Winds of Change ~ IC

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Imperial Palace
Kingdom of Frankenlisch
Doctor Robinson's Office

"The King awoke crying this morning..." Queen Jane explained, "He has been struck with night terrors before and awoken sweaty and breathing heavily. But nothing like this morning."

Doctor Robinson did not seem entirely convinced, his left eyebrow, waxed and black as night, was raised in a cynical curve. "Could Your Majesty explain in greater detail the situation you found the King in?"

Jane seemed to sniff and fidget uncomfortably as if caught out lying, she pushed wavy chestnut hair out of the way of her eyes and continued, "Yes doctor..." She affirmed. "I awoke around seven this morning and went into my sitting room intending to read some of my book. I had been reading for several minutes when I heard a noise coming from our bedchamber."

Doctor Robinson pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose and nodded at the Queen to continue, he scribbled notes in a leatherbound notebook. "Continue..."

"It sounded like my husband was shivering as if he were intensely cold, so I decided to check on him." Jane wiped the beginning of tears from her eyes, "His Imperial Majesty was in a state of undress, sobbing incomprehensively and laying face down upon our floor. In his left hand he clutched the corner of the duvet which he had pulled from the bed and in his right there was something metal which I couldn't make out."

"Obviously you rushed to attend to His Majesty?" Doctor Robinson made the question sound threateningly like a statement.

"I wish I could say I did..." Jane replied, wiping another tear away before it could trickle down her cheek. "I froze. I don't know what happened, I saw His Majesty in this state and I couldn't move nor speak. It took me a full minute to ring for a maid to help me."

"What of His Majesty's valet?" Robinson asked, inquisitively, "Surely Walkins would have been more suited to the task."

"I don't like Walkins, anyway, I didn't think he should be trusted to see the King in such a way. I was lucky enough to be met by one of my handmaidens who helped me with the King."

"In what way?" Robinson was still scratching away at his notepad, Jane wondered what she could have said to make him write so much, perhaps it was just how he did things.

"I covered him with a blanket and brought him his dressing-gown and smoking hat. After some time he accepted that he must dress somewhat and put both garments on. Alicia poured him some brandy and went to find his cigar box while I rubbed his back to comfort him."

"The King smoked and drank following this episode?" Robinson didn't seem surprised but asked all the same.

"He smoked a cut Prodavan cigar and made his way through three glasses of Hardskar Brandy. Alicia brought him whiskey also but he did not take to it, for some reason. I left him for a time to have a bath and by the time I was out he was dressed and seemed relatively normal."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Robinson said, finalising the conversation, "You've been most helpful."

Council Chamber

"Your Majesty seems quite distracted this morning," Lord Eldham noted, looking towards King James, "Was there something on your mind, sire?"

The King looked up, slowly, he seemed tired and looked both depressed and confused at the same time. He rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair. "I was... Thinking." He said, lowly, depressing his head again.

"Your Majesty?" Asked Eldham.

"I was thinking on my father..." James murmured.

The whole room shuffled uneasily and Eldham immediately fell silent, whether he was unsure how to reply or simply mourning the late Duke George was anyone's guess. James suddenly lifted his head up looked over the room with tired, red eyes.

"I had a dream, you see..." The King explained, "And he was alive, standing before me. He smiled and opened his mouth to speak," James began to sniffle and tears appeared in his wide yet sunken eyes. "I didn't even hear his voice!" He cried out in a shout of anger and sadness, banging his fist down on the wooden table and making the assembled lords and ministers jump in their seats. A messenger walked in seconds after and handed a note to the Duke of Lancaster who was silently watching the King sob into his sleeve.

"Thank you," Lancaster muttered, "And send word for Doctor Robinson. The King is in tears."

Lord Eldham tried to comfort the King, he lightly moved over and, with a great degree of nervousness, gently moved him so that he was sitting back in his chair rather than leaning on the table. "Sire..." He said warmly, "All is well, sire. Would you like to leave it there?"

The King looked up at Eldham and looked ready to explode, Edham backed off and the King seemed to calm down. "I saw..." He continued, "I saw... He was going to speak and I thought for a moment that I might hear his voice." He looked behind him and noticed that Doctor Robinson had entered the room and was silently taking notes. "He was suddenly impaled from behind, I didn't see by who. But I saw the head of the weapon clear as day sticking out of his chest..." Tears were still making their way down the King's cheeks but he didn't acknowledge them.

Duke Lancaster read the note and leaned over to Lord Quessex, "The Muslims in Jallotta are getting uppity," He whispered, "We could see a full uprising..."

"Better not tell the King..." Quessex replied.

"It... It..." James was mumbling by now and it took some time for him to get the words out. "It was a lance. A golden lance. And the head was a crescent moon"

Doctor Robinson had seen quite enough, "My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen..." He said, "The King is not well. Please excuse him." There was no argument, nothing else to be said, the nobles and ministers stood respectfully and sighed when the King had finally been led away by Robinson.

St Gall Colony
Saint Gall

The Vionna-Frankenlischian Colony of Saint Gall was uncharacteristically beautiful for the time of year, for once the rain and harsh winds had let up in return for sun and clear skies. The population, numbering a total of 82,000, were going about daily business and tourists flittered about the island patronising the colony's shops, museums, hotels, restaurants and any number of other attractions. Office towers and residential blocks towered high above the ground like great spears pointed towards the sky. The relative economic stability of the colony was clear to see from the clean streets, lavish buildings and general quality of the surroundings. God, people living there were happy they were so lucky compared to the poor Uraticans across the border, but people didn't like to think about them, somehow the presence of such a backwater, aggressive state right next door seemed to depress people's mood somewhat.

It was a Monday so many of the island's population were working, whether it be in office cubicles, on building sites, blasting away with dynamite in the colony's pit mine or researching drone technology at St Gall Technical College. Or, they could be working differently as those of the St Gall Squadron of the Imperial Air Service were doing, swooping over the island in their Tenfield Mark XI Interceptors. A Hellspawn Air-to-Air missile safely fastened to each wing and the barrel of a 20mm autocannon protruding from the aircraft's nose like an ugly wart. The squadron numbered eighteen and they shared their base with several civilian airliners and a second squadron of twelve Striker Mk IVs, aircraft labelled as multirole but almost always delegated to a kind of ground attack role.

Or they could be working in another way entirely, crewing HMNS Oedipus as sailors, officers or marines. Oedipus was a Van Davinoff class Cruiser, the lead ship of the St Gall Naval Station, not a particularly great feat considering the station consisted of only five ships and a few platoons of Naval Infantry. D-28 and D-29, a pair of St Duncan class Destroyers made up the bulk of the station, a Hadrian Class frigate, the lead ship of its class, in fact and thus named HMNS Hadrian. HMNS Lindow was the last vessel of the St Gall Naval Station, a Berxley Class minesweeper that was completely useless for actual minesweeping but made a good support ship for small operations.

There was another way people could be employed. The St Gall Defence Forces numbered 10,500 men and 300 vehicles of several different kinds. 5,000 of these men were locals, volunteers organised into a Territorial Army Brigade and entrusted with only simple vehicles, these men were part-time, men who trained on the weekends and worked on the weekdays, that is not to say that they weren't proficient, they were driven, well equipped, led competently and trained frequently. Just under 5,000 men were professionals, still some local men but mostly full-time soldiers from the mainland, well trained and equipped generously. The remainder of the island's ground forces were commanded by Major Richard Anson and numbered only six hundred, however, that came with sixty M4 Romulus Main Battle Tanks. The Royal Gallic Tank Battalion had been deployed over two years ago and had originally been named the Third Independent Tank Battalion until it was decided Urat was a threat and one that could be countered with a single battalion of tanks.

The people of Saint Gall Colony were economically sound, happy, prosperous and protected. All eyes nervously point to Urat, good things cannot last forever...

[New Edom]

Saint Gall Colony

Ruth and Gabriel were two of about a dozen Edomites studying at the St Gall Technical College on a scholarship program available to allied nations. With drone technology on the rise, it had been planned that students should go to nations that had superior engineering education to learn more so that New Edom would not be entirely dependent on foreigners for this vital form of defense, research and security tech.

Ruth always sat up front near the window. She was extremely quiet and never talked unless called upon. During class she habitually stared at the world outside, but it was clear that she was paying attention to the lecture, because she always did know what to say if she was asked a question. There was no question she was a very strange girl, because she fidgeted whenever someone talked to her and never looked a person in the eye during a conversation. Another strange thing about her was her clothing, because she wore so little of it. A pair of old tennis shoes, loose running shorts, and a t-shirt normally were the only things Ruth put on in the morning. When she sat down and the thin cloth of her t-shirt pressed against her body, it was clear that she was not wearing anything underneath. About once a week she wore even less, a pair of flip-flops and a flimsy dress that was totally open in the back clear down to her waist. She wore no jewelry and no make-up. Her black hair was short, which was good for her because usually it was not combed.

Gabriel seemed more deliberately political. He was a nice looking young man, deceptively frail looking, but was in fact very wiry with excellent endurance, just not bulky and powerful looking. He enjoyed cycling and rode his bike everywhere. He had a mop of dark brown hair and wore glasses for reading. Often he had political slogan T-shirts on, and considered himself something of a freethinker. He was very much an advocate of environmentalist causes and liberation of women in defiance of the social norms of his family background, but did not shove it in anyone's face; it was almost like the t-shirts and buttons he wore and online conversations he got into were a way of blowing off steam, for he worked diligently at studying robotics. He had the patience, as did Ruth it seemed, to work on electrical engineering schematics and experimentation with great patience and interest.

The semester progressed as Gabriel and Ruth pursued their lives. They both fretted about their classes and their finances, had unpleasant moments with their respective roommates, and worked on term papers.

Ruth, in spite of her shyness, managed to get a job at the in the Student Center at the coffee shop. Starting the last week of September, she worked from 5:00 am until 11:00 am, taking responsibility for the initial cash count, setting up the equipment for the day, receiving food orders, and opening for business at 7:00. Two co-workers showed up at 7:00, but during the first two hours of each morning Ruth usually worked alone, which she preferred. She took advantage of the solitude to listen to her favorite news show on Public Radio as she set up. When the newspapers arrived, she took a break to go through them. By the time she actually started serving coffee, Ruth had thoroughly informed herself about what had happened in the world the day before.

Gabriel frequently bought coffee at the store before going to class, which meant seeing Ruth running about in a blue apron worn over her abbreviated clothing. For some reason he felt that she looked sexy in that apron, especially on the days she wore her backless dress. With her bare back it was easy to imagine Ruthie wearing the apron with nothing underneath.

