he had devoted his life to the President.

As commanding officer of the Mallarctaian Army, he was in effect the highest ranking officer in the entire military. Mallarctaia had a small Air Force and a Navy, but they performed mostly support roles for the Army—even the Mallarctaia Guardia, the Police Force, was under the control of the military. And while General Paul commanded the military, he was commanded by President Calabresi.

Right now, though, he wished he was anywhere but near President Calabresi. They were in one of the President’s many offices in the Presidential Palace (he changed from office to office to avoid assassins), along with Levi Coates, the Director of one of the many foreign companies which Mallarctaia hosted. General Paul didn’t know what to make of Coates—as his grandmother would have put it, Coates had no spirit. He had no essence, no... soul. President Calabresi was all spirit, Coates was... a horrible blankness, as if the man was made from plastic. Although General Paul was aware Coates and his consortium partly funded the Army, the man unnerved him.

Although right now he was grateful for Coates’ presence. He was a calming influence on the President.

“It’s all right, Mr. President, this is all to be expected,” Coates was saying gently, “I told you that at our last meeting, remember? The ASN was always going to get involved, there was always going to be foreign troops on Mallarctaian soil. Not forever, though. Not forever.”

The President waved the letter angrily at Coates. “How dare they? This is sovereign territory, Director! This is my land, these are my people! How dare they question me and abuse my invitation?”

Coates looked down at his copy of the letter and shrugged. “This is the way business is done in the international community, Mr. President. It doesn’t mean anything. They will send investigators, they will send their troops. But in a few months? A year? Two years? We will still be here and they will be gone. You will always be the President of Mallarctaia. This is a flash in the pan, nothing more.”

Partly mollified, much to General Paul’s relief, the President relaxed and sat heavily on his desk. “So I should think, Director, so I should think. But mark my words—as General Paul is my witness, they will rue the day they dared cross me! Tell me, is it true that some of these foreign armies have women soldiers?”

Coates smiled that dreadful, empty smile. “Yes, Mr. President, it is true. Chimaea has had female soldiers for a long time, I know that.”

The President smiled and licked his lips. “My goodness... imagine that. Young, strong... in mind and body... Spirited... Educated.” He practically spat the last word out. “Yes... Bring me one of these women warriors, General Paul. She will be one of my brides.”

“Yes, sir!” General Paul barked automatically. Coates looked at him, still smiling.

“I will teach these foreigners that I am the lord and master here... not those creatures in Helladria or Ali-Zebu. And certainly not that fucking bitch Bryce, or her fucking media!”

“Indeed, Mr. President,” Coates said smoothly, “But may I recommend that you put your best foot forward and invite them to Mallarctaia? Tell them you have nothing to hide.”

The President bristled, but subsided. “Yes, yes of course. Your words are always wise, Director.”

Coates turned to look at General Paul again. “And if the General wouldn’t mind... I would like his men to put on a show of force in Portias Espesaia. Clear out some of the worse areas, make sure that their staging areas are... peaceful.”

The President waved a hand. “Do it, General Paul.”

“Yes, sir!” he barked again. He hesitated, then said, “Permission to leave and start operations, sir?”

The President nodded and General Paul executed an about turn, marching out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, the last thing he saw were Coates eyes, watching him leave.

* * *

Dear Minister Kennald and nations of the ASN,

It is with deepest honour that I received your communication.

As I have stated before, let me assure you that my Government has nothing to hide. You are most welcome to send your observation committee and your security force, and my military and Guardia will benefit from their august experience and prowess.

Please liaise with my office to sort out logistical and administrative matters. We await eagerly your presence.

With warmest regards,
Cino Garcia Calabresi
President of the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia

When some of them were kids, they had played the kind of cryptic horrible games that involved things like passing a huge earthworm around that they each had to take bites from, or solemnly (or with hilarity) viewing the genitalia of a member of the opposite sex, or viewing some roadkill or a huge beached fish depending on where they lived. The mysteriousness of life viewed as a tribe.

