IC: Things to do in Caracasus before you die. (MT/PMT - Dip)

[Flauc]

STATE OF FLAUC To: National Democratic Republic of Menthi From: State of Flauc Greetings. Asia is filled with very heroic nations. Our people are ready to give their lives to fight against communism. It does not matter if they are peaceful, communism is an obstruction to developement and economy. Cardulan is an ally ours and they know about the retaliation. They will not do this. They rather ally with us than Caracasus. SACTO is not scared to remove enemies, especially communism. If needed, they might help us with supplies and mercenaries. You are mistaken. Flauc researches modern and efficient technology and attempts to put it to work. Our forces would like to know how much people participate in the riots usually. Big crowds? Small but organized? Godspeed, Ministry of Foreign Affairs Gaimu-shō 外務省

[Significance]

After many hours of not making heads or tails of the cryptic Carosian letter, Penny and Borris had been told by the Caracasusian embassy they were staying in to contact the Qouris University who might be able to find someone to help them.

“Hmm. This is interesting. Very interesting”

The expert recommended by the University of Quoris was a man who had dedicated a considerable amount of time to understanding the peculiarities of the peninsular.
Sanjay Bashir leaned back in his chair. Called up a translation of the letter.

The Zaria must slaughter the Pig-men and eat their hearts. Only then they find the strength to defend what is rightfully theirs.

“That could refer to any number of potential candidates – the forces of Significance included. It follows the same pattern as the rest of the letter. A parable or fable. Again we're seeing some peculiar phrases cropping up... let me see...”

The lands in the east would go to the chieftain worthy of taking them. Three blessings were loaded into heavy rail cars and driven to the Zaria. And to his soldiers the Emperor said.
"Leave the world of the Zaria. The Sun and the Eagle have asked me to respect their will. I am the Sun. I am the Eagle. Leave your weapons behind for the people will need them.

“Hmm. More peculiar. It appears that he has granted the Zaria something... land I imagine. Now Marduk doesn't often refer to modern technology or techniques, or if he does he does so obliquely. This comment here about the heavy rail cars I am inclined to take literally. He is giving three blessings. That must be loaded onto trains”

“Any idea what they could be?” asked Penny

Sanjay shrugged. “Anything. Marduk considers the most unlikely things to be blessings. It could be a nuclear warhead, or it could be thirty tonnes of foodstuffs. I rather hope the latter”
Sanjay called up another section of text.

As he spoke more Pig-men came from beyond the sea. They wished to buy land and they wished to buy air. They wished to buy trees and they wished to buy souls. They wished to buy and they wished to sell and all the while they were making sounds like little piggies. So the Emperor spoke to the men with the skin of the color of pigs

“I can tell you right now, this is a refusal to sell. For money at least. Later on he calls the pig men – no offence – dishonourable. I would be very concerned. If Marduk considers you dishonourable he will have no problem at all with betraying you. On the other hand, this next paragraph makes me think that he will keep his word. No guarantee mind, don't come running to me if you wind up with your insides removed and sewn onto your face.”

“Is that likely?” asked Borris

"Let's say there is something of a precedent”
Sanjay was quiet for a while.

“He is referring to the Steps – or Stairs of the Jaguar. A formidable mountain, near Jarka on the Carosi side of the border. Air currents and updrafts mean you can't get an aircraft close enough to land – even if there were anything to land on. He wants something else as well – Boris must climb the Steps of the Jaguar and must give him a wife. Then you'll get – whatever the hell it was you were asking for.”

"Thank you Sanjay, you have been most helpful" said Borris, holding out his hand to the man.

Sanjay didn't seem interested.

"You know, I find it peculiar how a man like your Governor 'Peace', could become so ill as to not be able to run his country after a defeat which while major didn't actually have that many deaths. Perhaps you know more about the man to explain this".

Borris didn't have a good answer for this. He was lucky Penny interjected.

"While we would love to chat more, we must be off. People to see and all. Thanks again for your help. Come on Borris".

And with that the two quickly left the room, Sanjay watching them with a knowing smile.

Once outside, and with the door firmly shut behind them, Penny turned to Borris.

"So, what now Boss?".

[Tekeristan]

Nanjiwa Negotiations
Sorin Groza

---

Sorin was frowning as he was packing his various items, pushing papers roughly into their right folders, counting his pens, just before neatly pushing the mess into his leather briefcase. He had clicked its latches shut just as Joseph, King of Watersville, approached him.

Sorin looked up at the feeble man, blinking his eyes in surprise. But he smiled soon after, leaving his briefcase on his table as he turns to face the man.

"Sorin, my friend, thank you for attending." Joseph smiled in return, extending a firm hand forward. Sorin reached forward, firmly shaking Joseph's hand as he nodded.

"Same to you, Joseph." Sorin spoke clearly. Joseph nodded in return as his hand returned to his own briefcase, a few moments of thought crossing his face. He opened his mouth to speak, pausing, before continuing. "Where will you be going to after this, Sorin?"

Sorin nodded his head. "Returning home to Tekeristan. Should have a little break after this.. Much desired, I assure you." he nodded, face serious. He sighed softly, looking at the Flaucanese as they began to filter out of the room. "I suppose we should get going here, soon."

Sorin walked with Joseph after he insisted, although he didn't mind too much - the man was friendly enough, a rare occurrence in this god-forsaken country. Joseph waved a random taxi as it passed, quickly stepping into it. Sorin blinked, almost outright shocked at the apparent lack of security. Although, to be honest, Sorin was on edge - this nation and its radicals would not be kind to his health. He sighed, slipping in to sit beside Joseph.

"This is.. Something.." Sorin mumbled to Joseph as he shut the taxi door, leaning forward to slip the driver a small bundle of bills.. He then leaned back, looking at Joseph. "Not exactly.. Secure, if you will."

Joseph simply smiled at Sorin's pouting. After a few moments of silence, as the vehicle began rolling, Sorin spoke up. "Would you join me on the first flight west, Joseph? My private aircraft, if you will. Someplace we can.. Talk." he looked forward at the silent driver, frowning to himself as he held his briefcase to himself. "So.. How's the weather?"