There was a small Edomite student society on the campus, which mostly helped people deal with the consulate to get phone cards or resources from home deal with financial and transport issues, and now and then celebrate holidays. An outgoing basketball player and student from University of Fineberg with a bachelor's degree in engineering was the president, named Jeremiah Pashur who had played for that university as well, a tall young man with huge hands and a friendly manner. He had clippings from the Trofeo de Paz championship on his wall in his room, and was ETC. What this meant for practical purposes was that his prayers had a lot of enthusiasm in them, he loved singing hymns, and was very unselfconscious about his body in his dorm and in a locker to a degree more than most athletes. For example Gabriel had had a conversation with him where Jeremiah had not even bothered to put a stitch on, but Jeremiah had been very hospitable, offering him mint and honey tea and cinnamon biscuits. He was a decent fellow, the son of a bureaucrat from Hillel.

Generally, the Edomite students were polite and hard working; they knew that a lot of money had gone into sending them abroad to learn drone technology and their families' honour depended on them doing well. Most were the children of academics, bureaucrats and military families. They were part of the wave of the future, a diaspora of students sent to allied nations around the world.

---

The Consulate

Aaron Nemgadi, the consul, had a small staff whose duties were mostly about arranging visas, travel and housing for students as well as dealing with tourists and visiting academics. Vionna-Frankenlischan-Edomite relations had formerly been cool and remote, but with the two nations being involved in the Imperion Alliance, cultural and economic exchange had begun. Work was being done on an officer exchange program, but more of that was focused on the Commoner Empire and Shalum than here, all in good time.

Aaron himself was interested in bird watching, and the island had interesting seafowl and land fowl, particularly a species of finch and hawk whose behaviours showed island evolutionary traits that he liked to talk with local wildlife experts about.

He came from an urban family of minor aristocracy, nothing too fancy but enough that they went to good schools, got degrees and generally went into academia, the diplomatic service of civil service following a brief stint in the military. In Aaron's case this had been in the Air Force, where he had gotten a degree in meteorology and had spent a chilly, interesting time stationed at Durkland Combined Arms Base on the shores of Magna Lacuna. It was not unusual for such a man as he to not be married yet, but at 33 he had better start taking suggestions from his family seriously. His family head, a linguistics professor at University of Fineberg, had recently sent him a letter advising a couple of prospective brides.

In an effort to promote the alliance, Aaron or his subordinates often attended local affairs of the Vionna-Frankenlischan military if they could--sports events, balls, parades and so on--and he was a contributor to funds for soldiers and their families where possible. Besides, he loved watching the young healthy bodies of men and women playing sports outside. He had tried to tell himself that his inability to distinguish between his natural love of women and his unnatural love of men was just aesthetics, but deep down he knew differently and was glad he was living in a small place where perversion would be noticed. It kept him on the straight and narrow.

An elegant, well built man, well toned from tennis and hiking around the beaches looking for bird nests, with dark short neat hair and a nice olive tan and dark eyes, he was in many circles a good dinner companion and tennis partner. All he wanted was for his post to go smoothly and be recommended for another to someplace nice--Tericio, for instance--end a career as an ambassador, write some books on ornithology, and retire to a beach house where an understanding woman and he would live with some handsome houseboys...

Simonides, the deputy consul, was in his office, smoking a dark pipe and looking over some contracts when Aaron leaned in. Simonides was prematurely balding though he was actually younger than his boss, and was pudgier as well, making him look middle aged.

"Oh, hello," said Simonides. "Out in search of Aves, are you?"

"I am, as I said before," said Aaron. "Hold the fort?"

"Right you are, boss man," replied Simonides.

Aaron hoped he would run into the young tourist he had met a couple of days ago.

Tourists

Aaron Nemgadi was not the only person who thought that Noah Kalan was an angel. With a flawlessly handsome face, a beatific, innocent smile and rich dark curls haloing his head, and a perfectly formed, somewhat diminutive body, he was frequently described as angelic. The high tenor voice he graced Nass Polytechnic's Chamber Choir was angelic. His inspired artwork on theater backdrops for the conservatory's theater program was considered to be inspired by heaven. He even stood out as a graceful angel in his dance classes.

However Noah was oblivious to this. He was one of those quiet calm little men who live in a world of their own but are nevertheless friendly to a select group of people. In this case, he and a group of other tourists, including Edomites, were exploring the downs, and he was listening gravely to the local guide who was explaining that it was surprisingly how easily a person could get lost around such an area as these grassy lonely downs with few distinct landmarks. People had, apparently, got lost even a few dozen meters from the beach just by constantly going around in circles.

Noah had joined this group because a cruise ship had dropped them off, and was due back in a few days. Naomi and Rebecca were graduate students, and were into ecology. They weren't fanatics about it, but they enjoyed nature, liked going camping and enjoyed hiking. They were both young, being in their early twenties, and quite fit. They both wore hair in bobs, and he had asked them politely if they belonged to the Intellectual Party, and they had said yes they did. One had a Dutch Boy style cut, the other a softer rounded bob.

"What party do you belong to?" Naomi had asked.

"National Wisdom," he admitted shyly. "I guess I love traditions. I'm a Choirmaster, actually, and I'm just taking a holiday. I start a job soon in Nass at Saint Bartholemew's--that's the Academy for Young Gentlemen there."

The idea was for this group of about twenty people or so to trek along this bird sanctuary for a while before they would reach a hostel and eatery area and relax there, then take a bus back into town.

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
St Gall Technical College

Eric's eyes were drawn towards Ruth, an Edomite on a scholarship program that had brought her to the island, she wore loose fitting clothes that would suggest promiscuity, an impression only amplified by her lack of underclothes, but she was actually quite awkward and oddly shy. Sitting down at her desk and with the cool breeze coming through the window her nipples could clearly be seen. A sight both exciting and off-putting to Eric who sat, distracted, while Professor Hamilton droned on next to him. Eric wasn't a pervert, obviously, he was as far as anyone could tell, just a normal guy. He was like a background extra, just sitting in the background being generic in a pair of blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a red hoodie, all of which he purchased from the Inkman's in the local shopping mall. His hair was auburn and neatly arranged into a stylish side-parting and his face was clean shaven. Eric had lived on St Gall his whole life, in fact, as he understood it, his family could be traced all the way back to the original colonists but had accomplished nothing of particular note in the proceeding three centuries.

His friend, William Dawes, or 'Lanky' Bill as he was more affectionately known by friends, was a strapping young gentleman from Cunaris with a refined air and a disorganised mop of blond hair. He was tall, as his epithet would suggest, six foot three, in fact, and taller than everyone else in his class and towering above old Professor Hamilton. He was fairly handsome and dressed neatly in shirts, waistcoats and dress trousers, usually with black leather Oxfords. He was a remarkable listener and excellent notetaker and enjoyed Professor Hamilton's lectures, he was a theoretical genius. When it came to practicality, however, he was altogether unimpressive which was not entirely helpful considering the assignment, to build a drone with the ability to perform a specific task as efficiently as possible. His infinite wisdom when it came to Physics was always welcome though and his group respected if not entirely enjoyed him.

"And with that over and done with..." Professor Hamilton concluded, "I'll let you all continue with what you're working on. Remember, each student will get a percentage of the prize if we win, so do your absolute best and don't be afraid to come to me." He smiled warmly, pushed back strands of his wiry grey hair and sat back in his great leather office chair. A swig of cold tea went down along with a pair of chocolate biscuits and soon enough he was asleep, the collar of his oversized labcoat concealing part of his face. Nobody noticed, and even if they had, nobody would have cared. They had accepted by now that, even though he was a veritable genius, Hamilton was still an old man, his seventieth birthday was a few weeks coming and he only had a few years left until he was supposed to retire for good. His students had their eye on the prize, anyway, a coalition of Gallians, mainlanders, Edomites, Shalumites and a few Germanans all working together to create their drone, designed as a multipurpose machine for recording video footage and transporting light cargo. The grand prize for the competition was a princely sum of 20,000 Lucans, direct from the Education Ministry's surplus funding. Heads down, tools out, pen to paper, everyone was at work, everything was fine.

[New Edom]

Saint Gall Colony
St Gall Technical College

Gabriel had had an idea for a drone that he was hoping others in his project group would go for. Essentially, it was a combined dirigible tilt-rotor which would be able to deliver larger cargos than most drones its size or even most planes, and could therefore be used to reach out of the way locations or places with smaller landing strips.

Gabriel was quite willing to argue about this, since he wanted to have a career in Drone Engineering when he got back home, make his fortune and fame in a field so new to his people. What he wanted too was to get people on board now, get the right people to do the on board software designs, brushless motor, while he focused on aerodynamics and flight design. Ruth was skeptical and pointed out that application might be a better way to go.

"Why play it safe?' he argued. "You want to do some quad-rotor like everyone else? Think outside the box, Ruthie."

"Don't call me Ruthie," she said unexpectedly sharply for such a quiet person. "I'm happy enough with tilt-rotor, but this dirigible idea...I'm dubious about that, why would something so unprofitable be a big catch to people? Let's make it a tilt-rotor plane design like..."

"Like the Osprey?" he said, stung by her criticisms but hiding it in sarcasm. He did his best to convince others to follow his novel idea and Ruth lapsed back into her usual silence, apparently content to help with aerodynamic design software and avionics anyway.

Ruth got up to look outside and make sure some fresh air got in. She was,she realized, less mad at Gabriel and more desperately homesick, yearning for familiar sights and smells for her family and friends she had grown up with. The late afternoon sunlight shined through her dress and made the cloth almost transparent, the shadow of her body illuminated briefly by the light. Though it was subtle, a hint of flesh tone around her hips and bottom suggested she might not be wearing any panties, but the glimpses were brief and it was hard for anyone looking to be absolutely sure. It was not clear to anyone if she was aware of the extent to which her body was visible under that thin cloth.

Gabriel frowned and looked down at a schematic again. Damned ETC, they gave the whole country a bad name. of all the kinds of people to be stuck with...she was pretty though, even if she was a weirdo and probably a religious fanatic...

[Shalum]

Saint Gall Colony
Technical College

Up in the front row, a few seats to the left of the tan girl who always got the seat closest to the window, Joshua Schaeffer glanced up from the chicken scratch that covered his dollar store notebook long enough to give Hamilton a nod of respect and thanks for all of the wisdoms that he’d imparted over the last two hours; for being as old as he was, the professor was still sharp as a tack. The Shalumite had liked him from day one; it was nice to have someone who presented an actual challenge to them, rather than droning on for an ungodly amount of time before assigning homework on topics that they hadn’t even covered in class.

Sliding his seat back from the long, rectangular desk, Joshua couldn’t help but sigh silently in relief as he stretched out his legs and rolled his taut shoulders. If anyone cared to pay close attention, they would have noticed that he was never quite comfortable in class. His demeanor was certainly friendly, and he was nothing short of attententive (poor handwriting aside), but whoever had designed the classroom had expected the attendees to be a few inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter.