In this case they were looking at the ASN resolution for Mallarctaia. King Mark, President Touchstone, Foreign Minister Finnhald, Principal Advisor Tubal-Cain, Police Minister Kohath, Trade Advisor Kent, Defense Minister Black, General Abiathar, General Augrim, Trade Minister Gebrovic, Attorney-General Carmel, Admiral Rand, General Achan. The huge polished oak table in the Command and Control Center below the Palace (which was electronically and physically secured, and was in fact part of a bunker system) was surrounded by these men and women.

Touchstone had an odd thought as he glanced around: it was the realization of how few of these people were women. A lot of foreigners had more. Was that significant? In her last email to him Andrea Benjamin seemed to think so. Worth pondering. Another time.

“Is there anything we disagree with here?” Touchstone asked.

“First of all, what is the happiness and liberty thing about, exactly?” asked Tubal-Cain. “Just so that we understand the ASN view of it.”

“We can take this from the Constitution of the Assembly.” Sif replied, as the Tyrrhenian Ambassador to the ASN pushed a paper towards her. “These are their disqualifications: enslavement, genocide, deprivation of due process of law, loss of freedom to pursue careers, failure to seek redress of grievances, engaging in cruel or unusual acts for punishment or any other reason.”

Prince Philip Tubal-Cain nodded. “Yes, that all follows. Thank you.”

“It is very open to interpretation,” said Benjamin Kent. “Which is good, right?”

“O wise folk of the land,” said Augrim, “I see that this resolution is a tree of great shade, which may shelter our first mission to Mallarctaia. Let us send such cunning and observant souls as may determine the lay of the land, is that not what we have already decided? For it is as I see it good to know whether there are enemies and needs before we unsheathe our sleeping sword of war.”

“But you know, Governor, that we’re not going to war, right? It’s a peacekeeping mission?” General Achan pointed out, managing to hide his distaste for the Haranese.

Augrim gave him a level reptilian glance. “Aye. This I know. Thou art unwise, O General, to treat me like a child. Yes, I know well that our purpose is not war but succor.”

Admiral Rand spoke somewhat stiffly. He had raged, been furious at discovering that not only would he not be the senior commander, but that he would have to take orders from Augrim of all people. He had been a member of the original Junta that put King Mark into power, and now was reduced to this. “I should like to point out that we hardly need a division strength unit for this. We would be better off sending in a naval expedition entirely with Royal Marines and perhaps engineering and logistics units backing them up. General…Augrim’s plan calls for in part sending in an armored brigade. Why would we need an armored brigade for a humanitarian relief mission?”

“Can we stick to discussing the ASNDC Resolution please?” demanded Touchstone. Admiral Rand tightened his lips and glared. Touchstone grinned inside. “Alright, so we understand the liberty and happiness stuff, great. Moving on, does anyone have any issue with ‘send observers’?”

“Yes. I’m not really sure what that means,” pointed out Kent. “Does that mean military observers, diplomatic, medical, scientific?”

“Because it is an open invitation I’m taking it to mean the diplomatic mission we originally planned.” Touchstone replied. “And I’m thinking we should under this umbrella send in our mission first. And unless anyone disagrees, I’m taking ‘force of arms for self preservation if necessary’ as being fairly broadly interpreted.”

King Mark spoke up. “Now here, I’m seeing an area of potential concern. First of all, Lady Bryce has offered to include New Edom in the stabilization force—ASNOM. And we thank the Tyrrhenian Ambassador to the ASN for giving us the information a bit ahead of schedule by the way. On the one hand this is good—we won’t be spending a month working out how it will work. On the other hand…” he glanced around the room. “We all have concerns about this. Mr. Touchstone, for now I ask that your Government work with the ASNOC and ASNOM,” the people sitting around the table smiled at the names, “And Governor, I direct you and Admiral Rand to work together to prepare the ASNOM elements we will be sending. Prepare an ORBAT and TO&E for the Chimaeans.”

Kohath spoke up, “And the intelligence reports we are getting in, there will be a full briefing within a couple of days.”

“Thank you Minister Kohath, Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen.” The King rose from the table as the others did.

Dear Lady Tanya Bryce,
Governor of the Commonwealth of Chimaea

I thank your Excellency for your inclusion of New Edom in the ASNOM and ASNOC organizations, and we will gladly work under the auspices of the Resolution. This will probably be the first demonstration of the friendship between Tyrrhenia and the Assembly of Sovereign Nations.