---

Karthos
Costin Gabor

The situation in Karthos was dire - for a shroud of darkness has covered the once proud city. The proud smiles of workers, the laughter of playing children, & the youthful songs of students had all disappeared when the flag of Jarka flew. The community meetings were replaced with lines at the local military offices, where young men, students, were forced into the engines of oppression & depression. Instead of volunteers that cleaned the streets with whisks of humor and laughter, they were replaced by the desperate, forced to work for even the most basic aid access - hoping that each brick they lifted didn't give way to a hidden bomblet that would force their children into begging.

In this absence, this darkness, of hope - even the slightest flicker of light was captivating. The news of the freedom march spread like a fire, carried by the whispers of secret meetings, the homeless, and the fearful. As the fabled day approached, the stir of a different feeling began to collect in the air.

Costin brought his eyes up to his office door as another bundle of papers slid through its slot, followed by the quick sprint of one of the young tunnel couriers as they ran back to the safety of below. With a small sigh, Costin pushed his chair back and went forward - grabbing the stack of papers. He thumbed through the stack, frowning softly. He tossed it onto his cluttered desk, stepping over to sit back in his chair. Another band of letters, he would have to read them tomorrow.

He mumbled softly to himself, a slow hand going up to massage his drooping eyes. He blinked softly, looking back down at the stack before him. His trashcan was filled with empty ink cartridges. He had worked constantly for the past day and a half, stamping hastily printed papers & working with his loyal few. There were more than a few artists and former community leaders that were willing to work loyally for him in exchange for properly stamped papers & rations. So far, they have proven effective in distributing the news of the march - leaving behind spray painted markers & contacting old community leaders. These sparks alone have ignited a flame Costin had not expected. In the end, he did supply what everyone of Karthos wanted, hope.

By now, the power of the situation was out of Costin's control. Tomorrow, he would begin his march - wearing the flag of Tekeristan on his head. He shook his head, trying to remove the jade eyes from his vision.. What if they opened fire? What if they .. No.. He would have to face it, he is to far to turn back now. The people needed a march.

Costin laid his head down on his desk, deciding it was best to get some rest for the day tomorrow.

[Caracasus]

Editorial in a popular Caracasusian newspaper following the fall of Karthos

We have betrayed Karthos, and now we must make amends.

Karthos in ruins


Karthos broke away from the failed nation of Menthi in a practically bloodless revolution. Trade unionist agitators, intellectuals and farming co-operatives had been working in conjunction with sympathisers in other nations. Following the chaos of the fall of Menthi, they acted quickly, seized control of the means of production and established worker's councils in every workplace.

A structure emerged to usher in a new era for Karthos, at a cost of a handful of broken bones and a few bruised egos. Karthos ranks as one of the least violent revolutions in history. With a neighbour to the south that provided developmental aid, Karthos should have succeeded. Why did it fail?

It had no military force to defend itself. This only came as a surprise to us because we have forgotten our own revolution. A revolution such as the one in Karthos is immediately assaulted by those whose vested interests lie in keeping the working classes under control. When propaganda fails, then military and economic threats are used. When these fail, no war crime is too hateful, no act of slaughter too stomach churning, when it comes to reasserting the dominant ideology of the oppressing class.

We forgot our history. After the Nineday War, the provinces of Caraca that would later form the United Socialist States of Caracasus were in sore need of development. Instead, vital funds were diverted to the purchase of frigates, the establishment of military training schools and the development of a home grown arms industry. Why? Because we feared, quite correctly, that battered and bruised as the great empires of the day were, they would attempt to crush our revolution. Now those empires lay forgotten and Caracasus stands strong. We must not forget the part that military might, and the will to use it, played in protecting our nation.

Only a hypocrite could claim otherwise. The ideal of a bloodless revolution followed by a pacifist state was an impossible one, and unfortunately one that many Caracasusians were only too happy to go along with. Perhaps if they had looked at their own country, had examined the development of the PD fighter planes, the GAUSS projectile, the T.U.S.K destroyer and Pachyderm battle tank they might have thought otherwise. Our country only dismantled its nuclear weapons programme when it became evident that kinetic orbital bombardment provided a much greater deterrent.

Is Caracasus's armed forces one of invasion and offensive war? No, it is not. This is evident in the vote given to individual soldiers as to whether they wish to participate in a military conflict. It is an answer to the problem faced by our society – an existential threat. We may only ignore it because we have diverted precious time, effort and intelligence to our military power. There are a multitude of enemies who would rather see us wiped from the face of the earth.

This is no more evident than in the Flaucian delegation's refusal to answer a question posed by Sanjay Bashir. Sanjay Bashir asked if they would support a regime as horrific and objectively evil as Carosi over anything resembling a Socialist state. He was met with silence. Reports of Flaucian being spoken among the members of the mercenaries who launched a dual attack on Karthos in alliance with Carosi have given us their answer.

---

Malsti, unknown location


That “New Radar Dish” smell...

Commander Patrick of the Caracasusian Air Force viewed the plans. The recent shelling by Carosian forces, and the chemical attack on Heppgatti had placed the entire country on alert.

The network, referred to as “The Net” in correspondence covered a sizeable chunk of the mountain tops. Redundancy was the aim of the game – any particular subsystem in the defence of Malsti would quickly be replaced or taken up by another system.

The stubby barrels of the GAUSS platform proved an incongruity to the beautiful jungle that surrounded his small base of operations. In their hurry to reinforce and update Malsti's defences, the thing smelt faintly of oil and packing foam. His defence was the immediate line of defence. If anything managed to pierce the missile shield designed to eliminate threats at 400KM, it would have the Sickle missiles to contend with at 200KM. Anything that somehow survived that bombardment would be for Patrick's GAUSS platforms.

The Caracasusians and Malstians worked hard, but with a sense of routine. Malsti's defences had withstood the artillery barrage from Carosi. In spite of the high alert, in spite of the squadron of Caracasusian gifted PD fighters on patrol (here Patrick was thankful he was not a Malsti pilot) and in spite of the darkness of the jungle on the Carosian border... no-one truly seemed to think that Malsti would be attacked again.

---

Caracasusian Embassy to Cardulan.

Yohan smiled. “Indeed. I have heard of the four hundred” Yohan referred here to four hundred Tekeristani soldiers taken as Prisoners of War by the Northern Alliance. “As for your request for Caracasusian oversight...”