The professor aside, Joshua was probably one of the older people in the room. Like many of his fellow countrymen, the military had come calling on his eighteenth birthday; his grades had been good, but not enough so to qualify him for a higher education exemption that thousands of students vied for at the end of every spring semester. Three months of boot camp had turned him from a whipcord thin track and field runner into a muscled infantrymen, and then six more months of advanced training had imbued him with the very interests that the technical college specialized in. The Shalumite Army had come to love kamikaze drones that could be carried in backpacks, and they had trained him in how to operate and maintain them.

Needless to say, Joshua had been all too eager to sign up for the competition. If there was one thing that he missed about the military, it was the brotherhood. He was an only child, and his parents had been too busy working to be around in his younger years; the military had given him to chance to bond with so many people that he wouldn’t have met otherwise. Of course, he still talked to a lot of them on his laptop back in his dorm, but it wasn’t the same thing as actual human interaction.

When their class got together to work on the project, though, all of his nerves seemed to just fade away. Taking the many things he’d learned from his training in the army, he’d been drawn up a couple different concepts for their new drone - getting an idea of what it looked like was often the first step in any design; along with each of the drawings were various technical details and proposals. His weakness when it came to the project was that he was still working with limited knowledge. When it came to drones of this size, he was a lot better at crashing or repairing them, rather than actually making one from scratch.

As Joshua stood up, trying not to look at Ruth’s display with too much interest (despite the fact that he very much approved), there was another Shalumite in the back row who was getting her things together as well. Seline Voit, the daughter of a no-name baron from northern Shalum, pursed her lips and glanced back to the front of the room where it looked as if their professor was settling in for a nap. She had been so busy worrying over her latest physics assignment (a class that she was barely passing, and always behind in) that she’d only been able to pay so much attention.

Running a hand through her hair, she took a moment to simply lean back in her seat, thankful that she’d remembered to apply concealer before coming to class - otherwise, it would have looked like she’d gotten into a fight. At barely eighteen years old, she was feeling the effects of the transitionary period that her parents of warned her of weeks before she’d transferred to the new college. Back home, she’d always been the top of her class, something that she’d been hoping to carry on to this new environment as well. It was easier said than done, though; the workload was more, and she didn’t have the constant pressure that her teachers back in highschool had provided.

All in all, she didn’t regret choosing to spend the next four years here at in Saint Gall. It was a lovely island, and the people were wonderful; it helped that there were a few other Shalumites at the college, though she didn’t share many classes with the ones that she’d made friends with. She had been hoping to branch out, especially to the Pashur guy in her engineering class (a bit religious for her tastes, but she could stomach it for anyone who had a body like his) or to Dawes (who would she would be happy to accomodate if he would just help her with this damn physics work), but it was all easier said than done with everything else in her life that she was trying to juggle.

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
Government House

The governing body of Saint Gall Colony sat in their polished oak chairs all prepared for the council meeting. There was one problem though, the large screen mounted at the head of the table was dark. Confused, annoyed, even worried, the room sat in sullen silence waiting. Sitting at the opposite end to the huge television screen was Major General Sir Alex MacAllen, commander of all Imperial forces on the island and the King's representative, he shifted uncomfortably. The represented party was absent.

"The King has taken ill..." A voice blasted through the television's speakers like a shaped charge, temporarily deafening those present. Before the voice could speak again, Major Richard Anson, the commander of the island's single tank battalion ordered it to "Turn down the catchment volume on the microphone!"

"Ah..." The voice replied, doing as the Major asked, "As I have said, the King has taken ill and will thus be unable to join you as usual. He is rather unwell and his busy hours are occupied elsewhere, there is unrest in Jallotta..."

"There is unrest here!" MacAllen snapped, his whiskers bristling, "There is unrest everywhere! Is the King so ill that he cannot lend us his voice?"

"I am the King's physician." Doctor Robinson replied, his face finally appearing on the screen, "I have advised rest and less stress, the King is taking far too much responsibility and control, he is too stressed and is sleeping badly. I'm afraid you'll have to do without him."

There was no time to respond, the connection was cut and seconds later the screen shut off. "Bastard..." Gerald Waters, the island's service councillor, mused.

"You know," Doctor Hannah Upson, the Imperial Consul on St Gall and former Ambassador to Ozena, commented, "I heard he was a member of the Republican Party before becoming His Majesty's Doctor."

"I don't like this, we all know some kind of confrontation with Urat is coming?" MacAllen asked. Nobody replied. Everyone nodded. "The King is distracted by events in Jallotta and that doctor of his is keeping him docile. We're going to have to make preperations on our own. I will be convening an emergency meeting of the St Gall Defence Council tomorrow, I want everybody present there. Doctor Upson, you will make sure that the diplomatic representatives of any states allied to us are also present."

"Yes, sir." Upson replied, Is it to be understood that no information nor plans are to reach His Imperial Majesty's Government back home?"

"Quite so, Doctor." MacAllen was unusually serious for such a jovial old chap, "We can't allow any interference from back home to bugger this up. I want a communication asking for reinforcements and nothing else. Thank you ladies and gentlemen, you may be excused."

[New Edom]

Tourists

Noah Kalan lay on his stomach with his binoculars out. To the uninitiated it looked like fluttering chaos, small feathery creatures, twittering and cheeping. They jumped back and forth, with unbelievable dexterity flitting among branches. The little creatures zipped between the branches, could dodge among tall grasses, perching lightly, and dodging one another easily.

"Oh look, there are three different species there," exclaimed Naomi. "See the little green ones?"

"I think those are Tiaris," mused Noah, who was startled to realize how close she and Rebecca had moved up to him.

"Here we go, Tiaris," said Naomi. "Wow, they have a subtle beauty to them."

"What I find really interesting is how complex these little bird societies are," said Rebecca.

"I love how they can so agilely use their tongues and beaks, I can't even imagine eating seeds without hands..." said Noah, whose shyness was being overcome by the young women's shared enthusiasm. He found out that hey were doing a graduate project but were also enjoying a vacation here.

---

Aaron Nemgadi was relaxing at a cafe, drinking an iced coffee and reading a local newspaper, though he also had some papers from his home country and region there. The latest things banned in Gavinium Magnus amused him, the acts of a tyrant obsessed with his own thoughts apparently: The Public Morals and Decorum Law, which bans all fish and cross tattoos, all lip, nose, and cheek piercings, hip-hugging jeans, full-length skirts or dresses, neckties, bow ties, nun or novice habits by anyone not actually enrolled in convents, Christian clerical collars and cassocks by anyone not actually a member of Christian clergy, yarmulkes by anyone not actually Jewish, Muslim headgear by anyone not actually Muslim, hijabs or burqas by anyone, rap music, underwear beneath baggy pants (but not baggy pants themselves), poor medical, physical, and dental hygiene, one-piece bathing suits, failure to wipe down gym equipment after use, political T-shirts, and the use of any online avatars celebrating feminism, Leenic faiths, Christianity, Islam, Magism, or organized crime.

Shaking his head with sad amusement, he wondered if anyone would do anything about it. As far as he knew, his government was, as everyone had been, stunned by that tyrant sending the dismembered body parts of his predecessor around the Region.

However here on Saint Gall life was calm and peaceful. There were such numbers of Imperial forces that it was almost like living on a huge base. You saw uniforms everywhere, and indeed on occasions he wore one when appropriate, though it was his black civil service one and not the Air Force one. He might include his two Air Force medals but they were hardly for something glorious like air combat. People were generally orderly, polite and hard working. It was a great post. He lifted his coffee to his lips and began to read up on local sports. Football and boating were his favourites.

[Raven Corps]

OOC: I had to take control of a few citizens I hope this is ok- if not just let me know and I'll amend as needed.

Beware the ravens wings unfurled, and fall not into its shadow where death is carried it its wake.

A quite drizzle had begun to fall over the island as the sun was set to dip below the golden horizon hiding its brilliant light behind the dank grey of the clouds above as the dock workers were busy going to and fro setting the motions of commerce in full motion as they brought containers and tankers from the ships to the harbor storage. Though it wasn't the first time, not the last that the workers would go about their tasks in the rain, but it would be the first time the dock would receive a cargo carrier from the Raven Corporation, its black and grey features and colors along with the golden symbol of the corporation at the stern on both aft and starboard sides. It carried no flag and held no know port of origin, something the port authority was concerned about in some measure.

"So has anyone hailed us from inside the ship?" inquired a Import and export control officer as he and a few other dock workers stood at the gated section of the harbor where Raven Security Services kept an eyes out through numerous security camera's and a few patrols that crossed within eye shot of the gate which bore the signage Keep out - Property of the Raven Corporation. One of the dockmen turned to the officer and asked "Are they even allowed to keep out the Port Authority? Do you have to ... I don't know, inspect something or talk to the captain?" the officer adjusted his cap to help keep the increasingly more intense rain from hitting his eyes as he glanced a side ways look at the worker as if he was challenging him in someway.

"Fine... I'll see whats being done about this." the officer replied as he turned about and walked back to the harbor office leaving the dock workers standing in awe of the massive ship covered in black containers. The rain was falling at a steady pace now though the wind thankfully was at bay as he opened the door to the offices and made his way to the Port Authority Security office where he saw a few other officers all standing around the officer in charge as he gave a statement.

"Ah! Officer Jones. Thanks for finally joining us... like I was saying. The ship which was received today is from a company called... ah... the Raven Corporation. Apparently, they have made arrangements to have a section of the harbor designated for their private use and have applied for special clearance in order to avoid inspections. That being said while we are legally obligated to let them dock we are not obligated to let them exit that section of the harbor or remove cargo from that section unless it is inspected and the personnel who leave present ID. I have already spoke with the ships Captain and he is sending the matter to their upper management. "

Another officer chimed in. "So what we just sit and wait? We have all heard what this company is capable of- How they have an army of PMC's at their beck and call. Who to say they wont just force us to go away?"

The OnC, Sargent. Ramirez, quickly shot back. "Because that's a crime and then we will have legal right to enter and detain everyone in the port is that understood. But, until we get this figured out everyone is to stay out of the gated section... it that understood?"

The other officers all shrugged; murmuring as they turned and walked away getting back to whatever duty they were attending to prior. Ramirez rubbed his eyes and returned his attention to his cup of coffee which had since cooled to much for his liking and barely audible expletives made it know at his frustration of the situation throwing the cup and its contains into his trash can.

"Jones!... Don't go. I need to have a word with you before you head back out." called Ramirez as he took hold of the computer mouse clicking away while waving Jones over with his free hand, of which Jones complied and closed the door behind him to makes some privacy.

"You rang Sarg?" Jones quipped as he poured two new cups of life giving coffee. "One sugar two cream?" he asked. Ramirez gave a thumbs up as he fell back into his chair taking the cup from Jones.

