The Season Turns (Telegram for Entry please)

[Hittanryan]

Church of the Holy Cross
Fineberg, New Edom

'Only got violent when police attacked the crowd. Other protests are peaceful,' Wendy thought. 'That would be nice. Means it's not as bad as we thought.' The controversy over the Cabinet appointments was expected by nearly everyone in the Adiran government with an eye on New Edom, so what Tim said was unsurprising. The only unknown was exactly how angry and violent the response would be. By all accounts, not much.

The pastor's wife interrupted Tim's thoughts by bringing out sandwiches. "Oh, thank you. I really need to make sure they're all right though, now I'm even more worried..." Wendy said when the pastor offered to let her stay, fishing a smartphone out of her bag. She texted Redstone:

'Protests all peaceful except Betharan. Palace guard broke up protest, h2o cannon, horses, teargas. Protestors responded.'

Then the sky was alive with mechanical noise, helicopter rotors roaring overhead. Drawn to it like moths to a flame, Stanton put his sandwich down and departed. Squinting, Wendy could see Shalumite markings on them. Not long after, she got a response from the embassy.

'Press conference at justice dept. Corbulo, others there.'

Cursing her luck inwardly, she finished her sandwich and bowed to the pastor. "Thank you, Pastor, bless you. I just heard from one of my friends, but she lost someone. We have to go find him...good luck."

With that Wendy wound her way through the acrid-smelling streets, even making her way past Victory Square, confirming for herself that it was peaceful. Making her way to the Ministry of Justice, she still had her mission.

Press Conference
Ministry of Justice

When Wendy arrived, the press conference was winding down. There was even a foreign news crew there...she recognized one of them, actually. He looked different in person than on TV, but she was sure she knew who it was.

Chris Olsen was sitting in the press gallery, with Holly Lemay and Travis Rikkers filming in the back. Rikkers appeared tense and disheveled. His hair was out of order, he had bags under his eyes, and despite holding a camera he checked his phone several times during the brief announcements. He'd been desperately trying to contact Christina, hoping she hadn't been at the Olympic Stadium as part of the government attendees or something. His messages hadn't been going through from Dressanna. Holly was still focused on the conference but was keeping a concerned eye on him. She and Olsen had also worked with Christina for weeks, after all.

When he got a chance, Olsen asked "Will the Committee bring in election monitors from abroad as it has in the past? If so, who?"

"We are at this time considering using the services of Democratic Verification LLC and CPO observers," Elizabeth Corbulo replied calmly.

As the press conference wound down, Wendy worked to intercept Elizabeth Corbulo, Dr. Ashren, or their staff. The embassy did say she'd be coming after all. "Excuse me, Excellency? I've been sent on behalf of the Adiran embassy to discuss the election."

Walking out of the press conference, Travis suddenly grabbed at his pocket and yanked out a phone. He then exhaled a breath he'd seemingly been holding in for days.

Christina: Hello my honey; I am hard at work at the Ministry and am in fact preparing messages to be sent out about the election planning. I have heard about some issues but we have no reliable reports yet, but just so you know I'm at work. My love wafts on rose scented breezes to you.

Holly asked "What? Is it her?" Rikkers nodded in the affirmative.

"Oh thank god...text her back, quick!" she said, before putting a hand on Travis' shoulder. "See? She's OK," she said reassuringly.

Travis was already punching in a message back to her, collecting himself. 'Just leaving press conference. really glad to hear your ok. protests are peaceful except for by palace, they ordered cavalry guards to break it up. be careful if you end up over there. I love you.'

"Hey! Didn't you guys hear those helicopters?" Chris called back to them. In a lower tone, he said "They're heading for the palace, let's get over there, hopefully the teargas will have dissipated enough," he said. A far cry from his usual unflappable demeanor, he seemed energized, exhilarated even.

"Christina's OK," Holly said simply. "She's at work."

"Oh, good," Olsen said, relieved for both hers and Travis' sakes. Glancing at Travis, he said "You good to go?"

The cameraman was glancing off towards the palace. "Yeah, yeah I'm good."

Streets of Fineberg
Towards Betharan Palace

The crew had taken off at a nearly-jogging pace through the streets, eventually coming into contact with the other protests. While Olsen worked to get his bearings, Holly and Travis took an opportunity to film the peaceful demonstrations at the Cathedral and Victory Square. Olsen inevitably pulled them along towards the Palace before the helos took off again.

While meandering their way through the streets, they started to smell the acidic aroma of teargas. Holly hadn't smelled it before, had to ask what it was. Eventually however they found a small group of people doing much the same thing. The crew quickly noticed a familiar face amongst them.

"Mr. Stanton!" Holly called out, Olsen and Rikkers glancing at her. They started jogging alongside while they picked their way forward.

"Funny how elections seem to bring us together," Chris remarked.

"Was just at the press conference, they announced the protest here was broken up by the Palace Guard?" Holly said.

[New Edom]

San Crispiano, State of Jita, Novitera
San Crispiano International Airport

Thomas Lalery was a young man with broad shoulders, black hair, almost black eyes, a deep olive tan and a build rather like that of a Pit Bull--narrow hips but broad chest, a certain swaggering confidence in his movements. He wore a light grey three piece suit with a pale silk blue tie, and he nodded to the security people. "Thank you. Yes, I'll head on now."

He glanced around himself only a little--the airport rather typical of big modern homogenous cities, with that Noviteran touch of impatience, but really, you could say the same of Thesum or some of Adiron's newer cities.

Harvey Gentry. He reviewed the intelligence dossier he had on him--both the private one from the firm in Callaban the House engaged for their research and the national intelligence services. An interesting man. No one to take lightly. Now they would see.

[New Edom]

NENS Bardiche, Patrolling the Gloria Regian EEZ

The flankers and scouts for most New Edomite surface task forces were the Hatchet Class frigates. Using the CROMWELL II battlenet, radar, sonar, and air defense systems making use of them made them superb in this role. The New Edomite Navy classified them as 'heavy frigates', for they were nearly destroyers in power and scope.

Lieutenant Bartholemew Meschach, now commander, was an earnest young man, considered a very up and coming promising officer, but he was also an embittered man, who had lost people in the previous hard days in Sixington, and had been a member of the Communist Party. He had always deplored the actions of the Anarchists, had wanted social change through elections and activism, but now felt that they had to take strong measures. He was not a Feminist but he saw their claims of injustice as fair. It was a political alliance, for the good of his people. A Gloria Regian born Baran, he felt kinship with his province more than with the mainland. So did many in his crew. He had to contend a bit with Lieutenant Samantha Daven though--the Anglo-German Leck born girl felt that she, as a woman, should be in command, though he had a month on her for his promotion. She could be a bit of a sea lawyer, but she was also the engineer, so he had to be careful, she could bring the whole vessel to a halt if she wanted. He and the other mutineers were going armed anyway--he had a pistol in his belt and he knew he could count on Chief Withers who had a riot gun nearby.

"Sir we're picking up multiple air contacts," said the Air Defense officer, Solomon Clare.

"Alright, let's identify them," said Meschach.

"AWACs confirms...they're unusual...they're saying they are Ossorian."

Meschach raised his eyebrows. "Well, we're a long way from home...and there's not a lot of water of life around here. Just sea water. Advise AWACs we are heading in their direction and will establish contact ourselves."

Code: Select all

Unknown air units SSW of Gloria Regis with Ossorian signatures:
This is NENS Bardiche. You are approaching the New Edomite territorial waters. Please identify and state purpose.

[Hittanryan]

Naval Base Helios
Draconia

Admiral Henriksen was reading something the younger generation seemed to have lost an appreciation for: a print newspaper. One missed something just searching for specific articles. A newspaper you would thumb through, sometimes have something catch your eye, stumble upon something you hadn't planned on learning that day. Online news was just...tiny snippets with no connections to other stories, or videos, which meant more talking heads like that puffed-up Townsend. That sort of hype might have been why the fleet had been put on alert.

As was likely the case throughout South Acheron, Henriksen's news item of the day was about the death of the Boy General. The Admiral remembered Peregrino. Remembered the man's brinkmanship, the aircraft circling the island menacingly daring the CPO to dissuade them. He'd been a sitting duck; politics had demanded that Henriksen not conceal his movements, that he kept his surveillance net cast all over the island to monitor the ceasefire line. In the process he had fed the Edomites SIGINT, allowing them to pinpoint his location while all he could do was monitor their approaches.

Now he was gone. Somehow, Henriksen felt relief and troubled at the same time. On the one hand, a government who had worked with the Imperium and was crafty enough to outfox the international community time and again was dead. On the other, what if there was something worse who would take his place?

Henriksen's thoughts were interrupted by a call from the bridge. "Sir, we've been hailed by HMS Isara Trento, Cacertian Third Fleet. They're informing us of their approach, claim to be en route to New Edom. Air patrols are starting to ID them now."

"Cacerta? I thought the exercises were over. Unless it's about the President's death," Henriksen replied.

"They didn't specify, but the exercises concluded several days ago," the XO said.

"...how did they keep a fleet deployment this quiet? There was nothing from the government," he mused, setting the newspaper and rising to his feet. "Is it worse than we thought over there?"

"I...can't say, sir. Unless there's word from on high," the XO said hesitantly.

"Thank you, Captain. If you can find out what they plan on doing, then that will be all," Henriksen dismissed. Meanwhile he fired off a message back to New Laconia informing them of the Cacertian fleet movement and inquiring what might be so urgent in Fineberg to warrant the rapid deployment of an entire carrier group.