Yohan thought a minute. “Listen, I am attending an opera tonight in Tarbad. I think you should come along with me.”


The Opera House at Tarbad

Yan sat with Yohan in the booth, Yohan watched the stage, apparently immersed within the opera.

It appeared to concern a minor lord from a noble but poor house. The lord found himself at odds with a decadent alliance of barons and lords who paid lip service to the kingdom they swore allegiance to, whilst mocking the church and the throne behind closed doors and plotting with a foreign power that had promised them riches.

During the intermission, Yan stayed towards the side of the gilded foyer. The sound and chatter from the bar was loud, but drowned out his thoughts, for which he was momentarily grateful. The “Great Game” was one that was only played when one had fully learnt the rules. Yan appreciated Yohan's offer to attend the opera. It provided insights into Cardulan that no amount of dry textbooks could do. Yohan talked, animatedly with several Cardulan officials and generals.

The poor but noble lord had many rousing arias and speeches. The opera concluded with a large battle in which the lord lay mortally wounded. He was carried by his grieving, only daughter to see the sun dawn on the country he had tried to save from treason. In the last act the daughter took up her father's sword and armor, led her forces in fighting the remnants of the armies of the treacherous lords and leading their forces to victory.

Yohan spoke to Jan on the way back to the embassy. “That went... better than I hoped.”

“How so?”

“I think that Cardulan would consider the release of most of the prisoners of war, excepting of course those guilty of war crimes. I hope my interpretation is correct, but I feel that Cardulan wants an end to the conflict as much as Tekeristan.”

[Menthi]

The march in Karthos is a march of protest. It is a march that The Retirada supports fully and unconditionally.

At present, our society is under the gravest threat any society could face. Soldiers with guns and biological weapons have unleashed a plague on our city and slaughtered those that would stand against them. We face a foe who seeks no less than our complete annihilation.

The stand you are planning to take against the tyrant is noble and fierce. The name of Costin Gabor will go down in history alongside names such as Draymond and Keynes. Men and women who stood up to a tyrant and faced down the paper tigers that beset them.

At present, the bulk of the armed forces of Karthos lie within Quoris or within the mountains of Karthos. We cannot, and at this time should not provide military support. The march will be one of peace, members of The Retirada that join your march will be unarmed.

Our demands are simple, and will be stated clearly on our banners:

Immediate and fair elections.

Immediate referendum on Karthos's independence.

At present, with the dissolution of the Carosi backed mercenaries – The Military Front for the Liberation of Menthi, Karthos is without any rule except that provided by the armed forces of Jarka. Do not mistake this weakness for a cause for hope. It is when the reactionary is at its weakest that it is most brutal. Ensure that as many marchers as possible carry recording devices. We have it on good authority that volunteers from Caracasus will be in attendance, as well as various media communes.

For peace, socialism and Karthos!

The Retirada.

[Caracasus]

---

To: Flauc
From: Caracasus Council Elect

---

Regarding your recent communication.

It has never been, nor will ever be the policy of Caracasus to block the distribution of needed aid supplies. We are slightly confused as your communication appears to suggest otherwise.

Flaucian freighters will be given docking permission for Quoris City. As with any consignment destined for a conflict zone, the aid shipment will be searched thoroughly to ensure that the aid provided is for humanitarian use only, and that it is of sufficient quality. These are the standard checks required for all humanitarian aid, as outlined in international and national legislation.

You may wish to provide additional manpower for the unloading of said humanitarian supplies, as well as transport. You will, unfortunately not be able to use the heavy lifting equipment at the docks, so the process may take a little longer than previously expected. We enclose a pamphlet produced by the united dock workers communes in Quoris that may clarify why this is the case. It is, of course, the right of any commune to refuse a request.

With regards,

Caracasus Council Elect.

Dock Worker's Communes decree – We will raise exactly one finger to help Flauc!

In an emergency vote, all six of the dock worker's commmunes in Quoris City have voted to not provide unloading and logistical support for Flauc's latest attempt at adventurism on the Peninsula.

Chair of the meeting, Pascall had this to say in a closing statement.

”The votes are in. Representatives from the Six have placed their statements and the ballots counted. It is the opinion of this committee that Flauc's continued adventurism within the Peninsula, its refusal to denounce the governments of Menthi for their actions and its rocket attacks on Carosi have done nothing but destabilize the region.

We will not be part of Flauc's efforts to garner good publicity by unloading or transporting their supplies. They have left two countries in ruins and now wish to be given a pat on the head for providing a sticking plaster to cover the gaping wounds their careless actions have caused. We will not stop the docking of Flaucian ships, we will not stop them being unloaded, but no Caracasusian cranes will aid and every dock worker in Quoris will be raising exactly one finger apiece to assist them.”

[Significance]

Official statement from Significance

The situation in the penisular, we feel, has reached a true stalemate.

Karthos may have fallen, but it is likely that won't be for long. They tasted freedom, and now they want more.

On the back of this, the Zaria have risen up in the hopes of achieving their own freedom.

In Jarka however, their is a regime that wishes to crush all in it's path to 'unite' Menthi again.

But I wonder, what Menthi is their truly left. Jarka took the step of moving on from the quite frankly lazy Nina, but it was a step backwards towards an aggressive leader in Alvarez.

It is this change that has further pushed Jarka away from the times.

At present, only two nations stand behind this failed ideology of uniting Menthi under Jarkan rule. Flauc and Parsoh.

We ask such nations to reconsider their standing. While Karthos is like a itchy red blanket to them, and a united Menthi is the only way forwards for them, is it right to deny others freedom because some people are stuck in the past.

By realising that Menthi as a whole cannot exist, we can all move forwards in helping those who have decided their fate how to run their seperate countries without turning into failed states like Menthi of old did.

Surely, it is better to be strong and divided, than weak and together.

And Significance is not alone in this belief. I can not think of one other nation who supports the new Jarka regime bar the two mentioned.

It is time to move on, time for democracy, for freedom. Surely, we should work together not for one regimes goals, but the goals of the people of an area, because these lives are children, wives, husbands, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, just like rest of us, and its them who matters, because in the end, we are all them, as we they are us, and their opinions should matter most.

Consider what really matters,
Yours sincerely advisor Borris.