"You know I don't like the situation... But my hands are tied. ( takes a drink) I'm at a loss. I've gotten a good look at those security guards as they've walked around down their. They got some serious guns with them, but without being able to get one in my hands I can't say for certain if they violate the law for weapons importation. If I could get some kind of evidence they had broken a law- I could send you guys in and we could make a show of dominance, but as it stands right now that's not going to happen anytime soon. "

Jones took his drink of his cup before replying. "Well no one ships that much cargo and does nothing with it, and if they are indeed a company having product sitting on the docks doesn't earn you a dime so they are going to have to send someone to talk to us eventually.". Ramirez signed and took another drink from his cup turning his gaze from Jones to the office window where the rain glanced against its panes.

"You know... rumor has it the King is sick. No one is confirming much and its a rumor after all, but if its true- our enemies won't let an opportunity like that slip away without trying something and just as these rumors start 'they' show up. Coincidence? Maybe... suspicious? Without a doubt. I just...THE HELL IS THAT?!" Ramirez's voice echoed loudly as another deafening sound took its place. Both Jones and Ramirez jumped from the office and ran to the control center where they and others all watched as a a helicopter was hovering just above the ship before it landed in an opening within plain view of the control center and other parts of the docks. Jones grabbed a pair of binoculars to get a look at who was going to step off...

As the rotors of the chopper came to a stand still a number of security guards took to the side of the craft in an honor guard like formation as the door slide open.

"Well who is it?" asked Ramirez only able to make out a faint figure. Through the lens of the binoculars Jones saw a woman exit the aircraft.

Couldn't tell you... but holy hell if she isn't easy on the eyes. Tall, Blonde... blessed. She must be in charge of that vessel if she's coming in via helicopter." said Jones as he gave Ramirez the bino's to confirm what he saw. Though as he got a fix on her face she was ferried into a black SUV in the middle of a motorcade of other SUV's which was making for the gate of the fenced off portion.

"Get done there and figure out who that is!" barked Ramirez as he took back to the bino's. Jones didn't waste time rushing out of the Office he made a bee-line for the gate just as it was opening to much fan fair from the other officers and dockworkers. With hand outstretched he commanded the motorcade to stop and he approached the window of the SUV where he saw the woman enter and knocked on her window. The window opened slowly exposing the woman's face and her almost metallic grey eyes which locked onto Jones' before he spoke.

"Welcome to St Gall Ma'am... who might I have to pleasure of speaking?"

The woman's eyes hadn't moved still fixated on his own. It was un-nerving. Her response almost caught him off-guard.

"My name is Azuala Alizee Zion. I am the C.F.O. of the Raven Corporation and owner of that ship. I am going to your local government center to get all the paper work in order for us to do business here. I originally thought this matter was cleared, but imagine my surprise when I got a call from the ships Captain that this wasn't the case." Her voice was friendly, but carried a sternness that showed she was not amused. Jones shot back just as the rain began to stop.

"We have rules here ma'am. Your going to want to make your way to the Central Officer for Imports and Customs to get this straightened out I'm afraid- until we have the necessary paperwork, we are going to have to inspect any and all cargo that exits that port before any distribution can begin." . Azuala's eyes softened a bit as her expression changed as she spoke again.

"Wonderful- Thank you for the helpful information". The window closed once more and the motorcade left making its way to the office which had a route that passed by a number of facilities of the colony, such as the Community College which the route passed directly through the middle of via a main road. With the reduced speed it gave plenty of time for students and and others to get a good look at the vehicles as the drove by letting all who glanced take note of the golden symbol on the doors.

[Shalum]

Royceston Pit
Saint Gall Colony

While most came to the island in search of some idyllic paradise, or to attend the local college, there was a small minority who came to make money rather than spend it; Roman Trask was one of them. Despite the fact that his forty-third birthday had only been a few weeks ago, one could have easily mistaken him for someone ten years older. He had spent much of his life deep below the surface of the earth, or sweating it out under the harsh sunlight. He was a veteran of his craft, just like his father had been, and his healthy paycheck allowed him to send home a lot more than the local kids on his crew did.

It had been two years since he’d come to the island, and unlike many, he was no more or less endeared to it than when he had first arrived. Oh, certainly, the place was pretty, and there was a lot more to do here than in the wastes of Maldoria (when he’d been shot twice by locals who didn’t want to give up their rare earth elements) but it wasn’t often that he got time off to actually enjoy the better parts of life. Saint Gall had more than enough resources to exploit, and the mining company in charge of it all liked to keep them busy; the discovery of a new reserve of copper had come with blessings and curses.

While Roman’s job had all but guaranteed for the next five years at the very least, it was difficult to hide the irritation. The team in charge of had more than enough people, but that wasn’t the issue; the problem was that they didn’t have nearly enough experience, training, or know-how with very expensive machinery. In the last week, one of his rigid haul trucks had seen its bucket lock up and wouldn’t be able to get back to work for at least another week until the necessary replacement parts arrived by boat.

“You have got to be shitting me…” Roman grunted as he stalked across the yard towards one of the mining lanes where an articulated hauler was stuck in the mud. The hulking machine, which was dwarfed by one of their usual dump trucks, was one of the only three that they had on site at the moment until the next group finished up their work at an adjacent pit mine. It was inefficient work, but with their primary hauler down, they were pushed for resources. The mine needed more vehicles, but the company was so certain otherwise that Roman felt like pulling his hair out. “How did this happen?”

As his employee emerged, sheepish and red faced, Roman couldn’t help but wonder if $170 an hour was worth enough to put up with all of this bullshit.

---

Saint Gall Colony
St Gall Technical College

While a few people had broken off to head to other classes, grab something to eat, or whatever else, Joshua had decided to stay behind to listen in to what the rest of the group had to say. As one of the older students in the group, he had gotten all of his core classes out of the way in the last semester or during his correspondence classes in the army, giving him more than enough free time during most days. Though he had skills in application, design wasn’t exactly his speciality. He had always found listening in to be fascinating, even if he couldn’t always keep up. Of course, considering everyone else was a student just like he was, he took most things with a grain of salt lest the one time he open his mouth result in him staying something really stupid.

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

As Gabriel went back to lobbying dirigible idea, the Shalumite pursed his lips and glanced at Ruth for a long moment. When her back was turned to him like this, he learned that he was...a very fallible man. She may have been a religious fanatic (according to his few internet searches about New Edom) but...damn, that ass. He couldn’t help but bite his lip for a moment, a few all too-male fantasies running through his head. Glancing back to his notebook for a moment, he was thoughtful, and then he flipped the page.

Standing up, Joshua was pretty certain that no one even really noticed his departure. The only came to him when they needed something actually put together, and even then, his cohorts were getting good enough now that they were messing up a lot less when they had first started their classes together. It wasn’t something that he really minded. In a way, it was ironic really; he wanted to bond with everyone and make connections, but at the same time, it was hard to find them all as agreeable as he would have liked.

“Hey, uh, Ruth?” He tried to announce himself as he stepped up, without drawing attention from the rest of the group. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but I’ve got some tilt-rotor designs...” He made a point to hold his sketchbook up, showing off one of his latest ones. If she had seen his actual notes on the thing, it would have been hard to imagine that he could design so well yet write so sloppily. “They’re based on some concepts that have already been tested before, and have been proven to work, albeit on a smaller scale. Would you be interested in taking a look?” He asked with a smile. Truth be told, he had been trying to find a reason to talk with her all semester, and it was better to try and fail rather than never take the shot at all.

[Letwinist States]

Near the St Gall Technical University,
Colony of St Gall,
Vionna-Frankenlisch.

Eliisabet Laine stopped for a short moment, letting the wind rustle through her auburn hair and her summer dress. Not that she would be using said dress much at home, yet it made her feel so light, free. This would be the last stop on her tour through Vionna-Frankenlisch and its holdings before returning to the snowy weather of the Obli Peninsula. She had come to the United Kingdom as a part of the cultural programme with the Letwinist States, the latter organising a time off from her studies, paid internships with the States’ embassy and cultural centre as well as a moderate budget for travel and day-to-day expenditures.

As she thought back to her time in the capital, having arriving fresh from the People’s Union, she could not help but feel a tinge of regret at not staying a little longer in exchange for shortening her two week stay in the colony of St Gall. As she tied up her hair into a tight bun, she had to admit that she had felt useful and learned a lot during her time with the diplomatic corps, also being able to add to her knowledge on international relations and treaties in the process; a knowledge no doubt beneficial to her studies of law back at home. Nobody had ever told her that she had been granted this amazing possibility for her political views or the like and yet she had felt like it probably had been a criteria, making her all the more motivated to prove her worth to her people.

Yet after almost a third of a year with the embassy and the cultural centre in Frankenlisch, her friend Sohvi had finally persuaded her to let work go and use the remaining two months for a pleasure tour. If she was honest with herself, she should probably thank Sohvi for that – maybe when they met for tea later. For the last one and a half months had been the most exciting of her lifetime. Whether admiring the old architecture of ancient castles or the Kingdom’s many colourful museums, the many views so different from the landscapes of her home, it had been a blast. St Gall would be their last chance to unwind or maybe find another adventure in the hills or bars of the city.

She strolled through the curved streets of the city, taking in the buildings at her sides. In a way, the enormous constructions of steel and glass, contrasted with older architecture along the way, made for an amazingly diverse feel. As she continued along, she found what she was looking for. St Gall’s Technical University’s campus lay before her. Now she would just have to find the coffee shop Sohvi and her had decided to meet at.

---

“Elii! Over here!” Sohvi Koivula waved at her friend energetically, already sitting at a small table outside a cafe. Despite a bustle coming up on campus, they must have caught the end of a block, spotting Eliisabet had not proven much of a challenge. With sunlight dancing on her rigidly tight bun, turning it into an almost orange colour, and her light blue dress showing off a traditional Oblii style, she was easy enough to pick apart from the growing crowd. Sohvi herself had tied her strikingly blonde hair back into a pony tail and dressed in an equally light dress of a dark purple colour adorned with a white belt.

“Friendship, Sohvi. It is great to see you again.” Eliisabet laughed at Sohvi, truly glad that their stays here coincided so perfectly despite them going separate ways after leaving the capital.

“And you, friendship. I already got you a green tea,” Sohvi gestured towards the two cups in front of her, “isn’t this city simply beautiful?”

“It is. I-”

“Then it is good that we got this out of your system.” Elii had always been easy to impress by architecture, history, arts and whatnot. Sohvi was not about to let her launch into a three-hour presentation on her findings of the last ten minutes walking the city and campus. Grinning mischievously, she continued: “First work, then culture, now we need to get ourselves a proper holiday. Here, we have a campus full of young people, my best guess is that the clubs and bars will not be far. All we have to do is find a suitable victim to show us around.” With a flourish, Sohvi put on a pair of sunglasses and threw her head around to face the entrance of the nearest building in a comical way, obviously checking out the students exiting at that moment.