To: HMS Isara Trento, Flagship, 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet
From: Admiral Henriksen, Eastern Special Tasks Group, Adiran Navy
Encryption: Moderate

Thank you for appraising us of these recent fleet movements. Operations is requesting to know the nature of this deployment so we can accurately inform patrols and radar operators of what to expect from your task force. We would also appreciate if you could keep us appraised of course changes.

Henriksen

[Ossoria]

[Withdrawn]

[New Edom]

Harbourtown

At the Church of the Holy Paraclete, End Times Church congregants were dancing and singing to Psalm 150: Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord. It was written that Christ, when confronted with angry pharisees telling him his followers were too noisy, had said that the rocks and stones would praise him if the people ceased to. And the Prophet Under had called for 7 days of prayer and fasting---fasting from sunup to sundown--the only activity other than prayer, worship, meditation and fasting was to be care for those who were helpless.

Hands clapping, cymbals beating, drums beating, horns and stringed instruments and flutes accompanied the singing and dancing in ecstasy. Many shops had closed down, and there was a crisis at the ports and airports where non-ETC workers had had to be rushed in to keep things going. However even they were reluctant, and so some flights through Harbourtown had to be canceled or were diverted. Shipping inspections began to pile up, trains began to slow down.

It was not as easy as all that though, and it all started in a way because of a long established dispute from when William Touchstone had ruled this part of the country.

---

Even with the most advanced waste reduction techniques on the planet, the United Socialist States of Schultaria Prime still some 2.78 billion m3 of unrecyclable material every year - most of it as ceramics or glass byproducts from thousands of plasma induction waste facilities. While the national government has passed legislation to find productive uses for Schultaria's ceramic waste in construction and national defense, the Schultarian Scientific Collective has been encouraging research laboratories to convert the nation's steady stream of refuse into useful raw materials. Doctor Kiishik Davoor, a Professor with the University of Schultaria Prime-Grosh'tex, designed a massively upscaled version of the Designweks Calutron Refinement Facility which has shown considerable promise in tackling the nation's waste problems.

By vaporizing materials with high energy electrons, a beam of ions is created that can be deflected by a series of magnetic fields corresponding to particular elemental groups. Through repeated deflections, the beam's matter begins to accumulate in specially designed nuclear separation capsules which, in turn, create pure elemental substances that are magnetically refined and completely reusable for modern industrial processes.

At the nearly 82,000 square foot facility just outside of Harbourtown, people were still hard at work. The facility had its own small railyard, and airfield, and many roads. It was open 24 hours a day, had three shifts a day, and was a major bone of contention for the ETC, had been the result of even chiding between the Prophet Burden and Mr. Touchstone, though Burden was milder than Under.

"It HAS to be kept open, you bloody fools," barked the Shift Operations Manager, Theo Card, who was a Presbyterian. "You think I don't honour prayer and the sabbath? But it is the only facility like this...where are we supposed to ship it all, Adiron? Gylias?"

"You don't understand," said the ETC Elder Brother, Innocent, who was speaking to him tersely, arms folded over his chest. He had the look of a sharp tongued accountant with his steel rimmed glasses and narrow face. "This is a matter of solidarity. The main commercial interests in this country are Monarchists and Social Democrat types. They need to understand that they cannot just push the Lord's people around."

"My people are praying, Elder Brother, but I am not a member of your Church. Mine is as guaranteed by the constitution as yours! Now you need to move your people off our roads!" growled Card, folding his arms too.

Innocent shook his head and slowly backed away. "My friend, we will not back away even if you drive over us. You need to shut this facility down. In a couple of days it will have to shut down anyway if we hold the roads, the railroad and your airfield. You may tell your bosses...but you will find they are already being informed. You will see the error of your ways."

Watching the man's narrow back and backside retreating, Card narrowed his eyes. "Get the fire response team out," he said to his assistants. "We'll show these sons of bitches..."

[Novitera]

San Crispiano

Lalery was taken in a black SUV from the airport towards the city of San Crispiano. Comparatively it was smaller than most Noviteran cities. The people here for the most part worked to support San Crispiano's tourism. Yet there were a few start up tech firms popping up. They passed a thirty story building with the blocks "SCGE" on the top. That stood for San Crispiano Gaming Exchange which managed electronic bet trading on sporting events throughout Cornellia. It was perhaps the most transacted betting exchange in the entire Region. The car pulled onto Luminaire Boulevard which was right along the ocean. This one street was the main reason why people came to the city. On it were all the hotels, resorts and casinos. There were night clubs and gentleman's clubs on the right, opposite of the water. The best the city had to offer was packed into this four and half mile long street which glowed bright in the night time with all its dazzling lights.

The SUV pulled up to the Dynasty, a mega hotel at around six hundred feet. It held over two thousand rooms and a gaming floor as large as a football field. They got valet parking and the two security guards led Lalery through. With the way the layout was arranged, one had to pass through the gaming floor. There were armed guards wearing ear pieces talking with pit bosses. Every patron was under their watchful gaze for any signs of trouble making or cheating. The hotels of San Crispiano were some of the most heavily guarded establishments in Novitera. Slot machines lined all the walls which rang incessantly. There were craps tables, roulette, black jack and a myriad of other games to play. People cheered or cursed as their fortunes changed at the roll of a dice. In the side rooms people could play more focused games of poker for high stakes. The hotel had a VIP entrance with its own elevator of course. But they were not taking Lalery to his suite.

Dynasty had a Roman theme. The decorations inside emulated the palaces of Novitera's ex-overlords. Waitresses in revealing togas walked about serving alcohol for free to keep the gamblers from making good decisions. The card dealers wore laurel wreaths on their heads. Some of the male staff were dressed like the Roman soldiers of ancient times totting blunted gladius swords and fake lorica segmenta armor. A group of patrons were taking pictures with one muscled staff member dressed as a gladiator.

"The hotel staff are watching who watches you. Mister Gentry paid them to make sure nobody takes pictures or videos in case you wanted this visit to go unnoticed." One of Lalery's guards said to him. Not that that would really be a problem. It would be rare to find a Noviteran who knew who Thomas Lalery was. The precaution anyways in case there was a journalist around. Other than Lalery's physique and air of confidence, a group of people in fine suits was not an uncommon sight in Novitera and they went the rest of the way without attracting attention.

They took one of the main elevators to the pool area. It was a few floors up. There were different pools and hot tubs surrounded by artfully placed vegetation and seating. There were tables shield from the sun with large umbrellas. People sat having a cocktail and chatting among themselves. Groups of young men and women in swimsuits laid about tanning or splashing about in the pool. In one there was a pick up volleyball game going between a group of undergraduates from Folkport. Aside from them there were also plenty of older couples and even families. Overall however, the hotel was sparsely populated this weekend.

They led Lalery to an isolated gazebo in the back that housed a few lounging couches and a low glass table. It still had a view of the pool area where the younger crowd had gravitated to. Not college students but postgraduates and yuppies. On the table were a few different kinds of liquors and a box of cigars. The seats were occupied by four men. First was Harvey Gentry who was wearing khaki pants and a red polo. Parker Gladwin kept up formalities wearing a full gray suit. Miles Bryson had on a light blue oxford shirt and shorts. All of them set down their glasses and stood when Lalery approached. Harvey and Miles took off their sunglasses. Lalery's guards beckoned for him to go forward.

"Mister Lalery! A pleasure to finally meet you. I was at the Queen's Ball in Fineberg. A shame we never crossed paths then." Harvey said enthusiastically and refrained from extending a hand knowing that was not a New Edomite custom. Although the Noviteran would not debase himself so much to call him "Count". "Let me introduce you to my associates. This is Parker Gladwin, Senior Adviser to Chief Executor Trask." The spectacled man nodded without a smile. "Miles Bryson sits on the FDP with me and is on the Commerce Committee."

"Welcome!" Miles exclaimed.

"Have a seat Mister Lalery. Can we get you drink? Smoke? I know it was a long flight. Perhaps you'd like to order some food?" Harvey asked putting back on his sunglasses. They waited for Lalery to sit before they did.

[New Edom]

Streets of Finebeg

The sight of the Shalumite helicopters removing the Royal Family from Betharan Palace was a shock. Where were they going? The last time the Royals had been evacuated, civil war had broken out immediately afterwards. As the rotors blew debris and dust all over with their withdrawal, it also caused a shock through the Cavaly Guards who were still deployed.

"What is going on, sir?" asked a squad leader in a muffled voice through his gas mask as he drew up alongside his platoon commander.

"Probably just providing assistance. I'll find out. Look out, those fellows have bottles!" The fear was of molotov cocktails, but in fact it was just empties as they threw them trying to flee. The lieutenant shouted, "Reform on me--" and was about to order a charge at a small group of naked civvies scattering across the debris laden street, here and there people helping moaning bleeding people away to doorways, when one of them yelled, "Press, press, for God's sake, Fineberg Times!"

"Get out of the street, you idiot!" the young officer shouted. "Move it!"

"Damn, you see the unit on that fellow?" quipped a guardsman.

"Clear the road!" the officer trotted forward.

The gas was drifting a bit. One of the Guardsmen grumbled, "Damn, these helmets and masks are hot."

"Yeah, don't mention it," said another. "And they make you sweat. Half the time I can't even see where I'm going..."

"Well see," said the other, "I'm lucky, I have these thick eyebrows, see? That keeps the sweat out and channels it down to the ears..."