[Watersville]

Near Nanjiwa International Airport

Joseph smiled as Sorin entered the cab, clearly shocked at what they were about to do. Technically, they wern't diplomats anymore, so Joseph decided to travel much like he always did. He felt almost like he had just been released from prison. The two discussed many topics from economy, to space programs, to even the weather. Joseph kept the conversation as far away from the Iberis Peninsula as he could, not wishing to discuss that anymore. Joseph looked out across the plains as Sorin proposed that Joseph fly with him to discuss more things. Joseph chuckled a little bit. "I thank you for your generosity, however it would be much quicker to catch a flight to the south east to get home. Again, I thank you." That was when his phone began buzzing rapidly. He groaned, which caught Sorrins attention as Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache came over him. He knew he had become pale as Sorin stared back in shock. Joseph felt sorry for the man, "poor guy," Joseph thought, "He must think I am about to die." Joseph spoke up as Sorin watched. All he could do was to hand over his phone with the news up of everything happening in the country, from the resignation of President McClaw to the new news story that was displayed.

Waters City Times

---

BREAKING: Protest turns chaos as gunmen strike, death toll set at 46 but expected to rise higher, 3 arrested.

Domingo, Watersville

A large protest of about 1000 people turned chaotic as three men opened fire upon the crowd. The death toll has already rose to 46 and is expected to rise much higher as more information comes in. The three suspected gunmen were taken into custody nearby with weapons still on them. Police say that at least 5 police officers were killed while trying to apprehend the suspects, who were not arrested until they ran out of ammunition. This incident has already sparked numerous protests across the nation as a national poll now finds that over 75% of people do not feel safe with recent events, such as the WASPS attacks, the hostile take over of the City of Karthos, which had given up armament, and the recent attacks in Domingo. The poll also showed that a shocking 55% now support the legalization of weapons and the formation of an armed forces. Police are still trying to identify the reasoning behind these attacks, and we will keep you updated on this evolving situtation. With the Waters City Times, I'm Scotty McHughes.

Aid Clinic 5, Near Peni, Menthi

The clinic was run just as every other clinic was across the region, basic necessities were provided, if they were available. Doctors came and went and saw every patient at least twice daily. There were not many hazmat suits, but many volunteered to go without, many of them being doctors without spouses and children. Many things were being attempted, with the patients permission of course. From what they could tell, no big breakthroughs had occurred. The doctors started a blog detailing what they were testing to try to help those around the globe see what had and hadn't seemed to work. It was all they could do for now, and it had only been several hours.

[Caracasus]

The Pan Peninsula Football League

Parsoh's Emerald Stadium has been the scene of many riots over the last few decades.

Formed in 2010 after the dust had settled on the last Peninsula War and the countries of Malsti, Carosi, Parsoh and Menthi were formed and ratified in the treaty of 2010, the Pan Peninsula Football League (PPFL) was introduced to “celebrate the finest cultural traditions of the Peninsula in a friendly, sportsmanlike competition” to be hosted every three years.

Its critics state that “In the finest traditions of the Peninsula” the league has become a cesspit of bribery, illegally chemically enhanced athletes, petty rivalry, political point scoring, corruption, xenophobia, excessive alcohol consumption and levels of violence and rioting that take a destructive toll on the city hosting one of the games usually only seen following a major natural disaster or war.

The following teams play within the league, which pits teams from the four contries against each other in an increasingly convoluted and Byzantine system of play-offs, tornaments, qualifiers, octofinals, hemifinals, semifinals and finals.

---

Parsoh

AGM Conglomerate United (Parsoh City)

GLS Securities and Investment (Port Parsoh)

F*** yer **** yer ***** - (Tortuga -currently under permanent ban – see timetable below)

Menthi

Peni Wanderers (Peni)

Jarka Saints (Jarka)

Karthos United (Karthos)

Carosi

Carosi has only ever forwarded one team to the league.

Bringers of the blinding sun of the God Emporer Marduk III, first and last of his name, lion of the plains and protector of the Zaria United (Carosi)

Malsti

Spirit of Mathdisu (Mathdisu)

Malsti City Revolutionaries (Malsti)

Heppgatti Harriers (Heppgatti)

---

Timeline of noteable events and offences

2010 – The PPFL is formed. Riots consume Parsoh city during finals. 234 wounded. 43 dead.

2013 – Parsoh's qualifying team is removed of its title following drugs tests that showed the urine samples provided by its footballers to be “A pale blue colour, faintly luminescent and reacting to a Geiger counter”. Parsoh strenuously denies allegations of illegal chemical enhancements.

2013 – Parsoh's Emerald Stadium rebuilt following 1993 riots.

2016 – After qualifying, Malsti refuses to play in Menthi's Diamond Stadium unless all advertisements are removed.

2019 – following a spectacular incident, Tortuga's team are reprimanded after abducting a referee. The referee was found abandoned on a deserted island 450km north of Tortuga.

2019– League referees issued tazers and pepper spray.

2019 – Parsoh's Emerald Stadium is burnt down in riots again.

2021 – Carosi's one team causes a stir by wearing amulets containing dessicated, yet somehow still bleeding, eyes. A spokesperson for the League is forced to allow this as “technically no rule exists banning the wearing of terrifying haunted jewellery on the pitch” Carosi wins the league after the opposing Malsti team all suffer a series of mysterious ailments.

2021 – Riots in Heppgatti force Malsti to bring in humanitarian workers from Caracasus and Watersville to deal with the aftermath.

2021 – League referees issued sidearms for protection.

2024 – Parsoh wins following a legal action in which the legal representatives from Flywheel, Shyster and Flywheel demonstrate the existence of a “many-universe foul” - namely that the tackle in question likely caused damage to the Parsohian player in question in another parallel universe. Equally likely was a parallel universe where said tackle went unnoticed, meaning that in this current universe, the foul must be acknowledged for justice to prevail across all known and speculated space and time. The league at the time upheld the decision. Critics note that the League chief added another wing to his mansion shortly after the event.

2024 – Riots in Menthi following Parsoh's victory last for a week. 345 injured. 45 dead (estimate).

2027 – Malsti's Heppgatti Harriers coach forms a pact with the Karthos United team mid-game. The two teams work together to score as many goals as possible against each other – using a convoluted point based system this places the then hopefuls from Port Parsoh into fourth place.