As a general proposal, New Edom intends to send the following persons as observers initially at least: myself, Foreign Minister Sif Finnhald, General Jonathan Abiathar, and Trade Advisor Benjamin Kent. They will be accompanied by military, civil service and intelligence & security personnel.

Our general idea for military security would be as follows:

1 carrier group (1 carrier, 2 cruisers, 2 destroyers, 2 frigates, 5 amphibious craft, 1 submarine. We see the role of the navy in this as primarily for the purposes of logistics, reconnaissance and intelligence support, and escorting flow of supplies to refugees and other persons in need. This force will include 500 Royal Marines who will act as infantry security teams)

1 Mechanized Division (under strength as this is not a combat mission per se)
- 3 mechanized battalions (Ironheart APC/IFV)
- 1 armored battalion ( Tiger MBT)
- 1 combat engineer regiment
- 1 construction engineer regiment
- 1 logistics regiment
- 1 aviation regiment
- 1 transport regiment
- 1 special forces company

Also present would be a battalion strength unit of Council Police who would act as intelligence and support.

For civilian assets we would like to ultimately include the following:
1. New Edomite Council for Refugees assessment team.
2. Christian Fellowship of New Edom Shelter and Food Society. (which will be bringing immediate refugee supplies such as: batteries, fresh water, tents, clothing, basic medicine, and ration packs)
3. New Edomite Red Cross (for the purpose of liason with other Red Cross organizations)

Thank you for your consideration in including our country in this opportunity to help a troubled nation. And also many thanks for your kind words about our own situation, which continues to improve.

Sincerely,
William Touchstone,
President of the Allied States of New Edom

Prime Minister Philenn Birden, leader of the Liberal Party in Parliament, sat in his office shuffling through papers when his secretary knocked. “Monomme Prime Minister, Minister Adrean is on line 2 with urgent business regarding the ASN intervention in Mallarctaia. It seems that Monomme Medham was able to reach an agreement with the Chimaean and the Ali-Zebu delegates.”

“Thank you. I’ll take it from here,” he replied. Picking up his phone, he spoke hastily, “Kees. What news do you have?”

“Olga Medham’s meeting with the other members of the ASN just concluded. They passed a resolution to investigate the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia. After some discussion, Helladaria has also been given the first term of Chairmanship of the ASNDC,” she summarized.

“So this is all going fine for Monomme Soldeo, I take it? What did they decide?”

“Check your email. I sent a draft to you. They want to send in a hybrid observation group under the ASNDC to verify the New Sydney Times report.”

Philenn checked his inbox and found the email, and read over quickly.

Monomme Birden,
The Assembly of Sovereign Nations Defense Council has decided upon a resolution for how to deal with Mallarctaia. It reads as follows:

ASN Defense Council Resolution #1; Resolution to Investigate Mallarctaia
The Assembly of Sovereign Nations Defense Council,

Concerning the exposé of the internal affairs of the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia by the New Sydney Times, and expressing grave concern over the contents contained therein,

Reiterating the Assembly of Sovereign Nations belief in the right of all persons to pursue happiness through liberty,

Expressing its determination to support liberty for all persons,

Citing the open invitation from the government of Mallarctaia for the international community to send observers;

Resolves that under the Mandate of the Assembly of Sovereign Nations Defense Council tentative charter, the ASNDC fostering a global environment conducive to the spread of our mutual ideal of Liberty,

Authorizes Member nations and Associate Member nations to send a force of observers in the name of the ASNDC to determine the veracity of the New Sydney Times exposé,

Further authorizes ASNDC nations to use force of arms for self preservation if necessary,

Calls upon ASNDC nations to provide relief, aid, and protection to civilians where necessary,

And Demands that the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia not interfere in the legitimate investigation by the ASNDC nations.

“What? This is it?” he asked. “They had to have a conference over this? It’s just an agreement to have everyone do the same thing they were already going to do beforehand.”

“The resolution was just a formality, and it wasn’t the only matter discussed. They agreed upon the roles each of our countries would take in the operations,” Kees explained.

“So what was the outcome?”

“Ours is the same role we’ve lobbied for since this matter blew up. We’re sending in a small team of observers from the Peace Corps, with the possibility of increasing our presence to a battalion.”