Again, Eliisabet had to laugh: “Sohvi, damn it!” she giggled, voice dripping with well-meant sarcasm: “With your inconspicuousness, I cannot help but wonder why you would be studying political sciences. You would make a great secret agent.”

“Oh, you are too gracious.” Sohvi bowed to her friend in mock-gratitude as she slid her glasses down onto the tip of her nose. “But I am absolutely serious about this. If I do not find a place to get thoroughly drunk and party the life out of this little island in, I will literally burst. Now, look at that guy over there, he’s cute, isn’t he?”

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
St Gall Merchant Port

Captain Isobel Morgan's company of Naval Infantry arrived on the scene mere minutes after the arrival of Azuala Zion, her troops carrying their battle rifles at port arms as they jogged in column formation to the gates of the Raven Corporation leased section of the port. The company halted and remained at attention while Captain Morgan approached the security on the gate. Her senior NCO, Sergeant Tarric, went to the Port Authority office to get whoever was on duty to come down with a few men.

"You there!" Morgan shouted, walking towards one of the gate guards, "I need you to open that gate, the Port Authority is arriving to inspect this precinct in a minute. Also I need you to hand over your weapons to be inspected also."

Outside St Gall Technical College

There were those tourists again... 'Lankey Bill' Fawkes kept seeing them, a pair of bright foreigners, not used to the maddening diversity of Vionna-Frankenlischian climates clearly and as fresh and beautiful as the rolling hills of Cunaris, his homeland. William Fawkes approached the pair, taking a deep breath and steeling himself, "Good day," he greeted with a smile, "I keep seeing you two around the place and I finally had to speak to you. You must be foreigners, tourists or students?" He asked.

Republic of Urat
City of Coniston
Presidential House

Katherine Thorne drank her double espresso with ardent interest, taking care that it didn't burn her mouth yet still savouring the strong taste of her island's produce. High-quality coffee beans kept Urat's agriculture afloat after several years of failed cotton and tobacco crops which were finally seeming to be growing strong again along with Urat's fledgeling economy. Sat to Thorne's left was her Vice President, Kerry Elliot, a woman just as motivated towards the cause of gender equality as Thorne herself and together they had seen it that women were equal in society to male citizens. The fight for women's equality was a hard-fought one and it had been the focus of Thorne's four-year tenure, that and the expansion of the Uratic military. Thorne was in a bad way in the polls, however, her focus of social problems rather than economic was having its effect on the nation which, while relatively stable, was still awash with poverty and even with the 2017 Women's Rights Bill it was unlikely that she would have a chance at reelection. Her government was strong but cries for economic progress and democratic reform were being answered by Barnaby Masters' Democratic Party of Urat.

That day's cabinet meeting had been cancelled by Thorne hours ago but she remained in her usual seat at the head of the table anyway, her coffee in front of her and her Vice next to her. The silence was thick and awkward and remained unbroken until Kerry Elliot turned on the radio sitting in the middle of the table. It was a fairly old device but working just as it had when it was produced in 1984, that is to say, not quite up to the mark. The audio was scratchy and a grating sound of rubbing sandpaper seemed to hover over every word spoken by Nowell Pearce, Urat Central Radio's beloved host. Elliot turned the dial however and after a series of music channels she eventually reached St Gall News Radio, a channel banned to regular Uratic citizens but relied upon by the Presidential pair for news from across the border.

"Today Sir Alex MacAllen, His Majesty's Representative in Saint Gall, made a call to the colony requesting all unemployed men and women to report to a series of Colonial Labour and Service Posts across the colony. This employment scheme was developed in a government meeting only hours ago, Sir Alex claimed, and it is aimed towards able-bodied men and women but accepts all manner of personnel and is open to citizens, non-citizens and even long-term tourists. There is little information as to what duties members would fulfil but it appears the tasks include ones of a military bearing and includes the digging of trenches and even the staffing of border posts."

Katherine turned the radio off and finished her coffee. "So..." She said, moving her eyes up to look her colleague in the face.
"They know what's coming," Elliot replied, her voice and manner as calm and stable as ever, "We're going to have to move quickly, no time to wait for allies."
"You know as well as I do that the response will be quick and brutal, we can't afford to take too many risks."
"Their King is ill," Elliot explained with a smile, "Any response will be a long time coming and they won't have any reinforcements arriving before we strike. We can take the colony and consolidate before the fat cats back in Frankenlisch even know what hit them."
Thorne smiled back, "In that case..." She replied, "Get a message to Damien, tell him to begin the discreet mobilisation of our army, navy and air force. Take it district by district so as not to raise too much attention from over the border." 'Damien' referred to Damien Keene, Urat's Minister of War who would be all to happy to issue the order and, if need be, lead the invasion himself. Elliot didn't need another word, she didn't even reply, just smilled deeply and left the room in an excited hurry.

[Letwinist States]

Outside St Gall Technical College,
Colony of St Gall,
Vionna-Frankenlisch.

As Eliisabet followed Sohvi’s gaze, she saw him too, getting a creeping feeling that they had already encountered him at some point in time. Surprised to see such a dressed-up student here, where everyone seemed to be wearing the next best outfit, she whispered towards Sohvi: “Well you cannot deny that he has a sense of style. You think he may be a noble of some kind?” Indeed, he was the best-dressed guy she could see and Elii was reminded of the big differences between Vionna-Frankenlisch and her own home. Though civilian universities did exist, they were used mostly for research work, not teaching. Sohvi and her were both enrolled in in the Padiwaankis Military Academy, specialized on training the new military and civilian administrators or civil servants. Despite neither of them having picked an inherently military degree, both were required to wear uniforms to class.

“Hm.” In way of response, Sohvi took another sip of tea: “I have no idea… although it seems as if we are about to find out. Do not turn around, he is looking our way.” Again, she casually lifted the cup to her lips.

Indeed, Elii could see the vague schemes of a tall, strikingly blonde figure coming towards them as she checked the window reflection across from her. She grinned at her friend before turning around for good, positively surprised that his handsomeness had not been a simple illusion of distance.

“Hello there”, Sohvi looked up at the tall man, mustering him intently. “We are here as tourists, does it show that much? It was a cultural exchange programme and now we are touring the Kingdom.” she beamed at William.

“Anyway,” Eliisabet piped in, standing up in one swift movement and nodding slightly at the newcomer: “This is Sohvi, I am Eliisabet, we are originally from the Letwinist States. May I ask, who we are dealing with?” Elii made to give William her right hand, while motioning toward their surplus third seat with her left.

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
Athens Coffee franchise
Near St Gall Technical

"Letwinist States..." William considered openly, "I know the name but it conveys nothing to me. I read in the paper a while back that there was a cultural exchange though, must be the same one." He smiled as a waitress walked over and inquired about his drink of choice, "Tea please, Earl Grey." He produced a notebook from his left trouser pocket and scribbled 'Sovi' and 'Elisabet' under the heading 'Letwinist States'

"My name's William Fawkes but my friends call me Bill or 'Lankey' Bill. I'm not from around here either, I'm Cunard by birth and my father is the Viscount Eldham but I'm here to study." He answered Eliisabet while sitting down at the offered chair. "How have you found Vionna-Frankenlisch? I hope you had a chance to visit Cunaris."

[New Edom]

Saint Gall Technical College

Gabriel had made her so angry. To foreigners, they both probably had funny accents. In their own languages, Gabriel made it very clear that he came from a good family, from an urban area of the country, and that he thought himself better educated than she was. Probably he thought she should be fetching him his tea.

“Hey, uh, Ruth?” He tried to announce himself as he stepped up, without drawing attention from the rest of the group. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but I’ve got some tilt-rotor designs...” He made a point to hold his sketchbook up, showing off one of his latest ones. If she had seen his actual notes on the thing, it would have been hard to imagine that he could design so well yet write so sloppily. “They’re based on some concepts that have already been tested before, and have been proven to work, albeit on a smaller scale. Would you be interested in taking a look?” He asked with a smile. Truth be told, he had been trying to find a reason to talk with her all semester, and it was better to try and fail rather than never take the shot at all.

Ruth flushed as he addressed her, and said, "Um. I'm sorry, what was your name again? Jack? John? Jim?" she ran a hand through her hair and messed it up further. "Um, sure, what I'm trying to contribute is a complete nonlinear flight dynamic mathematical model of it, to calculate the flight envelope of the tilt rotor and the conversion characteristics, so I can get a linear model in the trim point to design the flight control system and analyze the control stability, and to calculate the
control response of the nonlinear model and evaluate the flying quality through the flight dynamic simulation." she turned her head aside and sneezed loudly and looked away; she felt mortified that she had not gotten her tissue out first, and she did so, taking a tissue out of a packet in her backpack, then still turning her face away tidied herself before looking at him again.

Meanwhile, Gabriel needed to check his phone, and let the ideas he had proposed germinate. He had proposed, essentially, a four meter long dirigible solar powered drone that would enormously save on energy and be able to be in nearly continuous use other than regular maintenance. It would not have serious issues with birdstrike, entanglement in power lines, and could move more gently in urban areas. its grater lift capacity would mean that it could deliver products to a far greater extent and even help with construction, search and rescue and other vital tasks.

Mostly though he was eager to talk to his older brother Emmanuel. Part of why he was doing this was for his family. With their father crippled, Emmanuel was running the family farm back home. It was vivid to him, the two of them fishing and Emmanuel talking about him going to study overseas. "It's important that the family branch out. You heard that public address from the Minister of Education. Learning new technology and development is as important as serving in uniform. With the recession, with the price of services and equipment and fuel up so high, and the prices of our crops down...we need to be ready to branch out and adapt, little brother."

"If you are the property heir and Zach is the soldier, that makes me the priest, but of science," said Gabriel.

Emmanuel had laughed and ruffled his hair.

He hesitated, and decided he was just being silly and homesick. He went into the washroom for the sake of form, washed his face, and went back to the classroom, and saw the Shalumite man chatting up Ruth. A weird contradiction went through him--he found her annoying and enticing at the same time, and felt an almost proprietary sense about her, like she was his somehow. Ridiculous. Frustrated, he sat down and reviewed his flight pattern charts again. "Welll," he said out loud, "What do you all think?"

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Republic of Urat
City of Coniston
Ministry of War

Damien Keene was very excited, his life's ambition, the conquest of Saint Gall, was on its way and he'd be alive to see it. His desk was awash with papers and couriers brought reports in by the minute. General Davey Yates sat in a chair on the other side of the desk, sorting papers and smoking a large cigar. The moustached man seemed to wear sunglasses wherever he went and had his blond hair constant in a well-maintained crew cut that was almost invisible under his beret. You could tell whenever the General was coming by the thick smell of his cigars that he seemingly smoked 24/7 and by the clomp-clomp noise of his tall cowboy boots that gave him the stereotypical image of a patriotic Balonic officer in the Yatama War. If that wasn't bad enough, the leather holster attached to his belt on the right hip carried a heavy-looking Magnum revolver and on occasion, he even wore the Stetson hat of the Uratic Republican Rangers.