2027 – Menthi's Diamond stadium is burnt to the ground in riots.

2027 - League referees issued with military grade body armor, tracking chips and "body doubles".

2030 – Tortuga's team disqualified following a refusal to abide by any of the known rules of football.

[Balagan]

Khassim walked up and down the room. "Well, we need to talk about the project." He took a long look at the Parsoh Sports Board before he did continue.

"You know that Jatti will win the elections, he runs unopposed. Well, at least there is no one who actually stands a chance." He watches the men watching him, smoking their cigarettes and thinking about their options.

"I have access to Mr Jatti. I can forward your questions and your worries. What I want you to do is to change just a tiny bit of legislation." He carefully carefully scanned the men for reactions as he knew that they were all aware about what would come next.

"I need you to change the statutes of the PPFL. When the next round of amendments is made I want you to change the regulations regarding foreign players from must not exceed 30% to must not exceed about 30%."

He observed the men talking to each other for some time before he did continue.

"My team, Olympic Parsoh, is not doing as well as it could if I could buy more decent players on the international market. I intend to win the championship this year and I think that the other teams would benefit from that rule as well. Just think about all the money available to Parsoh at this moment. We can buy all of the best players in the world at once. If you change that regulation we would all benefit. You would have the ear of the coming president and Parsoh would be among the leading football nations."

[Menthi]

Karthos, Military Governor's Office.

The Military Governor rifled through the paperwork his secretaries had prepared. Briefings, communiques from the NRP government... the list was endless. Here in black and white, printed on pulp quality paper was a reflection of the chaos that had beset Karthos.

Governor Pasquez regretted the need for force to subdue Karthos. As a military man he understood that on occasion it was necessary to use violence to achieve ends. As a father and a career soldier he believed that violence should only be used when to not do so would lead to something worse. Karthos was an example. If Karthos had remained as it was, Menthi would have collapsed.

Pasquez knew the figures, the production totals. Karthos's exports of manufactured goods, and the sugar plantations surrounding the city, funded the entire of Menthi. Without the sugar crop, the rum and biofuel churned out by Karthos, investment would dry up. Tax revenue would drop and the country's credit rating would plummet. Karthos would be independent at the expense of Jarka and Peni.


Plans of new developments for Karthos

Pasquez wished that the Karthosians could properly understand what Alvarez had planned. There were to be significant investments in agricultural methods. Foreign investors were queuing up to rebuild and modernize Karthos's distilleries. The export price of Menthian rum had already reached dizzying heights on the markets, buoyed by Alvarez's assurances and genius at negotiating foreign allies. Karthos had a real chance to become part of a united, independent Menthi. A bright future. What chance did it have otherwise? A satellite state of Caracasus? A tiny voice among millions?

Alvarez may be a little harsh, mused Pasquez, but that was what Menthi needed at the moment. Decades of languishing under an ineffective and increasingly isolated government had drained Menthi. Whereas previous governments had squandered Menthi's wealth away, Alvarez would build it up once more. Pasquez questioned some of his methods, but the man's motives and goal were truly magnificent.

TO: General Alvarez

FROM:Colonel Pasquez

Situation in Karthos

---

Internal Memorandum. Confidential.

The situation within Karthos City remains uneasy, as per my recent communication. There appears to be plans for a march in protest of the occupation and I am unsure as to exactly how your recent communications and edicts are to be implemented in this instance.

The number of peoples in Karthos who speak Zaria is relatively low. I would like clarification on the order that Zaria is not to be spoken. It appears to me, and my advisors, that actually enforcing this legislation would do more to unite the peoples of Karthos against us than stamp out Zaria populism.

In addition, a march has been planned. Agents loyal to my office inform me that this march will take place sometime soon, and is certainly planned as a peaceful demonstration. I must defer the decision whether or not to outlaw and halt this march to you. My advisors inform me that we lack the strength at present to halt this march without resorting to more drastic measures.

With deepest respect,

Colonel Pasquez. Karthos Governor's Office

Pasquez needed to get out of his office. His security personnel had made it evident that he was at risk in Karthos. As the military governor, he was very much the figurehead of General Alvarez's regime. They regaled him daily with tales of how many letter bombs they had intercepted – how many death threats he had received and seemed to take slightly too much pleasure in describing, in gruesome details, the contents of these threats.

His staff car, a discretely armoured vehicle, was waiting. His bodyguards sat to his sides as the driver pulled out and drove around those sections of the city still passable to traffic. The route took him past workers busy digging through the wreckage of the barricades. The work was slow – every inch of rubble carefully picked apart. The group that had assaulted Karthos had used cluster ammunition, causing unexploded bomblets to become scattered across the areas they shelled. The workers were careful, meticulous, but lacked the sophisticated equipment really needed for this job. Rumor was that such equipment was being delivered from the south – either from Caracasus or another nation. Robots, or specially trained bees and rats... something that would take the terror out of the job. Pasquez had read reports already of several workers blinded or crippled by the deadly explosives.


Workers clearing rubble

The Karthosian citizens glanced, some with hostility, in the direction of the car. No-one but the military could use automobiles within Karthos. The new emergency measure made little sense, with the collapse of Karthos there was precious little fuel anyway. The hostility was not geared towards him, he consoled himself. It was geared towards the armed occupation. He hoped that the people of Karthos would stay quiet, stay peaceful long enough to give Alvarez's reforms a chance.

The attack, when it came, was sudden.

“Governor... Governor... Can you hear me?”

A ringing in his ears. A chaotic flash of images and sounds. The bomb blast, smoke... two women wearing hooded sweaters brandishing short, stubby pistols...

“Where.. what?”

“Don't try to move. You're safe now. You're at the army clinic. Concussion, a few grazes, you will be fine Colonel Pasquez.”

Pasquez moved, looked around the sterile white room.

The staff car. Only meters from him, but so far away. Why had they left it? They should have continued driving. Should have....

A doctor looked at him sternly. “I have some security men here to see you. I've told them you are sick but they insist on seeing you immediately. About the attack I imagine.

One bodyguard lay crumpled, blood pouring from a gurgling wound in his chest – bright red in the dust. The other firing at the two women, hitting one. Fade to black.