“Why are we even thinking about sending a battalion?” the Prime Minister asked. “We shouldn’t be sending so many damn troops to a sovereign nation just for a simple investigation.”

“Our commitment right now is just a company of Peace Corps soldiers. The battalion is only on the table in case we need to expand our operations."

“Expanding our operations is precisely what I’m afraid of, Kees. Where is the proposal that ohs is sending to Parliament? If we’re agreeing to expand our operations in Mallarctaia it would be because of a military engagement. President Soldeo needs to send us a bill to be approved.”

“It’s still being written up, but from what I’ve heard, it looks like Chrysanthe is going to withhold that part of the bill. Ohs wants it approved for observation roles only.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Philenn yelled. “Ohr proposal is going to be just enough to get us in and then leverage us in the advent of conflict. With our soldiers being shot at, we couldn’t say no. This is just an irresponsible attempt by Soldeo at circumventing Parliament’s authority.”

“I know, Philenn,” she responded.

“Maybe we ought to simply block it from a vote based upon illegality. Since we’re in control of the House of Representatives, we could simply prohibit it from reaching the floor on the basis that the bill requires a vote on military intervention, but makes no call for the decision by Parliament.”

“I think we could but I don’t recommend it,” Kees Adrean cautioned. “This matter is important to the people and to completely block an investigation on our part will be highly unpopular.”

“This matter is important to the populists and the protectionists,” Philenn corrected. “The reason we’re even interested in what’s going on in Mallarctaia is because they are able to make these industrial products at what would be below cost for us. The Soldeo administration would love to cut off our involvement with a country that the Conservatives say is stealing our jobs.”

“That might be what brought the attention in the first place, but it’s not the case anymore, Philenn.”

“So I take it you support our intervention in Mallarctaia, Kees?”

“I do. There isn’t a good reason to think this report was fabricated, but even if it was, an investigation is still warranted. If it doesn’t turn up anything, we can even allow Helladric businesses to begin operating there. I’m concerned though. Based upon what I’ve heard from people in the DFI, it’s not just a poor country with lax control by the government. The New Sydney Times might have been spot on.”

“You think it’s a failed state hosting a government within a government then?”

“It is beginning to look that way.”

“What do you think is our best course of action then?” Philenn inquired.

“I think we should keep silent toward the Soldeo administration until they have drafted their bill. If they submit a version that omits authorization for military action against a host faction, which I think they will, it will be our opportunity to add a clause in committee granting a broad range of military authority falling under the ASNDC resolution. This way, we can prevent the Conservatives from gaining all of the credit, and hopefully the Populist Party, who are well known for isolationism, will defect from the Conservatives and represent opposition to the bill.”

“We’ll lose the APP though,” the Prime Minister pointed out.

“They’ll come back. They’ll be against our interests on this anyway. Between the Conservatives and ourselves we might have up to fifty percent of the vote. I’m sure we will also be able to get some of the Social Democrats and the Nationalists on board. With those two and a good chunk of the Independents we will be able to easily pass the bill.”

“Are you sure that we’re not just giving the Conservatives a boost in popularity?”

“There is the risk, but because Natazs Photi has been busy with New Edom, ohs has neglected the affairs of the Assembly of Sovereign Nations. We don’t even have any facilities for meetings with the ASN. If we fund it and support it, we might be able to snatch credit for the organization right from under Chrysanthe’s nose. It’ll be a good start if we can beat the Conservatives to the punch over authorizing stabilization efforts.”

“Kees, I like it. We’ll play it the way you suggest. Maybe while ohr attention is focused on the investigation, we can also begin debating a proposal on finding an appropriate home for the ASN.”

Portias Espesaia

The five-storey tenements were the epitome of a cycle of poverty and desperation. Concrete monstrosities covered in grime and graffiti, in a sunnier time they were Mallarctaia’s answer to low-cost or council housing. Now there were no more councils and there was no more cost—the tenements were run by the criminal gangs, used to peddle drugs openly. The people living in the tenements were constantly at death’s door, eking out an existence working for the Government or the gangs. In their despair they turned to the one constant in their lives—the illicit drugs, rumoured to be produced by Alpha Chem Pharmaceuticals as a means of waste disposal of surplus and bad stock, which the gangs sometimes demanded the highest price.