"Enough jabber, you two, hey, what's that..."

Trucks were coming around the corner, full of ETC with rifles and RPGs. "Shit..." the lieutenant said. "Sheath batons--unsling arms, Sergeant."

"Sling batons! Unsling arms!" the sergeant barked in his muffled roar.

The platoon of 20 Guardsmen on that particular road, backed up by an APC with watercannon mount, unslung their arms in a swift motion like a machine. The trucks pulled to a halt. From the APC there was a loud ominous ratcheting click from the coaxial machinegun, and a voice blared through a loudspeaker: "That's far enough! Declare your intentions!"

"Who ordered the attack?" shouted a big bull of an ETC Militiaman with a megaphone.

"Your mob tried to storm the palace and attack the Heir!" the voice snapped back from the APC. "I'm going to give you ten seconds with pull back two blocks. We'll contact the DoD."

"The DoD ordered none of this, it was your people who did it!" replied the ETC leader.

"Ten..." said the voice from the APC.

[Cacerta]

Church of the Holy Cross
Fineberg, New Edom
Rebecca took a moment to accept the hospitality of the pastor and his wife as Tim and the other woman left her on her own. She decided to wait a brief few moments in the church, appreciating it, before inquiring Pastor Beamish as to how old the Church of the Holy Cross was. The agent had a weak spot for history and a small pause in all the commotion would do her well to clear her thoughts.

Even in her time in Fineberg, Rebecca had little chance to actually explore the city. She had always been so focused on gathering intel for her people that a small chance like this was rare and appreciated, "If I might be so bold as to ask, Pastor, how old is this Church?"

---

HMS Isara Trento (BB-EE-007), 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet
North-Northwest of Naval Base Helios, Draconia
It didn't take long before the Adirans responded. Jessica appreciated their swift response as her fleet still needed to make good time to the Allied States. She had replaced her tea with a bottle of water, giving her crew a break after a number of test exercises and drills that had left most of them weary -- grateful that their commanding officer had decided she had whipped them enough.

To: Admiral Henriksen, Eastern Special Tasks Group, Adiran Navy
From: Rear Admiral Jessica Trento, 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet, Cacertian Royal Navy

Our mission to New Edom is based on an urgent telegram sent to our Queen from Princess Jocasta Obed in regards to a likely request for possible military intervention as part of the Treaty of Padan. No orders from our Grand Admiralty, however, have not yet indicated troop deployment. Some flights of reconnaissance helicopters may be seen. Any changes to our current operations will be forwarded to you.

Signed,
Rear Admiral Jessica Trento

"XO," she stated, "All ahead full. I want to see us making waves and near New Edom before the sun rises tomorrow."

He saluted her, "Yes, Ma'am! All ahead full."

---

HMS Domenica Anteo (LHD-DA-001), 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet
North-Northwest of Naval Base Helios, Draconia
Colonel Luciana Lutazzi was in her cabin aboard the amphibious assault ship Domenica Anteo, assembling and disassembling her new Naval Assault Rifle, doing her best to familiarize herself with the weapon's internal mechanics. It was a new rifle to her, having resisted for the last three years to pick it up. She had loved her AR556, but her superiors were right -- it was old, out-dated, and needed to be replaced. The NAR was vastly lighter and smaller, being a bullpup made up of new polymers that were not extensively used in the passed decades. It was advanced and accurate and durable. She missed the weight of her old assault rifle -- she felt she was going to break this damn thing. After re-assembling her rifle for the hundredth time, the thirty year old Luciana took a deep breath and placed it back into her case.

Civil Unrest. It didn't feel that long ago when when she was flying into Vichenza -- her nation's own capital -- in full combat gear and landing on the rooftops as if they were in enemy territory. That's what it must feel like in the Allied States right now, especially if the Queen had decided to send them in full-force.

Not too long ago, Luciana had wanted to travel to New Edom with her husband as a vacation -- an exotic nation far different from that of Cacerta. It was going to be their next trip when Luciana had the time off, but it didn't look like that was going to be happening soon. She looked up at her combat uniform, hanging from a hook next to her bed -- black, grey, and white urban digital camouflage -- and then looked back at her rifle. Luciana hoped that she wouldn't have to use either for long. She hoped she wouldn't have to use either of them at all.

[New Edom]

Obeds

Thomas Lalery

The place was shining, blazing, busy, noisy, glittery, vulgar. None of the elegance of the resort at Quality Bay. He liked it. Walking through, he was aware that in a sense he disappeared to all but the vigilant, as many here were well dressed, rich and yet discreet even in their share in the vulgarity. He liked this too. The lack of handshake was a nice touch, so many nationals of Cornellian origin just arrogantly thrust their culture at you like a queer at an orgy. The scantily clad women did not interest him much. He had other interests when it came to women--it was just that the had seen few when he was at the monastery except at an extreme distance of course.

However he was clear on one point. "There is no Mister Lalery, except for..." he glanced to where the bodyguards had gone. "But in future I am Count Lalery. If that is too difficult...thanks for the flight, it was enjoyable." he smiled casually as though it was no big deal if he stayed or left.

Queen Mara

Mara had, after his arrival, spent nearly an hour in private with Prince Elijah. The tall melancholy Prince had been missed greatly, and even though he said little to anyone...in fact when the medical staff were presented he merely nodded to them and said in a loud whisper of Amyris Rezanic, "I thought she was a maid whose name I had forgotten. Are you sure she isn't?"

"No, she's been hired for therapy for Mara..." Enoch explained.

"Good, good. Don't believe in it myself, but that's in your docket, eh?" Elijah said with a sort of doleful congeniality.

Watching them from a distance walking and talking together, Mara in denim shorts, barefoot with a pink tank top on, the tall dark haired bronzed Elijah in tropical navy whites, they were an odd couple but Mara seemed relaxed, laughing even occasionally, turning her face frequently to him, Precious trotting along with them as they paused while Elijah examined flowers or remarked to her. Mara for the first time in weeks talked with her hands expressively.

Finally, they came back. Mara said smiling shyly, "I am going to go to the resort...therapy...thing. I am going to make a public announcement that I am sick. And I am...oh my gosh, I'm asking for help! For reals, from all of you and from Elijah...who is going to tackle the government issues and sort everything out. So...Doctor Rezanic, I need you to work out with Doctor Weinstein, with Enoch and everyone what needs to be done. How much I can bring with me and everything."

"You have 63 dresses alone," said Tegan. "I'd better start packing. That's to say nothing of ball gowns, skirts, jackets, tank tops, halter tops, flats, heels..."

"We might have to be a little modest about that stuff," Enoch said with a quirk of his mouth.

"And what about the stables, Precious, me?" said Tegan.

"And will I be in attendance?" asked Mr. Zoar. "My goodness though, this is chaotic...Your Majesty must of course have time to discuss it appropriately, we are in disarray. We shall withdraw."

Mara nodded her head and said, "Well...all of you work it out. I'm...feeling drained again, I'm going to have a little nap...but...oh my gosh, I'm just starving, could I get some soup or something?"

"Soup would be splendid perhaps with something a little more substantial. For me and my aides as well, and General Ashdod."

Everyone looked in his direction. Ashdod was smelling some flowers and had an odd dreamy serene look on his face.

"What's wrong with him anyway?" Mara asked. "Is he high or something?"

"No, he thought he was going to die, now he is in that apres death mode," said Elijah with a shrug. "Happens. Perhaps a sandwich will put him right."

[Tericio]

ignore

[Hittanryan]

Naval Base Helios
Draconia

The message from the Cacertians was immediately passed onto Henriksen. This one finally prompted him to put down the newspaper entirely. This was strange, at the behest of who? A princess? Not the Queen? Or the surviving elements of the Interim Government? Getting back on the phone, Henriksen was fully roused now.

"That's all they said, sir. Jocasta Obed," the XO replied.

"...report it back to the capital. Forward the entirety of that message," Henriksen replied.

"What does it mean, sir?" the XO asked again.

"It means we might be watching a belligerent force sail by," Henriksen replied, having retrieved his service cap and boots.

"Is it war?"

"We're not politicians, Captain. But make sure we've got it right. Clarify what they meant by at the request of Jocasta Obed. I'm coming aboard," he said, hanging up.

On a hot tarmac on base, a Seahawk's rotor blades were spinning up. Soon enough the admiral, returning cursory salutes all around, was boarding the aircraft and lifting off to return to his ship, the ANS Aldrich.

To: Rear Admiral Jessica Trento, 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet, Cacertian Royal Navy
From: Admiral Henriksen, Eastern Special Tasks Group, Adiran Navy
Encryption: Moderate

Can you confirm that you are deploying at the behest of the Heir to the Throne, not Her Majesty the Queen or the Edomite Department of Defense? What is the proposed scope of this intervention?

Henriksen

[Cacerta]

HMS Isara Trento (BB-EE-007), 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet
North-Northwest of Naval Base Helios, Draconia

To: Admiral Henriksen, Eastern Special Tasks Group, Adiran Navy
From: Rear Admiral Jessica Trento, 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet, Cacertian Royal Navy

Currently, Admiral, there is no plan for intervention. The Admiralty has ordered us to the area to make preparations for possible military interdiction should the worse come to pass. From what I have been told, the Edomite Department of Defense has not made a formal request for aid.

As for Her Majesty, Queen Mara, our Highness has made a personal inquiry as to her whereabouts. Currently there has been no response from the Heir.