The doctor had been talking, mostly to himself. Now he directed a question at Pasquez.

“Mister Pasquez. I am going to ask you a few questions. These are designed to measure your awareness and test for any brain damage, so answer as clearly as possible. Now, question one – who is the current ruler of Menthi?”

The laughter rose up in Pasquez like bile.

[Tekeristan]

"Those who make a peaceful revolution impossible will make a violent revolution inevitable." - John F. Kennedy

---

Karthos, Iberius Peninsula,
Costin Gabor Tekeristan Ambassador

---

Costin blinked. The alarm clock on his computer was blaring through the confines of the storage room stirring Costin from his slumber. He was grateful, blinking the image of the thousand jade green eyes into memory. Today was the day the day it all began. The room was nearly empty, even his desk only had his laptop on it now.

He slowly pushed himself off of his desk, standing up to slumber towards a lone cardboard box in the back of the room. He opened its loose top, pulling the folded flag of his homeland from inside. He grabbed the ends letting the other ends fall towards the ground. The Seal of the Otter & Star of the Republic glimmering in the light. He carefully folded the flag under his arm setting it aside almost as if he was handling a glass ornament. He then dressed, removing his several-day old garments.

Costin had saved his best set of clothes for this day, dressing what many would call their Sunday best. He wore a well tailored grey suit fitted with a dark grey tie. If he must pay the iron price then he should at least look respectable. He then turned gently grabbing the flag, pulling it over his shoulders and around his head - letting it drape past his shoulders and to his hips. He took a single breath, walking over to sit at his laptop.

He looked at the clock.. 7:38 AM.. It was time.. He pulled the laptop close, pushing its screen up. It was time, hundreds would be listening to his word. He stared at the program that was written for him by Karthos's technicians, ensuring probable access to a wide array of channels, as glimmers of uncertainty rose in his head. What if he didn't? What if he simply left.. Costin shook his head, rubbing his tired eyes for a few moments before looking back at the faint screen. He moved the mouse, taking a deep breath as he clicked 'broadcast'..

The timer below the button began, a small red light beside it. Costin stared, watching the seconds go by.. 1... 4.. 6.. He quietly breathed, staring up over his laptop at the grey closet door - taking a mere second to blink in the image of the hundreds of pictures tacked to it, hundreds of people - the sick, the parents, the children. He stared at the distant dot of emerald as he leaned forward, and began to softly speak into the microphone.

"Karthos." he flatly said, letting another few seconds pass silently. On the other end, his voice was slightly modified - a minor static and blur to allow him some plausible deniability - all while remaining understandable to those that listened..

"Karthos is not just the name of a city.. It is the name of a people.." he continued, softly speaking. "A peaceful people, a people who - despite the challenges that faced them in the past - stood with a proud smile that welcomed all. The people of Karthos roamed the streets with a smile on their faces & pride in their hearts - for they knew that the dream of Karthos, a dream of democracy, community, & peace, would never perish from this green Earth.."

"Yet.. Karthos lies under the heel of militant oppression, kicked into the dirt by those who have only known violence - unknowing that the violence they have brought have taken sons from mothers, husbands from wives, and brothers from brothers.. These aggressors, these conquerors, they are skilled in the art of violence - but the people of Karthos have a secret weapon that these conquerors were not trained to fight.."

Costin took a moment to breath, realizing he was starving himself. He took a sharp breath.

"Like the great Gandhi and Martin Jr. King we must reach out to all peoples, militant or not, citizen or not.. This was a peaceful city, with a peaceful people. We must teach these conquerors, these aggressors, the way of peace - we must show them that even NOW the Karthos people stand united behind their dream! This is not a conflict that will be won with weapons of war, for there is no victory nor honor in destroying more families, in destroying more homes, and laying the seeds of destruction upon these lands.. No!"

"To win this conflict the people of Karthos must stand united, strong, & with humility! Many of these soldiers are fellow Menthians, some are even sons of Karthos itself, but all are fellow humans - drafted into the machines of war. These soldiers, these people, are not the enemies of Karthos - for the ideas of oppression, hate, and discrimination are the true enemies! Bring out the trumpets, the drums, the bells, & play the music of Karthos in the streets, raise the banners & flags, sing, dance, march, smile, all of which the Karthos people have done before the occupation! No more blood should be spilled!"

"So, great citizens of Karthos, now is the time for your peaceful stand! Those following Alvarez regime can try to stand against us, arrest us, push us - but even after the jails have over flown & beatings ensue, the march of Karthos will continue unimpeded - shining as the brilliant soul of its people. Sit out the junta buildings, fill the streets with your marches & songs, paint the walls with your art, & evacuate those that need it most. But most importantly, non-violence. Resist, but do not hit -- Resist, but do not fight. Disobey! Sit in! March! For when they try and arrest you, lay on the ground! Today's world is modern, broadcast this peaceful revolution for all to see - so the world can see the bravery of the Karthos people! I speak to the people of Peni, the people of Jarka, all those seeking change to gather and march for change!"

"In the words of John F. Kennedy, we shall also do our part to build a world of peace where the weak are safe and the strong are just. We are not helpless before that task or hopeless of its success. Confident and unafraid, we labor on - - not toward a strategy of annihilation but toward a strategy of peace. In the chapter of Matthews 5:10 - Blessed are they that have been persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

"First, we must rescue those that need it most - the elderly, the sick, the wounded, and the afraid.. Bring them to where help awaits, Caracasus - the aid camp, open these paths so that all people may heal. I will personally join the Freedom March of Karthos, for we shall walk the streets of this scarred home - together. I ask all individuals across Menthi in support of democracy, freedom, & equality to take to the streets and join the peaceful rebellion against those that wish to inflict rule with an iron fist - I speak to those of the armed forces, drafted to fight, to protect the innocent & to stand for justice! For in the end, we all seek a peaceful existence - an existence that can only be achieved through peace itself."

Costin ended the tapped broadcast, leaning back in his seat - blinking steadily..

Moments later, his door was opened - dragging his eyes from the hundreds of photos. It was Chief Ander, covered in a cloak.

"It is time." Ander muttered.