Occasionally the Government or the security firms cleared out certain gangs from certain areas and the tenements were no exception. There was no point clearing out the desperate who lived there—for every one that died there were two more seeking shelter from the poisoned air and the acid rains.

So when the children who acted as runners – and sometimes as prostitutes for their parents or themselves to score – came running shouting “security!”, the gangs were practiced at clearing out. A confrontation with the military or the security firms tended to result in pitched gun battles which were not only bad for business but always resulted in the gangs losing territory. It was simply easier to leave and come back when the invaders were gone.

The children came running on that day. They shouted as usual. The gangs took off, some on foot, some in patchy armoured cars and trucks billowing out oily smoke. Then the military arrived.

There was one armoured personnel carrier and two flatbed trucks full of troops. They drove right into the centre of the tenements and began to disgorge troops, dressed in black protective clothing and gas masks, armed with a myriad of weapons from AK47s to Chimaean CR60s and M16s. The machine gun pod of the APC was manned and the gunner swung the machine gun in a circle, aiming up at the higher floors.

The lower floors were cleared out first. Systematically, teams of soldiers entered the squalid apartments on the ground floor, battering down doors and breaking makeshift, boarded up windows. Men, women and children were rounded up and driven outside into the central space where other soldiers guarded them. Anyone too slow was beaten and dragged out, bleeding and unconscious, or possibly dead.

The residents were quick to respond. Some had access to weapons and shot down from the higher floors, met with bursts from the machine gun and a hail of small arms fire. Some through objects—rocks, molotov cocktails, even acid rained down on those on the central space.

He was thirteen, angry and delusional after a lifetime of hiding and surviving. He had seen his parents die, his mother torn to pieces by cannibals before she could be buried. His father had committed suicide when he was six—hollow eyed, addicted to numbing drugs and living in poverty.

When the soldiers came his anger found a focal point. Boiling over in rage, he picked up a brick and threw it down onto the soldiers below as around him, people screamed, died and tried to fight back with drug-addled brains and weak bodies. He didn’t even realise as the bullet tore through the side of his stomach, just felt a solid impact which felled him onto the rough concrete floor. He got up again but it was difficult to concentrate.

The world went dark. He could still hear the cacophony of death and destruction around him but it was muted now. A lot of pain...

Blood in this mouth.

Confusion.

There was ice in his veins and blood in his mouth and now even the poisoned air had failed him.

The teams continued up the stairwells, blowing through makeshift barricades and slipping on faeces and filth. The soldiers were high on stimulants, laughing as they emptied each crowded apartment and brutalised those within. A trend started on level three—the younger children and infants were thrown over the side of the concrete parapet to make them scream and plummet—those who died on impact were considered successes, those who lay broken and crying on the ground below, trying to crawl to salvation, were considered losses.

There weren’t many losses when they ascended to the fourth and fifth floors.

When they kicked in her door she was still slumped on the broken plastic chair, completely numbed from a synthetic opioid she had injected into her veins with a shared needle. Her three children screamed for their mother as they were rounded up amongst the four other adults in the apartment, the two younger children carried to the walkway by laughing soldiers. Her eldest, a young teenage boy, was raped against a wall by three soldiers who took turns.

She didn’t hear them. Her thoughts were slow and when she opened her eyes to look slowly at soldiers, her vision was strangely coloured, blurred and outlined in strange glows as her optic nerves delivered messages to a brain which could no longer process them. She couldn’t even smile and didn’t feel anything when she was sprayed with blood, brain and skull as one of the soldiers discharged a shotgun into the back of her son’s head as he climaxed.

Her lack of reaction enraged them. They beat her into unconsciousness with the butts of their rifles; somewhere in her brain she felt the vicious beating but her synapses were barely functioning.

As she died, she hardly noticed.

The healthiest girls and women were rounded up, tied and placed into the backs of the flatbed trucks. The killing began in earnest as the teams reported each floor cleared; they lined the remaining residents against several concrete walls and began shooting, beating and stabbing indiscriminately. Soon the situation descended into an orgy of deadly, sadistic violence. Blood formed lakes and rivers on the ground, flesh was torn apart and life was destroyed. Booted feet stomped on heads, hands, fingers; limbs snapped like dry sticks; metal met flesh in a rising crescendo of terror and uncontrolled destruction.