Signed,
Rear Admiral Jessica Trento

[Shalum]

Shalumite Marine Base
New Edom

For the most part, the Shalumite marines on the VIP helicopter stayed quiet throughout the ride. None of them wanted to provoke any sort of altercation after everything that had happened in the last few action-packed minutes, especially Major Jean-Paul, who ended up being tasked with making sure that the royal ladies were all properly secure in their seats, just in-case the pilot had to make evasive maneuvers for one reason or another. He assumed that the men could handle themselves, so as soon as he had confirmed that the women were properly strapped in, he quickly found shelter of one of nearby corners of the helicopter's cabin, and hopefully out of the way of what he assumed could become easily vengeful princess.

Every now and then, he would awkwardly shift on his boot heels and glance at the VIPs whom he had been tasked with evacuating. When he could, a subtle, appraising glance or two would be sent Jocasta's way as he admired the beautiful princess, and the lacy dress which she filled out all too well for her liking. While he would never admit it, he had certainly enjoyed having her thrown over his shoulder, and truth be told, he wished that her tutor would have taken the liberty of following through with his whisperings. That would have been a sight to see, Paul was sure of that...

At one point, a marine who had accompanied Paul, but had been wearing a balaclava at the time, drifted over to the Edomites with a medical kit in hand. Without the black mask, it was clear that he was a few years younger than Paul. "Uh, I meant to ask this when we took off, but is everyone alright? Does anyone need any sort of medical attention?" He asked as he looked around at the Edomites and Michael, his eyes curious as he did so. Sure, he wasn't a fully fledged combat doctor or anything, but he did have at least basic knowledge of first aid. He had to in this line of work.

Meanwhile, in the other helicopters, the regular marines who had been tasked with holding the line assuming the angry mob overran the defenses, had begun to settle in now that they were in the safety of their helicopters. "Man, that went a helluva lot better than I thought it would. I didn't even have to raise my grenade launcher at anything." Lance Corporal Roger Andrews said as he settled into one of the available seats, said grenade launcher settled between his legs for the moment. Off came his helmet, which he sat in his lap as well, to reveal his short raven hair.

"No shit, I thought we were going to have to do some shooting." Nora Hawkins replied as she plopped down into the seat next to him with less than ladylike grace. She tugged her helmet off to reveal her short auburn hair. "Can't say I'm disappointed though. I prefer to shoot at people who can shoot back." She shrugged as she dug around in her BDU pants till she found what she was looking for, a pack of cigarettes. She hastily brought one of the cancer sticks to her lips and lit in.

"Mind if I get one of those?" First Sergeant Archibald Anderson asked calmly, eyeing the pack and lighter that were in her smaller hands.

"Eh, sure." She said, offering him the pack, which he accepted without word. "I didn't know you smoked though. You always seemed too much like a prude for that sort of thing." She said bluntly, earning a raised eyebrow from Roger.

"Oh I am, don't worry about that." Anderson chuckled, a small smile playing on his lips. "Doesn't mean I don't indulge now and then. Especially after a mission went as well as this one." He continued as he looked out of the helicopter at the quickly disappearing scene below. "It looks like things may be starting to break up. I wonder if they'll stay that way though." He said in lower tone with a shake of the head.

Eventually, the grand capital city that was Fineberg was little more than a speck on the horizon behind them, as the helicopters got closer to the Shalumite military installation. It might not have been the most comfortable ride for some of them, since military helicopters were meant to be utilitarian, not flashy and accommodating, but they managed to finally get to the base in one piece. As they began to pass over, there was certainly an increase in Shalumite flags and logos, not to mention marines and armored vehicles. The base seemed to feel alive, as marines went to and fro, performing duties they had been assigned to do; whether it be get an MRAP ready to go at a moments notice, or gear up in-case things went awry in the capital city.

They passed over all of this, until they came to an airfield that was attached to the base. It wasn't huge like one may have expected to see at a dedicated airbase, but it could easily handle CTOL aircraft, from fighter craft to larger cargo planes that would have brought supplies in. Today, however, the runways were populated mostly by helicopters, whether they be utility Iron Eagles like what the marines had rescued the royalty in, or Ranger attack helicopters that weren't needed but had been rolled out for the occasion. They bypassed all of these helicopters, and gently came in for a landing in the large, open landing strip where they wouldn't have to worry about bumping into anything. One by one, the helicopters came in for, the one with the Edomite royal family being the first to touch the ground, followed in turn by the other four.

"Ramirez, Fleischmann, get the doors open." Major Paul ordered the Garzan captain and the marine who had offered to help anyone who may have been hurt. Neither marine missed a beat, as they quickly went over to their respective doors and worked them open, sliding them back. The marines quickly disembarked from the helicopter to make room for the others. Paul and Ramirez stood at the two at both doors, ready to assist any of the royal ladies (or men) who may have needed assistance because of their state of dress among other things.

As the MARSOC marines and Paul assisted the Edomites if they needed it, a few of vehicles rolled onto the runway to meet them, most of them being locally acquired land rovers. It was clear that these were the vehicles that officers used, and had been sent for the occasion to pick up the VIPs. Once they came to a halt, the drivers exited their vehicles, but left them running. Among these men, unsurprisingly, was General Jack Harper. He wasn't dressed in the more formal uniform that he had gotten use to wearing around the house and Camilla, but instead in fatigues. One might not have been able to pick him out from the rest of him, if not for the fact he looked a bit older than some of the marines, and the rank that was on his uniform.

"Come on, lets go see if they're alright." Jack said as he tiled his head to look at General Schultz, who nodded and quickly fell in behind the higher ranking general. As they got close, it was clear that a weight was practically lifted off General Harper's chest as he saw his wife present and apparently healthy. His eyes seemed to light up a bit more as he approached. "Excuse me, I am General Jack Harper, the commander of the 103rd." He introduced himself formally, for those who had not met him among the VIPs.

His gaze lingered Camilla for a moment before continued, not quite sure if now was the best time to hug his wife so hard that he would lift her off the ground, kiss her, and tell her how worried he was, among other things. He still had every intention of doing that, of course. "Is everyone here alright? We've been getting mixed reports about the situation on the ground." He stated as he came to a stop beside his wife and the other royalty.

[Gavinium Magnus]

Desiree had departed already, due to a special cabinet meeting that she had to attend with her brother, King Maximian II, so was already en route to Gavinium City when she saw the news about Fineberg....she immediately called Enoch....

Enoch, dear, please pick up your phone....I want to know that you're doing fine, Desiree thought as she held their child, Prince Mark, in her arms at her bosom and weaned him.

"Are you ready for the meeting, Sis?" Max broke into her thoughts for the third cabinet session in three days.

"No, sorry, Max. I...can't do anything, can't focus on anything right now but Enoch and little Mark here. You go on without me. My husband is in danger and I feel that I have left him at the worst possible moment. I should never have left...," Desiree felt guilt right then.

"Sis, if you hadn't left, I would be worried sick about you and Mark right now, and I wouldn't be able to focus on my royal duties. It is a blessing from the Light. Yeah, I know, I know...you're a Christian now. Still, you get the idea. Reach your husband, I understand. You love him dearly. I don't think that he loves you back, but that's your marriage. If you're both happy, so am I for you. He's a slothful man, but we cannot all have perfect marriages. My wife is out of the country half the time. Good thing that she doesn't resent my mistresses. Anyway, we'll carry on and brief you later. Pity that Enoch isn't there to...de-brief you," Max punned.

"Not funny, Max," Des gave him a less than amused look.

"Sorry, I'm a little jaded of late. I don't mean to sound unsympathetic, even if I don't like the man. Don't forget, though. This is a marriage of convenience first. I approve of that at least. Just don't let him rule you too much. He has his interests and you have yours. You are, at least for now, the Crown Princess of Gavinium Magnus, the Heiress Presumptive to the Throne of Light. You are no man's pet," Max gave her a brotherly embrace before heading to the cabinet meeting, fighting off his attraction to her....after all, she was his sister, and Gavinian royals were supposed to scrap that.

For the greater good, Max had abandoned royal incest, just like his uncle, but that didn't mean that the habits of thought were easy to break.....he hadn't dared to kiss Desiree, lest his affection for her express itself in a stereotypically Gavinian manner. At times, he wondered if Desiree had at times felt hurt and rejected by his determination not to revive the incest tradition. If she did, then....she had been rather quiet about it, just like him.

Des sat there, still dialing, waiting for an answer from sweet Enoch....so kind he was to her. He apparently had women, but then, she had lovers, too....she just chose not to act on it while around him. She did things only in Gavinium, where it was safe to do so. She still liked him a lot, even if she knew that this was a royal marriage of convenience. She had tried to be faithful at first, but....well, it was hard to resist the loneliness at times. The more she loved him, the lonelier she felt.

Meanwhile, a proclamation came out from the cabinet meeting.

To the Queen, Heir, and Her Majesty's Government of the Allied States of New Edom, from His Sacred Majesty, Maximian II, King of Gavinium Magnus, Chancellor Julian Calvert, and His Majesty's Government of the Sacred Kingdom of Gavinium Magnus:

Your Majesty, Highness, Excellencies,

Due to these tragic deaths and this horrible disaster visited upon you by Providence, most terribly including the whole of Her Majesty's previous government, be it known that we offer our condolences and deepest sympathies to the Queen, Government, and People of New Edom, and strongly urge that people remain calm and uphold the social order against fanatics and zealots, as well as radical revolutionaries, separatists, and the like. Know that we strongly support the lawful, constitutional Government of Her Majesty, Queen Mara I of New Edom, which was installed in her name by the lawful Heir. We urge that everyone in New Edom accept our sympathies and give their new regime a chance to maintain law and order, rather than seize the chance to rebel at every turn. Beyond our moral support, we also offer the Government a loan equal to 250,000,000 international standard dollars from our foreign currency reserves for whatever needs are paramount at this time.