[Caracasus]

Parsoh City – Emerald Stadium

The glare of the lights burst through the twilight gloom, illuminating the futuristic blister of the Emerald Stadium. The pitch below seemed miles away from the four spectators. The players ants. A thousand advertisements for a hundred thousand sponsors flashed momentarily across the holoscreens projected above the pitch and to the side. The roar of the crowd took on a life of its own, the chants from Jarka's supporters filled their ears as the team filed onto the pitch. A cry rang up from the Peni supporters, divided from the Jarka supporters by a thick line of armoured militia, grim in riot gear. Two heavy duty water cannon stood – one at each end of the pitch. A matte black militia helicopter hovered above, droning like an insect.

The cries from Peni's supporters as their team – The Peni Wanderers – filed out cut through the perpetual fug of cannabis smoke, steam from a hundred vendors and the loud din of the crowd.

“We don't want the Jakar wankers here to stay!
We don't want the Jakar wankers here to stay!
We don't want to be defended
By an army that surrendered!
When the Bull fought on and saved the fucking day!”

A straggle of Jakarian supporters broke through the militia line, spurred on by just enough alcohol and plenty of righteous fury. Reserve ranks of militia jumped on them quickly before they could reach the opposing side.

Birla was explaining to Seb the intricacies of the Pan Peninsula Football League. She was forced to shout over the din.

“You see, this is the first level qualifier for Menthi. After this the winners go on to the octofinal”

“unless their average point total is below that of the lead qualifier from Parsoh” added Keynes

“Yeah, unless that of course. The loser then goes on to the playoffs, where if they get enough points they proceed to the regional playoffs. Then..”

Kjell came back, cradling the drinks. Muttered about the cost. The plan had been straightforward. There were two factors to consider. Firstly, there were reports of something strange – stranger than usual that is, taking place in Parsoh's famed commercial and financial districts. Secondly, a member of the Balagan Trade Mission had begun to leak information to a Caracasusian handler. The second matter was one that required almost immediate attention – the “spy” was an almost complete novice – what little she knew about espionage appeared to be garnered from popular fiction and movies. She needed to be contacted, and given a crash course on surviving.

The first matter was more straightforward to start on – in some respects. The Pan Peninsula Football Leauge would guarantee their passage into the financial districts and legal system in a manner that would not raise undue suspicion. A fight was more or less guaranteed at the qualifying match, especially following a last minute change to the rules that barred teams from fielding more than 30 per cent non-native players. Tensions following the recent armed conflicts ran high between Jarka and Peni.

Keynes, Kjell, Birla and Seb had covers provided for them by International Observations. They were a group of investors from a Yohannes based company, here to take in the sights and culture of the Peninsula. Following the inevitable riot they would instigate a legal claim against the city of Parsoh, as many did every time the riots hit, for damages. That would be their path into Parsoh's convoluted legal system. From there... from there things got trickier.

A penalty kick had been awarded to a Peni Wanderers player. The referee, dressed in heavy riot armor and flanked by two steroid enhanced security guards, huge chunks of meat with piggy eyes peering out from behind plastic visors, backed away from the pitch. The crowd swelled like a tidal wave, chunks of plastic seating scything through the air...

Seb cracked his knuckles.

“Think it's starting...”

[Watersville]

Near the Nanjiwa International Airport, Flauc

As Joseph and Sorin came closer to the airport, the atmosphere became more tense. Joseph looked around as the city buildings came and went. He could not understand what the signs on the road said, however he could tell what some of the things were, as some of the signs had little symbols on them, such as a little airplane that he guessed meant the airport. They soon, as he had guessed, arrived at the said airport. Both men exited the vehicle before shaking hands one last time and grabbing their bags. They then headed their separate ways, Joseph going to catch his public fight home. He soon reached the gate, looked down at his watch and boarded his Watersville Airlines flight to Waters City International, expecting to arrive home soon.

Outside of Karthos, Menthi

Hannah watched as the men reached the car and asked to see their passports. Hannah quickly got hers ready and handed it over to the man. She noticed that Frankenstein had pulled out a British passport, but she decided that it was probably better to keep her mouth shut. The guard looked at them and back down again. "Watersville? What are you guys doing out here at this time of night?" Hannah spoke before Frankenstein could make some kind of snarky remark. "Well, you see we have been traveling for at least week or so from Peni trying to get this antidote for a poison at the clinic." The man just shook his head in understanding. He turned to the other men and turned his finger in a clockwise circular motion. "Their good to go." And with that, the two were off again. Hannah soon realized that that was, in fact the border crossing between Menthi and Caracasus. She looked at a slip of paper that had the name of the antidote, placing her finger on the paper. "It says on here that it should be available at any specialized medical center. They soon found their way into a parking lot of a large medical clinic.

Later that morning

Hannah awoke to find that the clinic was bustling with activity. She quickly woke Frankenstein up before speaking. "This must be one of the regional offices. It is going to be extremely busy." She looked down. She never realized until now how dirty she was. She had mud and grass stains all over her shirt and pants and still had several blood splotches from the aid clinic. Frankenstein couldn't help but give a smirk as he noticed what she was doing. "Aw. Is poor miss little princess afraid that she isn't presentable. Would you like me to find you a shower or a washer and drier. Hannah just glared at him as he burst out laughing. Frankenstein continued, "In all seriousness, are you ready to go in?" Hannah shook her head yes and opened her car door.

soon afterwords

As they entered the lobby, the people closest to the doors turned and stared at them with disgust on their faces. Hannah looked down and wondered if she really looked that bad. She quickly looked down and grabbed the paper out of her pocket. They then got in line, much to the chagrin of those standing there. She kept looking around as the line slowly made it's way to the counter, with the line continuing to grow behind them. Finally they made it to the counter. Hannah noticed that the lady behind the counter was facing away from them. "Hello, how can I help you..." As the lady turned around, her eyes grew wide and she stopped mid sentence. Hannah didn't know what to say. She must have had a look of disparity on her face because she looked over to see that Frankenstein was holding back a laugh. She shook her head in disapproval and smiled at the lady across the counter. "Hello!" The lady looked at them in surprise. "Rough day?" Hannah looked up at Frankenstein in disapproval as he began to laugh. "More like rough week." She continued to look between the shocked lady behind the counter and Frankenstein, whom for some reason found this situtation funny. Everyone was staring at them like they were mad. "Yes, it has been a rough week. Listen." She now leaned on the counter as Frankenstein watched and the lady took a half step back. "I have almost been killed in gunfire and a brushfire in Peni, I have been kidnapped and almost murdered by a cult, I have not been able to relax over the past week as we have been traveling across the nation of Menthi. I am tired, and I just need to help a patient, however I know need to travel back across the entire nation of Menthi. So, yes it has been an incredibly rough week. Thank you for asking." The lady looked shocked back at the two of them. "Ok, so what do you need." Hannah pulled the paper out and slipped it under the glass protection in between them and the lady. "That is the prescription that we need filled."