"Does Thorne know that their King's position is probably very temporary?" Yates asked, his speech muffled slightly by the cigar firmly chomped between his teeth.

"She thinks its serious," Keene replied, "Which is why we need to move quickly. I've ordered the mobilisation to be done as quickly as possible. We can deal with the dodgers later and just get as many men ready as possible by tomorrow evening."

Despite his arrogant manner, Yates looked a little uneasy, "Tomorrow evening?" He exclaimed, surprised, "Shit. That sounds pretty damn rushed, I've got plans drafted but nothing is finalised."

"Doesn't matter," Keene had an unusual air of confidence today, "They won't last longer than a day, they have ten thousand troops, five ships and fifty aircraft."

"Tanks?" Yates inquired, writing all this down on a scrap piece of paper.

"No more than a hundred," Keene replied and looked at Yates, confused, "Don't you know all this? You're General of the Army for heavens sakes!"

Yates held his hand out to calm the Minister of War, "I knew estimates and troop positionings, no specific numbers." He reassured.

"You will begin preparations immediately based on everything you know. I want a briefing at noon tomorrow to all ranking officers, I will be in attendance." Keene told Yates quite sternly, "By Four PM you will have one hundred thousand troops at your command and about four times that number by the end of the week, if not more."

Yates decided not to reply, he simply nodded, turned and left the room, in turn opening the door for General Brody Cullen, the Chief of the Air Force and Admiral Kendall Sadler, the Chief of the Navy. They wasted no time and Cullen quickly asked, "Sir, we wanted to know what forces will be at our disposal for the operation next week?"

"Next week? The invasion begins tomorrow afternoon?" Keene replied, confused, "Have you not been told anything. The forces at your disposal are exactly what you have now."

The pair looked at each other and Admiral Sadler replied, "With respect, sir, why has the army recieved so many reinforcements while we've got nothing new."

Keene stood up from his chair, "Gentlemen..." He said, his voice low and quiet in a semi-threatening tone, "I hope you don't mean to say that you are unable to perform your duties? You've got everything you need, the Imperialists have fifty planes and five ships, if that will be a problem... Best tell me now."

They glanced at each other again and then back at Keene, "No, sir, no problem." Sadler answered.

"No problem, sir." Cullen echoed, "We'll just go then, sir."

And they did just that...

[Letwinist States]

Athens Coffee Franchise,
Near St Gall Technical College,
Colony of St Gall,
Vionna-Frankenlisch.

“That is a shame, the States are a quite lovely, I hope you get the chance to visit at some point in time.” Sohvi grinned as she watched William write down their names in a small notebook.

Eliisabet pondered his question for a bit before answering: “I think I was in Cunaris for a short while, that was the area with the many beautiful hills, wasn’t it? I remember immediately liking the lush green landscape, if I am entirely correct. I can say that I have enjoyed every minute of my stay in Vionna-Frankenlisch. It is all so different to our home. You see, the states are way up in the north and covered in snow most of the time, it is very refreshing to experience such a different climate.”

Sohvi nodded at her friend as she spoke and gave her own opinion immediately after she finished: “Indeed, but also your way of life is amazing, the whole monarchy thing is like experiencing a fairytale, you must really love living here.
What are you currently studying? Unfortunately, all these technical things are not quite down my alley, I do political sciences back at home but your campus is so beautiful. Maybe you could show us around at some point in time. Possibly with a detour to a nice bar you know.” She winked at Bill cheerfully.

[Raven Corps]

Captain Isobel Morgan's company of Naval Infantry arrived on the scene mere minutes after the arrival of Azuala Zion, her troops carrying their battle rifles at port arms as they jogged in column formation to the gates of the Raven Corporation leased section of the port. The company halted and remained at attention while Captain Morgan approached the security on the gate. Her senior NCO, Sergeant Tarric, went to the Port Authority office to get whoever was on duty to come down with a few men.

Officer Jones had just gotten back to the office and was about to give his report to Ramirez regarding Azuala leaving to go get her paperwork in order when Sgt. Tarric entered the building. No one had quite realized that the Naval Infantry had even arrived till someone looked out the window and caught a glimpse of what was happening down at the gated port.

"Hiya! If you chaps wouldn't mind getting a few other officers rounded up and get them to the Raven port that would be good, we are talking to them now about opening up the gate so we can get a proper inspection on that ship and those guards. Technically this is your jurisdiction so we don't want to step on any toe's eh?" Ramirez and Jones traded glances before Ramirez got up from his desk chair and joined Jones in the control center where Sgt. Tarric was still slapping his cover to get the excess water off of it. Ramiez offered the first response.

"Took you a hot minute to get here eh?" You already missed the person who is responsible for the vessel and its contents. Her name is Azuala Alizee Zion and she hails from the nation of Kornosia, but she holds residence in over 20 different nations. The company she works for in the Raven Corporation and they have a checkered history regarding the use of force in its dealings with other nations. I tried looking up specific instances but the reports are vague and some, after looking deeper, are owned or were acquired mere 2 weeks before the reports where made. If you look at their financial statements they are dealing in numerous industries ranging from food packaging, pharmaceuticals, and Medical machinery, but also things like National government loan programs- mass buyouts of treasury notes and bonds, and even para-military support and if you read between the lines even offer soldiers for hire." . Sgt. Tarric wasted no time in his next statement before turning around and heading for the exit with a squad of Port Authority officers in tow.

"All the more reason we need to get on that ship and verify its contents."

Jones and the others kept pace until they reach the solid gates demanding to be allowed inside.

"You there!" Morgan shouted, walking towards one of the gate guards, "I need you to open that gate, the Port Authority is arriving to inspect this precinct in a minute. Also I need you to hand over your weapons to be inspected also."

The guards at the gate where wearing odd looking masks which obstructed their entire face. It was the first time Jone had gotten a firm look at their entire body for visual examination. As the demands continued eventually another guard with a different uniform and no mask approached the gate and addressed the infantry just outside.

" Hello, I believe I can assist you with your request. I am having my men line up to have their weapons inspected as well as getting the ship visitor ready with ID badges which will give you access to all portions of the vessel and I will be able to produce a shipping manifest for the port authority However the cargo is in the lower holds and is still being inspected to ensure the containers didn't shift into a dangerous position before we can let you in there to ensure the cargo is legal. ". The man was dry and his voice barely shifted as he talked and he showed little in the way of facial expressions. As he finished speaking he looked back and then looked forward back to the group and waved to the stationed guards to open the gate proper. The stationed guards tapped against a touch screen giving the gate it open command allowing the infantry and the officers to enter the compound. Jones noted the inordinate number of security camera's which lined the drive way to Port which was also surrounded by a fence on either side.

"Ramirez...Something isn't bloody right with this. The only voice I've heard from these chaps is from that fellow leading us to the ship." commented Jones under his breathe behind Ramirez's ear. Ramirez didn't respond directly but glanced behind him in a concerned fashion. As they rounded a corner they got a full view of the ship, unobstructed by various structures which gave more of a naval base then a cargo port and much to the dry tones of the leading guard there was the guards all standing in a formation, each looking exactly the same as the next. Jones was somewhat awe struck at the site there had to be almost a hundred of them. The taking the lead began speaking again.

"As you can see each guard here is equipped with a semi-automatic rifle. ( He takes a weapon from a guard for closer inspection) Each weapon is equipped with less-then-lethal ammunition, although should lethal force be required each guard has a supply of 100 rounds of 5.56mm standard FMJ ammunition, although the use of this ammunition is restricted to life or death situations. They are also equipped with a semi-automatic pistol of the .45 APC variety as a side arm though generally this weapon is to remain holstered at all times and each weapon holster is set with a seal which will indicate that a weapon has been drawn. "

Jones was half listening to the man as he continued on with his monologue, but he couldn't shake the uneasiness of his surroundings...

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
Athens Coffee franchise
Near St Gall Technical

"I should love to visit any nation that is home to such beauty," William replied, looking over the pair with a smile, "Oh, and yes, Cunaris is fairly hilly, beautiful and green. Before you return to the Letwinist States you must allow me to take you to Eldham for a while, marvellous place." He stopped talking as a waitress arrived, delivering his tea, he thanked her and took a sip of the drink before answering Sohvi's questions, "Well... Vionna-Frankenlisch has almost always been a monarchy aside from a decade of horrendous socialist rule and a few months of being known as the Frankenlischian First Republic so it's kind of just normal to me and everyone else. We all trust the King because we know he trusts us and that he loves his country and his people."

William opened up his wallet and produced a ten Lucan note with which to pay for everyone's drinks and also a pair of small glossy photos, he handed one each to the two girls, "Take this," he said, "There he is, our King, you can show people back home. The man to the left of him is my father, Lord Eldham, they are good friends I think. Oh, and as for studying, I'm in a group working on Physics but a lot of my time is devoted towards studying history."

St Gall Merchant Port

"Well they're not breaking weapon rules so long as they are Semi-Auto..." Tarric told his Captain, "But ball ammo, are they allowed to have that?"

"So long as they have a permit," Isobel replied, "Also, there clearly is something fishy about this, not allowing us down into the hold yet and all these guards everywhere. I'll be honest, I don't feel at all safe. I'm going to march the rest of the company in, just in case. I know the reputation these Raven Corp guys have..."

Captain Morgan snapped to attention, turned and marched over to her company that were still drawn up in column by the gates. "Company, right turn!" She ordered and they sharply turned to their right and stomped their left foot down. "By the left! Quick March!" She ordered and the company marched through the gates and into the port area. "Company, halt!" She ordered when they had gotten far enough, ordering them finally to stand at ease with their rifles at an Ordered position.

Morgan walked over to Jones, "Officer Jones!" She called, he quickly walked over, "I don't like this," She told him plainly, "All the guards, the cameras, the rifles... Well, what I'm saying is, I'm not ruling out the possibility of a... Misunderstanding of sorts." She cocked her head to the side so he would understand and discretely pushed her service revolver into his hand. "Just a precaution..." She said, winking. Jones put the gun quickly away in his pocket.

[Noordeinde]

U.S. of Noordeinde Consulate - General, St. Gall

Up untill now it had been a quiet day at the U.S. Consulate on St. Gall Island, as was usually the case. At the State Department they refered to this post as a "sleeping post". Not that they often refered to this Consulate-General for exactly that same reason. Nothing really interesting ever happened here. Being in charge of Noordeinde's diplomatic mission on St. Gall was Consul-General Louis van Amstel, a Senior Foreign Service Officer with the State Department for over 30 years. Sometimes he still didn't know why in the world he had been assigned to this post but, anyway, he liked working and living here. He would usually say to himself that he probably had earned this nice and quiet assignment after he had spend such a large part of his diplomatic career at various of Noordeinde's diplomatic posts in conflict areas around the world. In comparison the only action he would see here at the U.S. Consulate in St. Gall is when tourists from Noordeinde stop by for emergency passports or when citizens of St. Gall come in to apply for their VISA's when travelling to Noordeinde.