More trucks arrived to collect as many of the corpses as possible, even while the killing continued. Grenades were shot onto the upper floors of the tenements, destroying much of the concrete buildings. Fire which had already started turned into an inferno as the soldiers piled onto the trucks and moved out.

Across Portias Espesaia, the undesirable populations were moved or murdered. By nightfall, tens of thousands were dead—a prick in the ocean of millions which inhabited the megacity.

On an outside wall of the tenements, a soldier had found a can of spray paint and, amused, had painted the words ‘WELCOME ASN’ in red. Inside, as the fire died down, there was a blissful silence.

(OOC: A return to Ali-Zebu next post.)

A man sat in a well cushioned chair of finely carved maple. If he had been standing, he would have topped 183cm. His shoulders were as broad as a bulls and his round face was of similar construction. At one time he was likely well muscled, but now fat had crept onto his frame giving him a more rotund appearance.

“Mister Ó Cuilinn, may I please have your attention,” spoke a toothpick of a man wearing a pressed tweed suit and red tie.

Bran Ó Cuilinn turned his face toward the man who had spoken. The other man could now see the face of the man in the chair. A pair of thick, raven mutton chops adorned either side of his face and a pair predatory brown eyes stared at the thin man.

“What the hell do you want lad,” spoke Bran in the dialect of Kerry in good ol’ Éire.

“It seems the queen bees abroad have started buzzing,sir.”

“Oh, what about,” asked Ó Cuilinn, blowing a cloud of smoke after taking a puff of the exceptionally large and pungent cigar in his left hand.

“It seems a certain foreign news agency ran a program that was less than flattering in regard to conditions here in Mallarctaia.”

Interrupting, “So what does this have to do with our queen bees?” A mixture of curiosity and anxiousness entering Bran’s eyes.

“It seems they are looking to reduce the scale of their operations here and cut back on investments. Here is a full report Mister Ó Cuilinn.”

“ I see. Now leave me.”

The man in tweed gave a quick “Yes sir.” and beat a hasty retreat.

Bran Ó Cuilinn sat and finished his cigar. He then walked to the bar and poured a pint of fine red ale from the tap. He drank it down and opened an adjacent door. He stepped over the threshold and came into a large, glass roofed room.

The ground spread out into a green and well planted landscape, complete with a meandering stream. A stone path led from the door and across a small white bridge constructed in a Japanese style. Bran walked across the bridge and toward a large wooden gazebo with a pagoda roof.

The gazebo stood on a small island in the center of large pond that was well stocked with many large koi. Within the gazebo stood a large four post with a small bell resting on one of the many plush pillows adorning the previously mentioned bed.

As Bran Ó Cuilinn approached the gazebo he thought to himself, “Those bloody striapachs think they can bring me down, do they?” He soon reached the gazebo and grabbed the bell. He rang it and said to himself, “I wonder what the boys have brought me today,” as he removed his white button up shirt and took off his belt. He then sat on the bed, pulled a stainless steel lighter in the form of a flask out of his pocket and began to flip it on and off. Stamped into the bottom of the lighter were the words “Ragochev Industries”.

New Sydney, Chimaea

“The President? They’re sending the President of New Edom to Mallarctaia?” asked Lady Bryce, reading over the message on her desktop computer.

Marcus Kennald shrugged. “Well the King is the power there, but that’s a high-level nomination nonetheless. I think they’re sending a message to President Callabresi and to us as well.”

“The President, the Foreign Minister, a General and a trade advisor... and staff. Marc, this is a security nightmare.”

Kennald smiled. “Well... Mallarctaia is supposed to be a friendly nation, let’s not forget that.”

Lady Bryce closed her eyes. “All right. What do you suggest? Shall I join the party?”

Kennald considered this and nodded. “Make a state visit,” he suggested, “and leave someone high-ranking to lead the Chimaean delegation.”

“Good idea. Ever been to Mallarctaia, Marc?”

Kennald winced. “Yes, all right. I’ll go. Shall we invite General de Santuro to represent the military?”

Lady Bryce considered for a moment. “No... no. Actually, I think Brigadier Asfaha can be the CAF attaché to ASNOC.”