Nemo Me Impune Lacessit.

Sincerely,
King Maximian II of Gavinium Magnus
Chancellor Julian Calvert of Gavinium Magnus
Foreign Minister Stephanie Martineau

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Sixington, Gloria Regis

Livia Barberina's Safe House

The streets of Sixington had begun to fill with exiles, for they were all technically exiles now, as the blessed pamphlets began to rain down over the city and the same message reverberated over the radio. One by one the safe houses and volunteer centers began to expel an incredible number of women and men, Feminist Collective leadership and members, handfuls of Communists who had been swept up in the chaos of the collapse, and the nearly three hundred exiles who had been smuggled into the country just before the collapse. Also very present were the Shrailleeni themselves, whose numbers also seemed to have quietly increased over time, including an unusual number of men.

The news spread like wildfire, and it wasn't any more than half an hour after the pamphlets fell that every safe house in the city was aware of what had transpired.

Outside of the Volunteer HQ that doubled as Livia Barberina's safe house, Martha Yeager could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

"Yes!" she had cried out jubilantly, jumping up and down "yes, yes yes! Ha! Take that!"

Livia herself had broken down in tears and prayer, Julianna looked like she was some combination of elated and terrified, and Allene seemed completely unfazed by the situation. Eventually Livia composed herself, getting up and looking at the rest of them.

"I want to confirm this," she said. "I want to talk to the people at the Navy Base...I want to talk to our sisters, our brave sisters and the brothers who helped them. We will not be kicked down again, not this time. And friends--we must have access to talking to the Shrailleeni Government directly. This time they cannot ignore us, they must not. And the Anathaat sisters, all of them, Ali-Zebu. I will not go into that basement again. Now is our time!"

"Hell yes, excuse my Jedorian," Martha replied. "I say its time to take back our country! This time we have the weapons, we have the numbers, we have an aircraft carrier!"

She broke down laughing, and started to cry as she found herself unable to repress her emotions any longer. Julianna looked more thoughtful, turning to Livia with wide eyes.

"At last," she said slowly, "I can hardly believe it. A chance at redemption."

For the first time in a long time, a spark of her old fire returned to her eyes.

"We have the equipment, we can call the Navy Base right now. Maybe they can patch us through to the Empire..." she looked at Allene cautiously "...if the Shrailleeni are really going to be on our side this time."

Allene stood firm under the look. "I'm on your side Sisters, I took the fall from the Empire when I harbored you. I don't think that the Foreign Minister would have sent me back here if he didn't have a plan. The Empire cannot, will not, ignore you again. Especially not after all of the rhetoric they have been dropping lately about international Sisterhood and Dengali. I have the Foreign Minister's number, you can call him directly when you get the chance."

When Julianna looked close, she saw that the Shrai woman actually had tears in her eyes.

"I won't let you down again," she continued, voice wavering. "I won't."

In the safe house, a Shrailleeni operator put Livia on a line to the Navy Base while Allene composed a message to be similarly sent. The Shrailleeni, taking advantage of the chaos, had a huge amount of access to the city, and the letter was entrusted to a volunteer messenger who drove a marked car flying the Shrailleeni flag toward the base at a slow but deliberate pace.

To: Commander Clytemnestra Hortensius
From: Allene Triaka, Shrailleeni Head Volunteer

My dear Sister, your immense courage this day has earned the praise of your ancestors and showered honor upon your name and that of your house. The Mother Goddess surely shines her light and blessings upon you for your heroism and determination.

No doubt by this time you will have spoken with Sister Livia Barberina, and have been advised of the truth of the situation in Sixington. Specifically, that the Feminist Collective has not this nation as supposed, but has been entrenched here awaiting an active precisely such as yours. I have been instructed on behalf of the Shrailleeni government to provide you with the following points of information, to be followed by direct contact with the Empire to further illuminate the situation.

1. With respect to the establishment of the Sisterhood of Nations among the Shrailleeni, Deadoran, Macurean, Ali-Zebu, and Anathaat nations, all nations of the Sisterhood are moved to promote the principles of international Sisterhood and to ensure that nations which promote or adhere to that Sisterhood are protected and allowed the freedom of self-determination. This directive may be invoked in your case to provide ample justification for our support to your endeavor, however, it must be ensured that this is possible.

2. With the government of New Edom experiencing a time of great upheaval, the Shrailleeni government has no wish to see the women of the mainland suffer to any greater extent then they already have, nor any desire to abandon an ally. This being the case, we ask that the principles of peace, dialogue, and negotiation be made primary in all of your endeavors so that the international community cannot accuse Gloria Regis of hypocrisy.

3. With all due care, the Shrailleeni Empire wishes to ensure that this operation adheres to the highest standards of peace and honor. The patriarchs must not be harmed unless they strike first, revenge must not be taken upon the defeated, and at all times peace must be offered, even in the midst of war.

Further information shall be provided following the Imperial government's appraisal of the situation. You may in consider me your liaison in this matter, and throughout the coming days.

With the love of the Mother of All,

Allene Triaka

[New Edom]

Fineberg

The Ministry of Defense

The buffet was set on tables with red cloths over them, and there was hot fresh mint tea with honey, fizzy water which you could get a servant to add lemon, lime, orange or blueberry juice to, red Falernian wine, white sweeter wine from Vyrsar, or plain iced water. There were crab cakes, shrimp skewers with fat shrimp that had been basted in coconut oil and rubbed with spices, lamb or vegetable samosas in crisp thin pastry, hummus with pita triangles, or a table where you could have a chef help you make your own sandwiches. Herb and oil and vinegar bowls were laden with fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, radish, bean sprouts, as well as on side plates fresh falafel patties or shawarma chicken or capybara. There was tahini sauce as well as dijon mustard, and a great bowl of goat's cheese.

Dr. Ashren, on whom Elizabeth Corbulo had fobbed Wendy, was talking to her. "Yes, we've established through polls that a unicameral parliamentary system suits our people best, though there's still some struggle with some areas that want a delegacy system. It's really most interesting..."

Elizabeth Corbulo was eating lightly, her eye on the time, when Marcus Cotta came up to her and whispered in her ear; Colleen Fish was close behind him.

"Don't look like you're panicking, but I just heard that the City Militia are having a confrontation with the Guards at Betharan. The Guards told them to stand off or they'd shoot."

Elizabeth's smile froze. "What?"

"I'm going to talk to the Chiefs," Colleen told them, "But we all need to make our way to an exit and talk about this. This could get ugly really fast."

"I think it already did," Cotta said grimly. "The story about the Guardsmen breaking up the protest is true. Also...Shalumite helicopters took off from Betharan, no one knows why. And Ashdod is missing."

"Jesus Christ!" exclaimed Elizabeth. The other two stared at her. "I mean...may He protect us!"

Betharan Palace

While the group of officials began to figure out who should leave the room and who should stay, the Elder Brother commanding the Militia Detachment touched his radio headset, frustration twitching on his face. "Fall back two blocks. Retire, retire!"

The Guardsmen watched them go. "Alright," said the Captain to the lieutenant via their own radio connection. "Hold your position for now."

Up from his position at the window, Count Jonas Falk breathed a sigh of relief. He had accomplished his mission thus far--the Guardsmen had held the streets till the Heir and the Royal Family could be safe.

His phone rang. He answered, and got a cold voice in response. "Count Falk/" said a strong Haranese accent.

"Yes, General Augrim," he said crisply. His head was throbbing.

"Hast thou taken leave of thy senses? Why attack a crowd of protestors? Thou wilt as a foolish child kick the nest of the hornets." the cold voice said.

"General," Falk said coldly back, "I did what was necessary to protect the Royal Family from a swarming mob of murderous vandals."

There was a silence, and he filled it quickly, "No lethal force was used. We used riot control methods with horse, water cannon, batons--we didn't even have to fire the rubber bullets. It's over."

"Why did the helicopters of Shalum go to the Palace? Why did they as abruptly leave?" demanded Augrim.

"To evacuate the Heir." Falk said. Stupid Haranese peasant.

"She has abandoned Fineberg? In the Name of God, why?" Augrim said, his tone not changing.

"Because the city is in rebellion and you are a mutineer, along with Benajah, Fish, Button, Vrinn, Cotta...all of you." Falk said grimly. "You disobeyed direct orders from the acting Head of State."

"We followed the law, thou madman," said Augrim, his tone turning to sharpness. "As I recall, thou art still a serving officer in the Army. You will turn over your command and report to Fineberg Military District immediately."

Count Falk took a deep breath. "General, I will not receive orders from a mutineer. I am willing to remain here; if you attempt to force me out, I will be forced to resist."

Augrim was quiet a moment. Then he said curtly, "Please be so good as to withdraw your forces into the Palace."

Falk smiled. "I cannot do that either, General. I'm afraid that we must control the streets."

Augrim hung up.