Another perk of his job as Consul-General on St. Gall is that he does not need an entire security detail or 24/7 police protection, unlike many other of his colleagues around the world. As a matter of fact he often drives his bicycle to the office in the morning. Nobody in the streets seemed to know who he was and nobody seemed to care. It was refreshing for once that he is not being followed every step by bodyguards. This morning however, on his way to the Consulate building he noticed an increased presence of police and military personel in the streets. He drove by the merchant port and noticed even more soldiers. Another ten minutes went by and van Amstel arrived at the office and he noticed that something must be going on as he was met at the entrance by his two only Diplomatic Security Service Agents.

"Sir you have to come with us" they said and they escorted him to his office. Not much later his Defense Attaché walked into his office: "Sir, we are not sure, but is seems that the island's defence forces are being mobilized to counter a possible threat from Urat." He quickly turned on the radio and van Amstel listened carefully to the message that was being told:

Today Sir Alex MacAllen, His Majesty's Representative in Saint Gall, made a call to the colony requesting all unemployed men and women to report to a series of Colonial Labour and Service Posts across the colony. This employment scheme was developed in a government meeting only hours ago, Sir Alex claimed, and it is aimed towards able-bodied men and women but accepts all manner of personnel and is open to citizens, non-citizens and even long-term tourists. There is little information as to what duties members would fulfil but it appears the tasks include ones of a military bearing and includes the digging of trenches and even the staffing of border posts.

"Get me Sir MacAllen on the phone" he said after the broadcast had stopped. "We need to find out what the Hell is going on. This morning when passing by the Port I already saw a rather large group of soldiers standing at attention and they aren't usually there." While waiting untill someone on the other side would pick up his telephone, van Amstel wrote an urgent cable to his bosses at the State Department: "Increased Safety Measures on St. Gall Island without notification. Higher police and military presence in the streets as usual. Possible military threat from Urat??"

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
Government House

"Call for you, sir." Mister Barnes, Government House's sole footman reported.

"Thank you, Mister Barnes..." Sir Alex MacAllen, His Imperial Majesty's representative, acknowledged. He took the phone's handset and held it to his ear and mouth. "Good day, Sir Alex MacAllen, His Imperial Majesty's representative in Saint Gall Colony."

Qhorin Bridge Service Post

Eric Emmerson sat in the hastily prepared meeting room at the Colonial Service Post by Qhorin Bridge listening to Lieutenant Phillip's explanation of their duties. "Essentially, chaps, the Colonial Government has established this new scheme to provide basic labour and service to the Colony while also dealing with the problem of unemployment. This is not compulsory, this is not conscription, it is, however, in a way national service.
Or international service, to those non-citizens here." The young Lieutenant could hardly be any older than Eric but he spoke with the phantom years of his commission. "There is a dormitory area for those of you that have nowhere to stay and tomorrow there will be a shipment that will allow us to prepare hot meals. Working hours are between nine in the morning and nine in the evening but there is a break in the day and obviously students and such will be excused. You can leave whenever you'd like but while you are here, you do your allotted tasks, you follow my orders and you are paid according to your work."

"A very liberal interpretation of National Service..." Eric muttered just loud enough for the foreign-looking student next to him to hear, she giggled but made no reply.

"Now... On to the subject everybody is worried about." The Lieutenant continued, "If there should be some... Unforeseen incident in regards to Urat, or any other nation that might try to violate our Colonial Sovereignty, nobody is required to serve aside from those between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two that are Vionna-Frankenlischian citizens that have not served their period of National Service. There are arms on station and you will be delegated to my command until a proper organisational structure can be decided on by the military command of Saint Gall. Non-citizens will be evacuated to the town unless they wish to serve as volunteers, after which point their safety cannot be guaranteed in the case of a foreign invasion." He seemed a little shaky when he said this but quickly brightened up. "Now, with all of the dreariness out of the way, let's get everybody signed on and we'll get to work!"

Application forms were passed around, as was a clipboard with a document that everybody signed. Questions included simple details such as Name, Date of Birth, Current Residence; along with somewhat more personal but still necessary matters such as Sexual Preference, Religion, Relationship Status and Family Background. Eric filled this out happily and it seemed nobody else had any problems, aside from a blue-haired teen that Eric recognised from his campus who scowled at the question of Gender, reddened with anger at the sight of Sexual Preference and tore up the application upon reading Relationship Status and without any legible explanation stormed from the building.

Eric completed his quickly and delivered it to the Lieutenant, up close he looked strangely familiar like they'd met before but never spoken. The young man had a small stubble and surprisingly shaggy hair for a military officer, his uniform was scruffy yet clean and the leather holster at his side clearly contained a menacing looking revolver. Seeming to read Eric's mind, the officer asked, "Have we met somewhere?"

"Not sure, sir." Eric replied, respectfully."

"Drop the sir, you've not been drafted yet." The officer replied, adding a nervous chuckle afterwards. "I do recognise you!" He quickly added, surprised, "You're in old Hamilton's Physics group!"

Confused, Eric responded, "Err, yes. You've been on campus at some point?"

"Mate," the officer chuckled, "I used to be in that group, I moved temporarily into Professor Rawlin's Chemistry group for a time. I was meant to move back this Friday but yesterday an Army lorry pulled up when I was walking in and dragged me back here, said I was out of the reserves."

The realisation was like a slap in the face, "You're Jock Phillips?"

"The very one, but nobody's called me Jock in months so stick to Lieutenant Phillips around here. Anyway. It'd be marvellous to catch up 'nd all but I've got to get this lot to work..."

As the Lieutenant turned and, with a smile, walked over to a cluster of volunteers, Eric stood dumbfounded by the discovery. [i]'It must be bad...' He thought, 'If they're calling College students out of the reserves,
it must be something bad...'

[Noordeinde]

U.S. of Noordeinde Consulate - General, St. Gall

While sitting behind his desk van Amstel was finnaly connected through to the office of the Representative of the King in Saint Gall, Sir MacAllen.

"Good day, Sir Alex MacAllen, His Imperial Majesty's representative in Saint Gall Colony."

"Good day, sir, this Louis van Amstel speaking, the Consul-General of the United States of Noordeinde. The reason I wanted to speak to you had to do with some of the concerns which I have since this morning." van Amstel paused for a brief moment before he continued: "This morning, sir, I noticed an increased presence of police and military personnel in the streets. As a matter of fact I personally withnessed troop movements of the Territorial Army, which is the Colony's Defence force, in the merchant port. Thereafter, after I arrived at our Consulate building, I heard a speech on the radio which calls upon fit men and women to report for a series of Colonial Labour and Service Posts."

Van Amstel paused for another moment and sighed before he continued: "Sir, I have been a Senior Foreign Service Officer for over 20 years and in total I've been working at the U.S. Department of State for over 30 years. I've served in the most difficult of circumstances in various countries and my personal alarm bells go off when, all of a sudden, I'm being confronted with an increased presence of police and military personnel in the streets. Especially if this is combined with radio messages which call upon people to report for civil service."

A chill went down his spine before he continued: "Sir, sorry for my bluntness but I have to ask. Are we looking at a mobilization of the colony's defence forces? Because in this case I would like to know if this is a drill or that the colony is actually facing any sort of threat or even an armed conflict? I am aware of the historical and current tensions between His Majesty's Imperial government and the administration of Urat but I was not aware that the situation was currently escalating. Anyway, sir, I need to know what is going on in case me and my staff have to start make preperations to assist our own nationals in the colony."

"And also, sir.." van Amstel continued: "If this is what I think that it is. Namely a military mobilization. Please let me remind you that your government enjoys the support of the government of the United States of Noordeinde. We are aware that Urat has traditionally always claimed the entire island, including the colony of St. Gall, as its territory. But we are also fully aware that the citizens of St. Gall want to remain part of the United Kingdom. The United States of Noordeinde will not condone a breach of international law if Urat violates your border and national sovereignty. Thus if there is anything I can do, please let me know and I can talk to my superiors at the State Department."

[Letwinist States]

Athens Coffee Franchise,
Near St Gall Technical College,
Colony of St Gall,
Vionna-Frankenlisch.

“Oh”, the two girls blushed slightly at Bill’s compliment.

“It would be a pleasure to accompany you. This country is so full of pleasant surprises, I wish I could stay another year.” Sohvi beamed at William: “And thank you for inviting us to tea.”

Elii had turned rather serious as William started talking about Vionna-Frankenlisch’s history. “I had read about the DPRV-F before coming here. It reminded me a bit of the dictatorial state which ruled the Oblii Peninsula before the Greatest War. Sad to see what people are capable of when they are so fully ready to murder any who do not agree with their beliefs.”

She took the picture William handed her shyly, regarding it thoroughly before placing it in her purse. “Interesting, it seems like a great privilege to get that close to a King. Now history I can understand”, Eliisabet once again turned cheerful: “Do you study Vionna-Frankenlischian history as a whole or only a certain time period, or do you study another country?”

“Elii”, Sohvi rolled her eyes, “I doubt Bill is going to want to give us a presentation of his work so soon after coming out of class.”

[Tohen]

Leaving Antselt,
Island of Tohen,
Republic of Tohen.

Florentijn Moleman’s black limousine sped along the empty road, police cars escorting him. The street leading from the capital city of Antselt, lined with high palm trees was almost completely empty, with only occasional cars moving in the direction they had come from and so they made good progress.

Florentijn let his gaze wander out of his tilted side windows as the grass belt surrounding the northern part of the city gave way to sweeping fields. Most of them now belonged to him. Most. It had always been a thorn in the president’s side that just a few kilometres from the road, obscured by the vast amount of coffee plants, there were still farms owned by the indigenous population. During the last years, he had successfully bought out a great many of these small and barely profitable lands after the government had bowed to the international demand of introducing plots of land cultivated only by… ‘them’. Yet a select few, exceedingly stubborn natives were still refusing his, or so he believed, amazingly generous offers for the small patches of land which did but keep their families afloat while being potential gold mines for entrepreneurs like Florentijn. He sighed. Some of these people were simply too proud for their own good, they never saw when the time had come to give up.

Prime Minister Florentijn Moleman's Estate,
Island of Tohen,
Republic of Tohen.

“Apologies, my friends.” Florentijn strode into the room, coloured servants holding open the heavy double-doors for him as he passed. “I am afraid that a government matter saw me delayed. Thankfully, it was all to a quite agreeable ending; it is my pleasure to announce that the Geheim Republiekveiligheidstroepen, our valiant secret police, has been able to deal a massive blow to the underground network of the socialist People’s Front, making numerous arrests.”