“Asfaha? But... I mean, does she have the experience—”

“As Chimaean force commander in Mallarctaia, Marc, she’ll have the best possible perspective to act in that position.” Lady Bryce said, a little coldly.

Kennald looked at her for a moment. “General de Santuro won’t like this, my Lady. It’s a calculated snub not to let him choose, at the very least.”

“I am the Governor, last time I checked, and he takes his orders from me. I also recommend Maria Fazzolari to represent the Federal Police. She will be civilian command of the CFP deployment.”

Kennald looked astonished. “Maria is an excellent intel—”

“The command of the CFP deployment.”

“What are you playing at, my Lady?” Kennald asked bluntly.

Lady Bryce smiled. “Long-range chess. It’s handy to have complete control of the board.”

* * *

Dear President Touchstone,

I write to you regarding your recent message in commitment to ASNOM and ASNOC.

I am deeply gratified as to the level of your commitment and the Assembly of Sovereign Nations looks forward to the first joint mission between ourselves and Tyrrhenia. Your inclusion under Resolution 1 operations sends a clear message to Mallarctaia and the world of our resolve to investigate the allegations before us and bring stability to the Mallarctaian people.

Regarding ASNOC, Chimaea will be represented by Minister Marcus Kennald, Foreign Affairs and Trade; Brigadier Amina Asfaha, Chimaean Armed Forces and Commander Maria Fazzolari, Chimaean Federal Police.

I also intend to make a State visit to Mallarctaia at the same time as ASNOC operations begin, which will aid me to liaise at-level with yourself, other ASNOC members and President Callabresi. While my visit will be relatively short, I foresee that it will aid in opening necessary doors for our observers.

I look forward to meeting you and send you and your staff my sincere thanks.

Warm regards,
Lady Tanya Bryce,
Governor, Commonwealth of Chimaea

“So I take it you didn’t travel to New Edom Prime Minister,” remarked Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali’s driver.

“No Barta, things were already well under way by the time I was ready to depart. And beside, things are being well taken care of over there.”

Jezrahla’s vehicle parked in parliament’s secure lot and the prime minister stepped out of her vehicle.

---

Ali-Zebu Parliament

“They are making what kind of commitment?” shouted a blonde haired woman.

“We can’t allow these bedraggled monarchists to make us look weak,” chimed in a black haired woman.

“If you do not take your seats Hatiinen and Pata, I will have to ask you to leave the session,” said the moderator addressing both women. The two red faced women reluctantly took their seats. Defense Minister Editta Mavar glanced over at the two younger members of her party and gave them a look that said, “Keep your damn mouths shut.”

Editta was then signaled by the moderator. She stood and it could easily be seen why the Hayar people had the reputation for both being of great height and of fierce appearance. Her hair burned like a slab of red hot iron and hung down to the middle of her back. In her strong, well proportioned face sat a pair of pale green eyes glinting like a polished scimitar and just as eager to strike. Her lithe and powerful form was covered by a pair of obsidian pants that began to flare dramatically from the middle of the calf and hid a pair of matching lightweight boots. Her torso was encased in a sleeveless white shirt which in turn was covered by a sleeveless black vest with a deep v-neck. These of course, did little to disguise the ample bulge of her chest. Her bare arms displayed a medium-light skin tone and a faint scar that ran the length of her right arm.

Editta then took full advantage of her 193cm and looked around addressed the other members of parliament.

“I understand why some of you are upset that we are not increasing the size of our force. I also understand the need to keep our commitment as it is.”

She then let her eyes rest on the two who had spoken earlier.

“We have been working very hard to build a friendship with the people of New Edom. What kind of friend would we be if we were to wave our sword in there face and gloat at its larger size? Should we not give them our support as they boldly step out into the world once more? We should act like the adults we are and not play a game of whose sword is bigger but instead offer them our friendship and experience. I call you to remember the olds saying, ‘A single friend is worth more than nine acquaintances.’ ”

She paused to take a closer look at her two junior party members before continuing. Both of the them looked as if the wanted to crawl out of their skin and flee from the chamber. Satisfied that she had made her point, she continued while a slight murmur could be heard throughout the chamber.