Falk now issued new orders. Discreetly. The squadron of Guardsmen not out on the streets, the gates or at the defenses were to begin to prepare the Palace to resist a general attack. He wanted regular ammunition, anti tank, anti air weapons issued, for the 2nd Squadron to stand to. Armoured vehicles with autocannon, machineguns and missile launchers to be moved out of the armoury. He then called General Hesperinus—getting nothing—which convinced him some kind of uprising was going on—and then General Unwerth. Unwerth assured him that help would be on the way. He thanked him.

Unwerth. He was one of the most able officers in the Army, in the country. He would not fail. His veteran troops would be there within the hour, and would crush this rebellion with a swift stroke.

---

The Ministry of Defense

Meanwhile, Augrim turned to the civil servants and officers with him. “He’s gone out of his mind. They all have,” he said. “I fear that this is…I am not sure what to call this. But we should call out the 9th and have them take Betharan Palace.”

“I don’t agree,” said Marcus Cotta, shaking his head. “We could provoke the crowds by doing that. We have to keep things calm. We have to give very clear orders to the City Militia not to provoke the Guardsmen either. We need to sort this out, get in communication with Jocasta…”

“The Heir seems to think we are all mutineers, according to Falk,” said Augrim. “Therefore it seems to me to be an impasse.”

“But we were not mutinying,” said Elizabeth Corbulo, baffled, “We were simply following the established law, and disagreeing with an unlawful command. My God, she’s worse than King Mark, and who is advising her?”

“Aphek, her mother, Falk, Michael Dakmoor…” said Colleen Fish contemptuously. “Augrim is right. Let’s crush them and get it over with. Let God sort this out after.”

“And something else,” said Colonel Ezra Samuel of the Council Police, who had been asked to join them. “General Ashdod gave orders that command headquarters for the CP should be relocated to Padan. Admiral Shalmaneser is apparently there now, but has sent a communication that there should be peaceful resolution of this crisis, and expressed the wish that there should be a meeting between us and Jocasta and her advisors to sort this out. He expressed doubt that Beroth’s appointment or his are constitutional by Jocasta…but said that Mara appointed him as Minister of Defense and ranking cabinet minister.”

“My God,” said Elizabeth again. “The world is going mad.”

“At least this is a point of negotiation, not mere confrontation,” Augrim said slowly. “I suggest we thank the Vice-Admiral and advise him that we will discuss things with the Heir if she is open to it. Otherwise he must make a decision about who he supports.”

“And is Mara sane or what?” Colleen Fish shook her head. “Damned Royals. And Lalery has gone to Novitera.”

“And then how do we consider my appointment?” Marcus Cotta said. “This is madness, Elizabeth is right.But if Queen Mara is not officially declared mad, then we must consider her appointment at least as a temporary measure correct. Also Prince Elijah is still Chair of the Elections Committee, and said earlier he was standing by his commission and duty in that regard. I suggest for the time being we accept this appointment as correct.”

But each had an opinion, each had a suggested course of action, and no one of them had emerged as a leader yet. And an aide from Peter Misabel informed them that the crowds were growing restless, that large crowds a few blocks from the Palace of Betharan were helping wounded and people gassed to hospitals, and seemed very angry. City Militias were setting up defenses for them. Images of people bleeding, stunned, helped by others, images of curled up figures on the pavement, images of overturned cars and sinister gas masked figures on black masked horses were starting to go viral. The protestors' leaders were demanding to know where the leaders in Fineberg of military and law enforcement stood in all this.

And reports had begun to drift in: in ETC dominated cities, strikes--called 'days of prayer and fasting' by Under--were starting to shut down industry, transport and communication, in Harbourtown, Nass, Hillel and Lookinghaven. To a lesser extent in Dunrigain, Sterry and Gone. Actual strikes were happening in Brightwater and Carnmag with the Greens and ETC refusing to allow certain shipments of goods or transports of passengers to disembark from airports.

"Damn internet," muttered Fish. "I told you all we should have had it controlled entirely by the MoD."

"And there's a blackout over Gloria Regis. No one can get hold of Hesperinus at all. It's definitely electronic warfare," said Samuel.

Shalumite Marine Base
New Edom

Princess Jocasta was quiet, dignified, gracious as she arrived. “Thank you, General Harper, for your kindness,” she said. “May I present my mother, the Queen Dowager Rebecca, my Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Paul Aphek, and the King Consort, Michael of Dakmoor, Colonel Marcus Josephus, my Royal Master of Offices, my ladies in waiting—Countess Jabbok and one whom you know of course all too well…and my closest advisers now that the civil service leaders and military leaders in Fineberg have mutinied and sided with the mob. And here is the bereaved Princess Blanca, widowed by tragedy and loss of General Perrin Pahath-Moab, our late President of the Council and my beloved and trusted cousin…whose loss…wounds us all.” She walked towards the towering general, a curvy young girl with dark hair that was wild and long as the old portraits of Queen Adah the Liberator on the battlefield caring for the wounded. She wore a white lacy dress that her bouncy bosom and swaying round hips and jutting backside defied, delicate heels clicking on the tarmac. Camilla maintained her dignity as best she could, at her elbow, but her eyes swam and she murmured words in Latin to him one of which was love. Her lips quivered in a smile at him.

She said, “I have called for Generals Unwerth and Hesperinus to come to my assistance; they are long loyal to my family and the country, unlike the other traitors there. Count Beroth has not yet made the journey to Fineberg and I have had messages sent to him to advise him to come to another location, I may have to relocate to Padan-Aran, though I despised having to flee. Your officer insisted,” she couldn’t help it, she blushed. He had somehow stripped her monarchy and made her just feel like a girl in his arms. Odious brute. “And we will need transport for Princess Blanca…” she turned to her and took her hand a moment. They were the same age after all—very different upbringings, but she felt sad for her beyond measure. “To be with her family.”

[Hutanjia]

SILVER RIVER AFB
NORTHERN BARA PROVINCE, NEW EDOM

Colonel Hudagku rode in the HRA GAZ Tigr across the base to where General Unwerth held court. As they passed reporters and news vans leaving the press conference, the Colonel looked them over with half-interest. He had been informed belatedly about the press conference conducted by Unwerth on this very base and he was a bit steamed that he didn't know about it sooner. Not that General Unwerth had any certain duty to inform him, or didn't have a million other issues on his mind at the moment to worry about a task like that...Really, would Hudagku have had the time to attend a press conference anyway? What would he have gotten out of it other than a clearer indication of what would be expected of the Hutanjians? Which he was probably going to get anyway from this briefing with the General. He laughed at his own stupid pride. It was possible that the Edomites wanted to play down possible Hutanjian involvement in upcoming operations, anyway. And he'd just put himself on display past all their media...Oh well.

The MUV pulled up and Colonel Hudagku hopped out of the back with an NCO aide.
A Captain that commanded A Co., 2/1 HAR; and also assisted with command staff duties of the RCT, climbed out of the front passenger side. The Captain was the oddest looking Hutanjian that one might see, due to the fact that he wasn't a Hutanjian at all. His non-Polynesian features, tanned Caucasian skin and almost bleached blond hair, plus the 'Roendorf' nametape on the breastpocket of the tiger striped Ranger uniform, would have given that away immediately to any observers. Oskar Roendorf was a Neu Engollian and a USG PMC veteran. He was one of several former USG veterans of many nationalities in the Hutanjian Republican Army that had finished their contracted service with the Uli-Schwyz Galien Security Corporation and decided to take on a commission with the HRA rather than return to wherever they called home after the war, if they even had a home to return to. Many also had ties that they didn't want to leave behind, such as Hutanjian wives or girlfriends and children. Roendorf, for instance, had a Hutanjian wife with a baby on the way back near Patagana.

There had been a severe manpower shortage after the devastating war and the HRA had been in desperate need of qualified, highly skilled personnel. They had been more than willing to take on the USG soldiers and officers, with extra incentives to make it worth their while. Hence, here the former USG NCO turned Captain now found himself as he strode behind his Colonel.

The three HRA soldiers entered the base command center after passing checkpoints and flashing ID and found their way to Unwerth's wing.
"I am Colonel Barton Hudagku, of the Hutanjian RCT, here to see General Unwerth. I believe he is expecting me."
He addressed the Edomite Army clerk.

[Free Garza]

Blanca gulped and looked at the Shalumites, "Thank you, Major....and General. I do appreciate this. Jocasta, dear, make up with the rest of your sister's government. Don't let this descend into civil war. My grandfather was deposed because he wouldn't compromise or make any conciliatory gestures with people who were willing to work with him. He just ruthlessly crushed all opposition. My brother is King now because he is willing to accept a compromise. I urge you to sit down with the Free Congress and talk this over. Get the country united again, as it was under my husband, God and the Saints watch out for his soul now. The path of peace is better than the path of civil war. Hasn't New Edom suffered enough?"

Blanca then said, "Yes, please, take me home to Garza. I am a Garzan still at heart. That is where I belong."

She then burst into tears, the shock fading....., "I only felt at home here with my husband, and then only when he was around. Nothing against the rest of you, but....he was a great man, and I loved him. It wasn't just about his position. I deeply loved him. Don't throw away all that he achieved. National unity, prosperity, peace, partnership with the region. Free elections. Don't destroy his legacy, I beg you."

[New Edom]

Gloria Regis

NENS Bardiche, Patrolling the Gloria Regian EEZ

Cute Meschach thought. He had a faint glimmer of an idea of why older people were preferred for larger ship commands, but no time to worry now. He put it aside.

Code: Select all

Rider1:
I am capable of reading a map. However you are very close to the New Edomite EEZ of Gloria Regis and are rather far from home. Please state purpose as a courtesy.