There was polite applause from all sides as he strode towards the room’s centre. Huge, arching windows let the early evening sun into the expensively furnitured room, not making lights necessary for what Florentijn estimated to be another three to four hours. Gathered around, puffing on cigars and some smoking cigarettes, all some form of beverage in hand, was his innermost circle, the true rulers of the Tohen archipelago. Dressed in black tie attire, naval uniforms dresses the rich and powerful were brimming of anticipation. Mingling discreetly and dotted around the room were the household servants, ready to pass a cigar, cognac, whiskey or fulfil any other wish their master’s well-decorated guests could have.

Taking a glass of expensive whiskey from the plate of a coloured man to his right, Florentijn addressed the men and women around him once more: “Thank you for coming. We live in tumultuous times and therefore I hope you will forgive my directness as I come straight to the subject without further ado.

Our good friend, the president of Urat, Katherine Thorne has confided in me a piece of information we have long been waiting for. As we speak, Urat makes ready for war. On Vionna-Frankenlisch.” A slight murmur washed through the room. The news were barely a surprise for any of the well-connected and politically savvy Tohen elite but hearing it spoken aloud finally made all the different rumours, whispers and small signs reality. The president looked to his left, where two men and a woman stood in the gleaming dress uniform of Tohen’s supreme naval command. They were nodding, faces almost expressionless, only the older of the two men smirking discreetly as the group remained rigidly standing upright, the pride of Tohen sporting their ocean-blue coats and dazzlingly white trousers.

“Of course, as is our sacred duty, I stressed that Tohen will aid our friends by whatever means neccessary.” This time, the reaction was less withheld, as more than a few of those present openly approved of his statement. “Hear, hear!” an old woman, the owner of farms spanning almost all of the island of St Johannis, if Florentijn remembered correctly, raised her glass in admiration and support.

“It is about time that we showed those monarchists who rules these waters now.” An even older woman, almost ninety years old, jeered openly. All knew the reason for the lady’s hate of Vionna-Frankenlisch, as her husband and three sons had been killed in a riot of farm workers after a monarchist rally.

“My friends!” Florentijn raised his glass as he continued: “We will partially mobilise our navy and ground assault forces first thing tomorrow. Let us toast to the success of our enterprise, the uniting of St Gall under the banner of our friends in Urat and the subsequent weakening of our nemesis!”

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Saint Gall Colony
Government House

"You are very much correct, I'm afraid..." Sir MacAllen dutifully and drearily reported, "His Imperial Majesty, the King, has sadly taken ill. An illness of the mind as we've been told. As the elected Governor of Saint Gall, His Majesty is responsible for our Colony's cooperation with the rest of Vionna-Frankenlisch and the Commonwealth, there are no protocols in place as to what should happen if a governor that does not reside on the island is incapacitated and thus we have no legitimate communications with the motherland. The King's doctor forbids him from speaking to us via the usual methods and interfering signals from Urat mean that it is hard to get any message at all back home."

MacAllen paused for van Amstel to take in what had just been said, "I don't think this is an opportunity that Urat would pass up. We can expect anything from a diplomatic incident to a full invasion of Saint Gall in about a week's time, by then we will likely have official communication back but nothing will arrive in time. We can only dig in, call up what men we can and hope to hold out. You are very kind to offer your nation's support and I can offer nothing but our most sincere thanks and the hope that you can send anything that might aid us..."

Athens Coffee Franchise,
Near St Gall Technical College

"I don't mind..." Bill replied, happily, "I'm interested in any history really but my forte is pre-unification. That is, when we were the Kingdom of Frankenlisch and the Kingdom of Vionna rather than a united nation. My focus is mainly towards the formation of the Kingdom of Vionna. I'm studying the Vionnan Anarchy and the reign of King Osmund II of Frankenlisch at the moment."

"What do you study, or did you study?" He asked, genuinely interested.

[Noordeinde]

U.S. of Noordeinde Consulate - General, St. Gall

Consul-General van Amstel listened carefully to Sir MacAllen as his worst fear became reality. A chill went down his spine as he could not help but to think back to the time in his diplomatic career during which he served at various diplomatic missions of the United States in war torn countries. Van Amstel, who nearly turnes 60, had hoped to retire from the foreign service after this quiet and relaxed assignment in Saint Gall but it seemed that things would turn out very different. As MacAllen continued to answer his questions he rapidly wrote down all of this new information.

"Let me first of all say that I am very sorry to hear that His Majesty has been seriously ill. Please give him my best regards." van Amstel started his reply with. "However, what concerns me even more is the fact that my suspicions of this morning are now being confirmed. And if that wasn't a big enough problem already, you are telling me that there is some sort of constitutional crisis going on as well?" For a moment he paused to take in as well what Sir MacAllen had just told him. "Sir, who then is in charge of the island's security and defence?"

It was time for the Consul-General to take decisive action: "Sir, if you will now excuse me, I now have to inform my superiors at the State Department about this current situation which we are facing. I will get back to you." van Amstel promised MacAllen before he hung up the phone. In the meantime some of the Consul-General's Senior Staff members had gathered in his office as they listened into the phonecall which had just ended. There was no time for emotions and immediatley their trained skills as diplomats kicked-in. Everyone went to work immediatley to look into how many Noordeindean nationals were momentarily in the colony and to make sure that they were safe.

Van Amstel had no time to sit still as well. His Chief of Staff had just called the State Department and they had to wait for the switchboard operator to connect them through to the Secretary of State her office. From the other room van Amstel could hear his Chief of Staff tell the switchboard operator that it is urgent. Never had van Amstel thought to be back into a possible armed conflict situation. Especially not as the chief-of-mission. A few seconds later his Chief of Staff yelled from his office that a video connection had been established with the Secretary of State. Van Amstel walked back to his office and sat down in front of the computer on his desk.

State Department of the United States of Noordeinde, City of The Hague

At the State Department Secretary of State Elizabeth McCord was taken out of a meeting by her Chief of Staff and they walked into her office. She sat down behind the computer on her desk as well as she saw a familiar face. Even though McCord had only been Secretary of State for about a year, she knew Louis van Amstel pretty well as he is one of the longest serving diplomats and senior foreign service officers within the department. A couple of times they had met this year at more festive occasions. This time around it seemed to be rather serious. "Louis, how are you doing? I was told that it is urgent so what's going on?" McCord asked.

'Ma'am, personally I am doing fine. Thank you." van Amstel replied. "Unfortunately it is urgent indeed that I need to talk to you." Van Amstel briefed Secretary McCord about what he had seen in the morning. He then continued about the telephone conversation which he just had with Sir MacAllen: "I just got off the phone with His Majesty's Representative in Saint Gall, Sir MacAllen. He has just confirmed that the military is indeed being mobilized as they either expect some sort of diplomatic incident or even a military invasion by neighbouring Urat." Then van Amstel continued with some information abour the historic ties and tensions between Vionna-Frankenlisch and Urat. In particular in regard to Urat's historic claim over the entire island, including the territory which now makes up Saint Gall.

McCord listened carefully to the Consul-General and she wondered what motive Urat would have for especially choosing this time of the year to invade: "So, Louis, why now? Why would they start a war now?" - "Well ma'am, I've also just been informed that His Majesty the King has taken ill" van Amstel replied. "It seems that His Majesty's illness is of such serious nature that he is not able to fullfill his duties, which leaves the entire United Kingdom in, what seems to be, a consitutional crisis since there is no protocol in place which deals with an incapacitated monarch." van Amstel sighed and paused for a moment: "Ma'am, this conflict has been going on for decades. If the government of Urat got word of the King being incapacitated, which leaves the country ungovernable, I too see a serious chance that this entire situation might evolve in armed conflict."

Secretary McCord had to think for a brief moment before she responded: "Louis, we'll take it from here. You just make sure that you, you staff and all of our nationals there are safe and please keep me up to date about the situation. I'll take it up to the President. Stay safe!" - "Yes ma'am I will keep you updated." van Amstel replied and the video conference was ended. "Get the motorcade to wait for me downstairs" McCord said to her personal aide when she walked by his desk towards the elevator.

President's Hall - Office of the President, City of The Hague.

About twenty minutes later Secretary McCord arrived with her motorcade down the steps of President's Hall. Once the door of her armored car was opened she walked up the stairs and into the lobby. Followed every step by her Chief of Staff Jay and her Diplomatic Security Service detail they walked up the stairs to the first floor, to the office of President Hoekstra. She walked into the outer office and was greeted by the personal secretary of the President, who immediatley stood up and opened the door to the President's Office: "Secretary McCord for you, sir."- "Please let her in." the President said. "Good afternoon sir, thank you for seeing my on such short notice." - "No problem Elizabeth, what can I do for you?" Hoekstra replied.

About a minute later they were joined by the President his Chief of Staff, Pete Daalder. Secretary McCord told them everything that she had just heard from Consul-General van Amstel and made a proposol: "Sir maybe I can visit both countries and the Colony of St. Gall. Go to St. Gall first and meet with Sir MacAllen. I think that Urat will never attack while I am there tommorow and the day therafter. Which saves us and them some time. They should know that if anything happens with me that the U.S. will retaliate."

McCord paused for a moment to think before she continued: "Therafter I can travel accros the border and visit Urat and meet with their President and thereafter I can go to Vionna-Frankenlisch and meet with the King or anyone else who is in charge. Maybe there is an opportunity for the United States to mediate in this conflict, before it even escalates. What do you think?" President Hoekstra had to take it all in and had to think about his answer for a brief moment: "So what are our options? Are you really sure to go into a warzone and try to talk them out of it?"

"It might be our only solution for now, sir. I agree with Elizabeth on this one." Pete, the President's Chief of Staff, added. "So far no shots have been fired and maybe we are able to keep it that way." He continued. "Sir, as a former diplomat you know how important it is to keep talking with eachother. At this moment we have not yet exausted our diplomatic resources. So let's start with that before we also could start with sanctions. Once actual conflict has broken out'' McCord said. The President had to think for another moment: "You're right Elizabeth. This might indeed be our only option for now. And Pete, please get me the latest information from the Defence department. I'd like to know wheter our satelites have seen troop movements along the border on the island." - "Yes sir."

Elizabeth went immediatley to work. She had almost made it to the door when the President called her. "Yes sir?" she replied. "Please also let our Consul-General know that we are looking into this and also tell him to inform the authorities that you are on you're way there. Stay safe and keep me updated." President Hoekstra replied. "Yes sir, I will" On her way back to her car she called van Amstel: "Louis, I guess I got some news for you. I'm comming your way. Tonight! Which means that I will be there tommorow. Could you please go to Government House and personally inform the island government that I'm coming and that I look forward to meet them. Maybe we have an opportunity here to mediate and talk all parties out of this crazy idea to go to war." Not long after the Consul General and his diplomatic security detail stepped into their car and made their way to Government House.