“And beside, we all agreed to go along with the ASNDC resolution, so any argument now is pointless unless something new develops. On that note, I would like to discuss the matter of Hahzra Payadieh. What do we know of this brave young woman and what is her family doing with the knowledge we were morally obligated to give them?”

She sat down and the moderator nodded at Sazem Özma, the Minister of the Interior. Sazem was the youngest of the ministry heads at thirty. She was normally quiet and reserved. She was also the type to keep her cards very close to her chest. She also dressed in a matter that drew your attention from away from her. She was of moderate hight, a dark olive skin tone, owned braided and nearly black hair, and a pair of light brown eyes. She was a person you could easily forget and she was more than happy to let you. She then raised herself from her seat and spoke.

“Hazrha Payadieh’s mother and father live in Miraz with their other two children. Her mother is a professor of chemistry at the Miraz Scientific College and her father works part time as a secretary at the same college. Her two siblings are fraternal twins and eleven years old.”

Sazem cleared her throat and added a final bit of information, “ Although it has been several weeks since we informed Hazrah Payadieh’s family of hear death, her mother has not said a word to anyone else. If she had, I am sure we would all already know.”

She returned to her seat and Editta Mavar took the floor once again.

“Though it might sound distasteful to some of you,” she looked toward prime minister Shrazali, “We might have use this courageous woman’s death as means to garner further public support if the need arises and word has not already spread.” Editta then assumed a poetic guise and quoted the famous and controversial prime minister Rozolda Odolski “The blood of a sister can incite the passions of the people and grow their courage.”

Parliament then erupted in a heated back and forth debate. Prime minister Jezrahla Shrazali remained silent through most of the debate and only spoke when she was directly addressed. After and hour of this debate, the moderator decided to suspend the parliamentary session for a week.

Jezrahla weighed the day’s discussion in mind before finally speaking to her driver.

“Take me home Barta, I have a lot to do.”

“Of course prime minister.”

---

The Office of the Prime Minister

Jezrahla stamped the document with “Amaterasu”.

“Now to send word to the other ASN leaders and our associate,” thought Jezrahla.

To: President Soldeo of Helladria; Lady Tanya Bryce, Governor of Chimaea; President William Touchstone of New Edom
From: Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

The people of Ali-Zebu and myself are pleased and honored to work along side you in both ASNOM and ASNOC. I know that with all of us providing a united front we may bring to light the truth concerning Mallarctaia and provide respite and renewed hope to the people of that nation. As far as our delegation is concerned, we will be sending: Foreign Minister Pouvar Ostasi, Admiral Izmet Atum, President and CEO of Ragochev Industries, Nanya Menski, Anu Paitat, President of Kesree Technologies, and Herazad Vakrani, a civilian observer.
I have one last thing to mention before I close. All of you will soon be receiving an intelligence briefing from our Ministry of the Exterior shortly after you receive this message.

May wisdom guide your heart and mind.

Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

“And now for Mallarctaia”

To: Cino Garcia Calabresi, President of the Democratic Republic of Mallarctaia
From: Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

It is with great pleasure that we accept your invitation to visit your nation. We will visit along with the nations of Chimaea, Helladria, and New Edom. I hope that all of us may amicably resolve any issues there may be.

May wisdom guide your heart and mind.

Prime Minister Jezrahla Shrazali of the Ali-Zebu Union

---

Almetta's
“I was surprised by your speech Editta,” said Jezrahla as she sat in Almetta’s with Editta Mavar, waiting for their dessert.

“I only said what everyone needed to hear Jezrahla.”

“I appreciate it Editta. I am still uncomfortable using that poor girl's death as a means to incite the people’s opinions against Mallarctaia and think it should be the last thing we consider if we need support for a larger intervention.”

Editta looked over her friend and gave a smile.

“I am glad to see you have not lost that kind heart of yours Jezrahla. But as I know you realize, there are times in which one must make difficult decisions.”

Jezrahla nodded and smiled. The dessert arrived and the two friends ate and toasted.

Jezrahla decided to take a scenic route back to her residence as she sped along on her jet black Kanazaki Dragon, her black motorcycle outfit clearly displaying her fit, curvaceous body. The sound of the bike’s 1340cc, 16-valve engine was enough to set her mind at ease.