"What if they don't?" the acting exec said.

"We have to keep tracking them. Damn it." Meschach irritably said. "Someone get some tea up here, mouth is getting dry."

A lot of mouths were getting dry. This was the last thing they needed, to be distracted, but...that was sea duty. Expect the unexpected. "You know, if there's this patrol, there might be more ships. A lot of other ships. This is the RON we are talking about. Pass this on to the Teman," he told the signals officer.

"Shouldn't we beat to quarters?" asked the Weapons officer.

Meschach considered, then said, "Not yet. Not till we hae confirmation from the Teman."

Carrier Teman

"Message from the Shrailleeni," said the signals officer in the CIC.

"Good," said Clytemnestra. She slipped on her glasses and read it quickly. Her heart leaped in her breast. She had also gotten a message from Livia Barberina, had expresed her devotion and that of the crew and the rest of the fleet. She had also advised that a Marine Infantry detachment was on its way to help protect the leadership. They would not be driven down so easily this time, and a helicopter was put at their disposal as well as a signals team.

To: Allene Triaka, Shrailleeni Head Volunteer
From: Commander Clytemnestra Hortensius
Subject: Current Affairs

---

Dear Sister,

I am very grateful for your response.I hope to hear an official one soon; we will open lines of communication towards that end as we have done with all sisterhood led nations and those friendly to the cause of women's freedom.

Your points are very well received, and I agree. I had to use forceful threats on the Governor as he is known to be a ruthless violent man, but he has conceded thus far. However I do not trust him and am deploying intelligence units to watch his base and all other operations carefully.

We have taken control of the Air Force Bae at Iphigenia; our sisters and the brothers supporting them of the Marxist cause have taken over the fixed radar array, Air Force hospital, the reserve fighter planes held there, and the Air Defense system. Colonel Toothacher, the Base Commander, is a prisoner but we have reports that as I had directed, all base personnel were treated with kindness but firmness.

We do not wish to provoke the mainland government to war. We merely want our people to be free and safe, and I will gladly turn over negotiations now to the civil government. I have no wish to rule, nor do my officers. I have spoken with Livia Barberina and recognized her as rightful Protector of the islands of Gloria Regis as elected by the people in succession to the unfortunate Nelson Smith. I will reserve myself to entirely acting as the miltiary arm of our revolution, providing defense, communications and information.

I have the honour to be
Commander Clytemnestra Hortensius

"By the way, there's a report from a frigate, the Bardiche about contact with some Ossorian planes," said the signals officer.

"Ossorian planes?" she wondered. Her eyes narrowed. "Have him find out what the hell they're doing there, what their intentions are. Maybe they're just heading north...though why would they be? What is there around here for them to do? Why would they be here? Find out!"


Sixington

Livia Barberina stood quietly a moment, watching as the Army patrols began to withdraw towards the base, under the ominous eye of Navy helicopters. Pseudonjas rumbled down the street, stony faced soldiers in them; foot patrols were picked up by trucks. People began to cheer, began to excitedly wave the provincial flag out of their windows. On the other hand she was pretty sure the Lecks would be starting to board their windows up along with the ETC followers. They'd have to be watched.

Cameras flashed as she and a rather pale Theorora Ferrovius approached one another and embraced. They agreed that they would work together as well as with any others, regardless of party, who wanted peace on the islands, and declared that Commander Hortensius would be in command of their defenses, with Julianna restored as Commandant of Militia.

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Shrailleeni Embassy,
Fineberg, New Edom

Goddess, not again, please...

Katara longed again for the not-distant days when the largest concern of her duties had been attending state affairs and arguing with Levi Dathan over the proper way to address Deadoran aggression in Dengali. By comparison to what she now faced those days were positively light-hearted and carefree. The last twenty-four hours had placed enormous pressure on the Ambassador to Shrailleen's most powerful ally, and that pressure showed no sign of alleviating now.

The embassy, like most Shrailleeni embassies, also quietly functioned as an intelligence service. The staff was in consistent contact with various Imperial volunteer centers across New Edom, with updates coming in roughly twice a day regarding status and supplies which were coordinated with the Aid office. These reports also often continued personal observations and other second-hand intelligence that allowed the Empire to form a better picture of what was going on.

For most things this system was superfluous. Everyone knew about the protests as they were happening, you could see them on television. Katara had watched with an increasing feeling of dread as the protestors heading toward Betharan Palace were violently repulsed. The methods and viciousness of the government's response reminded her of the Imperial Palace disaster, and that had pushed even the Enlightened Matriarchy toward a decidedly un-Enlightened civl war. What would it do in this nation? She didn't need an active imagination to picture it.

Reporters from Shrailleen had been present at the press conference, where the New Edomite government had promised that everything was under control and that things would not become any worse. But now she was hearing reports that the Royal Family had evacuated form Betharan by Shalumite helicopters, and that the ETC was staging protests across the nation. And no sooner had that conference taken place than Shrailleeni volunteers in Gloria Regis had failed to report in. Attempts to contact them through New Edomite channels and failed. Given the history of those islands, Katara began feeling worse and worse about what might be happening there.

When the Foreign Minister called, she answered the phone with an automatic expectation. Of course he would call now.

She began by giving him a full update on the situation, as was their custom.

"The Gloria Regis assets may be activated," he told her as soon as she had finished, without missing a beat.

"Activated?" she asked, not trusting herself to say any more.

"We entered Stage 2 a few days ago, the Mother Empress thought that it would be prudent to be prepared. If something is happening in Gloria Regis, it is possible that they would move to Stage 3. You should assume Stage 3 and begin to take he appropriate measures."

Katara's mind whirled, recalling the documents that she had read on the matter.

"Wait, Stage 3? What about Stage 4?"

"There is still some division in the Royal Court concerning the implementation of Stage 4, but at this time I believe it is a real possibility."

"By the Goddess..."

"Precisely," Zattem replied casually. "I believe that you know what to do, especially in light of these protests."

"Yes, Foreign Minister," she said numbly.

"Excellent. Go with the light of the Mother."

"And you."

She hung up the phone and let out a long sigh. No, her job was not about to become any easier.

To: Colleen Fish, Undersecretary of Defense
From: Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra
Subject: Change of Government
Encryption: Delivered in sealed package from embassy

Honorable Undersecretary,

I can scarcely understand my own reason for writing to you. Perhaps the truth is that despite our differences, a friend who is known is preferably to the face of the unknown in troubling times. Perhaps it is that I am Shrailleeni, and seek normality in the face of great change. Perhaps it is necessity. Whatever it is, I write to you now in complete confidence for a most worrisome purpose.

You spoke before of doubts regarding the future. In truth, and especially in light of recent events, I share them. Protestors put down violently by the Royal Family's forces, that same family fleeing their palace in Fineberg, reports of riots and a loss of contact with Gloria Regis. Your nobility have told me only that all is well, and that they appreciate my words, but these events give me great reason to doubt their sincerity and I am alarmed at the speed with which other allies come to their aid while they remain silent toward my own Empire. We Shrailleeni are slow to forget Honorable Undersecretary, and I fear that your nobles may be as well.

In short, I have fears regarding these events and scarce places to speak them to. In the dark I turn to you in the spirit of our long history, to ask on behalf of my nation how best we can assist our beloved allies through what seems to be an increasingly dangerous time. I pray that you will tell me that our help is not necessary, and that things are not as bleak as they seem, and that New Edom remains as one whole in the face of adversity.

With deepest respect,

Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra

[New Edom]

Obeds

Shalumite Marine Base
New Edom

Before Harper could say anything, Blanca was talking, making a rapid speech in her exotic accent, and then Camilla was weeping because Blanca was weeping, throwing her arms around her and saying, "Oh Blanca, darling, I'm so sorry your life is so hard..." and then Jocasta was weeping, and saying, "You break my heart, I don't want things to be tough, but they betrayed me...like they betrayed and murdered your family, your brother must understand, I cannot bear your grief..."

And then Rebecca was weeping and struggling with it, urging her girls to be brave, and then Countess Jabbok was weeping too, and even Major Livy Anselm shed a tear or two, envying Jocasta desperately the love that she had and was barely aware of, and Count Jeroboam looked at Dr. Aphek and muttered, "Jesus Christ almighty."

"Maybe we should get the ladies inside somewhere," said Colonel Josephus.

"And Papa, where is Papa? Oh my gosh, I'm sure they've tried to hurt Papa and Mama, oh Jack you must find out..." wailed Camilla.

"God..." said Jeroboam between clenched teeth.

Padan-Aran

Who is this now? wondered Enoch. "Oh..." he picked up the phone. "Hello Des. I miss you very much, I'm sorry, I've been caught up with Mara's crisis and..." he felt a wave of guilt about it. Desiree was devoted, good to him. He felt terrible for not lovign her. He messed everything up.

"Listen...I'm sorry about not being the best husband. You are the mother of my child, you are good to me. I've been very distracted lately, and now there's another crisis. Including some confusion about who gets to appoint who and all that. But Elijah is here, he is going to do his best to smooth things over." he looked up and said, "Just a moment, Mara is here."

Mara took the phone and said, "Desiree, sweetheart, I hope you are well. Can you pleae thank Max so much for his letter? I think he's absolutely right. I...I'm not well...but your family's support means so much to me." she listened to Desiree's reply, then assured her of her love and affection, then gave the phone back to Enoch.

it was weird, but he felt almost like he'd rather be on the deck of a ship getting pummeled with harpoon missiles than have the rest of this conversatino...

[New Othman]

In a small office officially marked as "Standard Chai Distributors", a rather tall and easily annoyed Othmani man sat dressed in a civilian, three piece suit that ill-suited him. This mess in New Edom threatened everything that the CPO was trying to do, and thus threatened the Treaty of Beaulieu, threatened the chances of peace in the long-term, and all but insured the restoration of a revanchist government unless it got back under control and soon. Well, maybe that was going to happen, anyway, but for now, General Colonel Recep Borek had business to handle.

Volunteers...yes, that was a fancy term for demobilized conscripts being loaned out as mercs by "friends" of the Ursula Weiler-Kotuk regime. Not that Borek had much use for Ursula in the long-term, but she could be brought down by other means. His own intentions were to get out of the Treaty's disarmament provisions by some duplicity without restoring a truly Fascist regime at all, and in the meantime guarantee the preservation of order. He would have to play it carefully, however. He could not be the face of the regime, not yet. He would have to emerge as the first among equals gradually, and leverage his way back into power. The Committee was rushed out of power too fast for his liking, due to the turn of events, but he had a "committee" of his own inside the cabinet, and they were already moving things along.

In the meantime, it would help greatly to have Ursula and his side, and on the side of the Free Congress faction of New Edom. If there was anything that Borek despised more than religious zealots and Fascists, it was Monarchists.....monarchy had never been good for New Othman. No reason to support it here and now. He didn't like or trust the ETC, but that was a matter for another time. First the Monarchy had to be prevented from regaining power. The Free Congress needed a separate power base not beholden to the ETC, one that would allow it to act on some of its nobler ideas as well.

True, the Compulsory Nudity Act and Morality Act were stupid, but even so, the Monarchy was nothing but pampered princes with no credentials but their blood to offer a nation. New Othman's own experience made that an undesirable regime to work with in the future. Royals were always mercurial, after all. Back you one minute, stab you the next. No, Borek had plans and for now, they involved this dummy company, "Standard Chai Distributors".

Nervously, as he was in some ways committing what could be construed as a separate foreign policy than the officially neutral and silent one so far, keeping their heads low, Borek sent out a telegram from an old-fashioned telegraph device.

FROM STANDARD CHAI DISTRIBUTORS TO THE NECROMANCER. STOP. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME CHAI? STOP. IF SO, FINE OTHMANI CHAI CAN BE YOURS FOR A PRICE. IT CAN HELP THE GRIFFON STAY IN SHAPE. STOP. YOUR MINT TEA IS GOOD, BUT A CERTAIN VIRGIN FROM A GIRLS' SCHOOL SEEMS TO BE MUDDYING THE WATER FOR IT. STOP. DO WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER? STOP. RECEP BOREK. STOP. YES, THAT RECEP BOREK. STOP.

[Ghant]

Shalumite Marine Base
New Edom

It had been some time since Prince Michael of Dakmoor had ridden in a helicopter…in fact, he wasn’t even sure when the last time was. Yet, there was, in a helicopter departing Betharan Palace for the Shalumite Marine Base. This one seemed bumpier than last he recalled, but it was what it was. Shalumites… A feeling of apathy at best there.

He remembered when his sister Sophia was in a relationship with High Prince Matthew…and how vehemently his father opposed the match, and like anything Malibar didn’t want, it ended, almost as quickly as an insect squashed underfoot. That, and he heart plenty of stories. Stories about Princess Caroline and Princess Rosalina…without a doubt these soured Malibar’s opinions, regardless of the fact that both were Gentry Princesses. And Gentries invite trouble unto themselves quite regularly. And the way that they all looked at Jocasta, Michael determined to stay close to her.

Looking out of the helicopter, he took note of how small Fineberg had become. The base entered his sight and grew. There was plenty of Shalumite flair to be seen at the base, and plenty of military…things. People seemed to be preparing for action. Then they flew towards the airfield at the base, subsequently landing upon a landing strip.

"Ramirez, Fleischmann, get the doors open." Major Jean-Paul barked out, and they opened the doors of the helicopter to let the occupants out. Michael climbed out and jumped down on his own, and made himself available to help the others get out as well.

That was when a few vehicles pulled up…land rovers. Michael identified one of the men that got out as General Jack Harper…the current persona non grata among the Gentries of late. If what his cousin Lord Hyan of House Gon had told him was true (Hyan was known to be something of an exaggerator), then this was the man that had dartboards fashioned in the likeness of his face, a name you couldn’t say without one of them spitting, and, Mike’s personal favorite tall tale, that the name “Harper” had become synonymous with “Betrayal.” Of course, Mike really didn’t believe that the Gentries were that petty and vindictive, and was more inclined to believe that Hyan was just blowing smoke up his ass. I certainly wouldn’t put it past the Gentries though…

In any case, the seasoned General was dressed in fatigues. He looked at Lady Sharra, and like any good Ghantar, the thought of a man as old as he married to a woman as young as she made him cringe. "Is everyone here alright? We've been getting mixed reports about the situation on the ground." The General stated as he came to a stop beside his wife.

Michael listened as Jocasta and Blanca spoke, and then he spoke. “Yes, General, thank you for asking, and it is good to see you again. Her Highness has the gist of it, as far as I have been able to observe.” The Dakmaran Prince looked around. “I certainly appreciate your commitment to the monarchy. My sister can…provide assistance as well if called upon.”

Before long, Blanca, Camilla, Jocasta and Rebecca were crying. Even Livy shed a tear.

Michael tried to reassure them with some deft shoulder rubs. “The situation is sad, yes. Dire, it also is. But there will be a time for sorrow, my ladies. We must regroup and retake control of the situation. Remember, the monarchy has many friends. Shalum, Cacerta, Ghant. We must do what is necessary in the name of New Edom. Perrin is no longer here to do that…it falls on us now. There are people that depend upon what we do...so we must act accordingly for their sakes.”

[New Edom]

Silver River Air Force Base

"Sir, you are expected," said the clerk, standing up politely. "Please go right in."

In the briefing room, the main focus was on General Unwerth himself, Colonel Abishai Hagar of the 18th Light Troops, Colonel Taramemnon, the Air Force Base commander, and Colonels Estrada and de Haren, Unwerth's operations and intelligence commanders.

"Welcome" said Unwerth, looking at the Hutanjian warmly with his direct gaze. "Good to see you. Please take coffee or tea. We'll begin now."he nodded to de Haren, who dimmed the lights a little to bring up images on a projection screen,

"The press conference was a lot of balls. Basically large mobs of protestors were surrounding Betharan Palace in Fineberg. They were specifically protesting and refusing to accept the Heir's appointments to the temporary cabinet, demanding immediate elections--which is not even physically possible. They also surrounded Victory square and the Cathedral of the Martyrs. They had to be dispersed by the Cavalry Guards as the Chiefs of Staff and the Military District's officers refused to obey orders to clear the streets. There are strikes happening led by the End Times Church in several major cities in the country. The Royal Family at Betharan--the Heir among them--had to flee with the assistance of Shalumite Marines from the nearby base. Our intel in the area reports that the Shalumites are on full alert there. Right now the Cavalry Guards, which is two squadrons of mechanized infantry, hold the Palace and the streets leading up to it in a general four block radius. The squadron on the street is mostly armed with riot gear, APCs with water cannons, rubber bullets, tear gas. The 2nd Squadron however is according to their colonel preparing for a general assault as they sighted armed militias approaching them. There is a standoff. Crowds in the thousands are beyond their control zone. Loyal forces have no air assets, no air defense beyond MANPADs."

"Right now, we cannot get hold of General Hesperinus at Gloria Regis at all, and we need troops along the Deadoran border where they are, we also must keep the 12th MD and Etrurian Legion forces up north where they are to act as a reserve in case the Deadorans try anything," Estrada broke in. "We suspect some serious foul play in Gloria Regis, general communication blackout there. SATCOM reports that elements fo the fleet that were in harbour have moved farther out to sea, and there are reports of Ossorian naval forces approaching the EEZ. Finally, the Council Police are divided--General Ashdod, the acting commander, is apparently with the appointed Minister of Defense, Vice-Admiral Prince Elijah Shalmaneser at Padan-Aran. The Defense Minister wants to sort things out..."

"But we have to leave that to His Royal Highness," said Unwerth. "Thank you gentlemen. The Heir has requested that I take command of all military forces under the Minister's authority. So I am going to send the 18th Light Troops to take control of the Military District. I would like to ask the Hutanjian Combat Team, Colonel, to join with them, and take control of the roads leading from the airport to the Military District. If we can link up with the Cavalry Guards, that would be great, but I am going to request that the Shalumites reinforce them instead."

"And we will jam signals on the Air Force units attached there, and provide air support in the form of air superiority fighters and VTOL multi-role fighters for ground support if need be," said Colonel Taramemnon coldly. He was a balding short officer, compact and neat, with the cold clear gaze of a man who was used to making clipped clear decisions. He had once had to flee his barracks under Vici Minervan unexpected bombing that had reduced this base to rubble. In the years since, he had become determined to never be caught unawares again.

He looked at Hudagku. "I realize, Colonel, that you are not obligated to directly support this legally. However generally you are an allied officer, and our country is in crisis. If you have to contact your ambassador or government I understand and there is no dishonour. If you can help, I would be grateful. Your duty would be to establish that zone of control. The rules of engagement would be simple: you would be proclaimed to be there in the name of the lawful government; you would be authorized to use lethal force if opposed by it."