Several hours later

They had had to wait for a couple hours to get the supplies that they needed at the clinic and we're finally ready to make the trip back to Peni with all of the extra supplies in the back. Now they just needed to make it back in one piece.

[Caracasus]

The Monastery of St Peter, Occupied Menthi

Toad had been the first through the door. The first to play his torch over the... thing that lay in the middle of the chapel. The Geurillas and Salamanders filed in, almost reverently, to gaze at the monster. Fully sixteen foot from end to end, the creature's fur was matted, black in places. Wires sprung in a cluster from the base of its skull, crisscrossing its back and burying themselves in nodes up and down the behemoth.

It looked like a bear. It had a bear's skull, poking yellowed bone through matted fur and metal. Bears did not grow this big though. The thing was clearly dead, its skin clinging to it, sloughing off in great chunks. The air stank of formaldehyde, or some similar preservative. Eft, the smallest of the Salamanders spoke up. He was one for whom subtlety and stealth came as naturally as breathing. The others turned, surprised somewhat that he was there.

"Could it be some discarded experiment? I mean, it stinks of preservatives, and there's those wires..."

Wells finished sawing through a strap of leather around the bear thing's neck. "If it is, there's more than one of them at the very least"

The collar read Ursa 1. "Why call it bear number one if you're not planning to make more?"

Loach spoke up. The Guerrilla cleared his throat frowned. Chewed on his lip as he puzzled out the words.

"Bears are... um, apex predators. I remember, there was a rumor a decade or so ago, do you remember the Kartakian Cities?"

Toad nodded. "Yeah. Cardulan nearly deployed troops there, after... well, you know."

Loach carried on. "Some of the scientists, after Kartakia fell, apparently they sought refuge in Carosi."

Eft nodded. "The Heresy - you mean?"

"We called it something else, but yes, the Heresy. Part of their concept, their idea, was the idea of the perfect specimen. Something to replace conventional soldiers. Something that couldn't tire, wouldn't feel heat or cold until it dropped dead, wouldn't feel fear... the ultimate warrior."

The Guerrillas and Salamanders stood, silent. As soldiers they knew how many battles and wars had been won, or lost, due to morale. The idea of a soldier who felt no fear... that would be a potential game changer. Both nation's armed forces had used, and continued to develop, robotics, distancing their fighters from the front line...

Loach continued. "They experimented on apex predators. Tigers, bears, lions... The aim was to create almost a blank slate - a machine of muscle and sinew - with a still working brain to control it all faster than any computer program could learn to do. Then you add a fairly simple set of directives and instructions, wired up to the pleasure/pain centers of the brain..."

"Well" spoke Azimov, "I think this certainly adds weight to the argument that these scientists reached Carosi..."

"There's something else." Loach spoke. "There's another apex predator that the scientists began to work on. An adaptable, agile ape with excellent eyesight, oposable thumbs and depth perception..."

Eft grimaced, his thoughts going somewhere deeply unpleasant. "Man. You're talking about people aren't you? They did this to people!"

"They may still be doing this to people."

Wells' head span. He needed to collect his thoughts before he spoke. The monastery was miles away from anywhere. It possessed natural defenses, high mountains as walls and a great thick gate. If you were to begin testing some twisted hypothesis, there were worse places to start, but why was there no scientific equipment? And what exactly was the damn bear thing doing?

[Caracasus]

Council Elect buildings – Jevellit Metropolitan District

The debate had raged throughout the day. More militant factions that had formed within the Council's ever changing structure of alliances. Viewing figures were considerable, many communes had closed for a period, with referendums expected on the issues at hand it was by no means a law but certainly expected that Caracasusians took the time to watch the ongoing debate before making a decision.

One stood up, addressing the assembled representatives.

“I say to my comrades here that our reluctance to intervene has cost yet more lives! When are we going to learn from our history? There are times when violence is most certainly the answer – and when a new socialist society a stone's throw from our border finds itself under utterly unprovoked attack, that is the time! We should have acted – and acted decisively. Our armed forces could have secured Karthos and now? Now thousands march to Quoris, patients with a deadly, contagious disease have been scattered across the peninsula.”

He closed his speech. “History repeats itself, we know this. First is a tragedy, the second time as a farce. Oehiton was a tragedy. Our response to Karthos a farce.”

Shouts of dissent, agreement... order called.

“I think my comrade here forgets that at the time of the attack, Carosian planes had dropped an unknown biological agent on Karthos?”

The debate continued. What was clear was that Caracasus would have several thousand new refugees from Karthos to contend with, an unknown number of whom infected with the same disease that the scientists of several nations were trying to develop a cure for. So far, with limited success.

---

Mandalores – Orisio Province

Mandalores was the second largest city in Orisio. The Orisio Province was mountainous, full of rich mineral seams and ores that had fueled Caracasus's burgeoning industries in the previous decades. Now though? Environmental regulations and strict quotas under the Long Term Materials Plan had shut down significant amounts of Orisio's mining industry.

The people had not suffered much in a material sense, there was no starvation, no homelessness with evictions and all that came with it. There had been minor hiccups with the redistribution of resources, but nothing major - certainly nothing life threatening. No mass unemployment – though certainly unemployment was higher in Orisio than other provinces.

Still, there was unrest. It was Orisio, with its people attempting to adjust to communes that conducted reforestation, light industry and tourist concerns rather than deep excavation, that had seen the rise of the CAJ – the militant arm of Caracausus's right wing movement. It was Orisio that had seen terrorist attacks in the past, and Orisio – with its economic upheaval that had spurred a rise in dissatisfaction with the Council Elect and the United Socialist States of Caracasus as the young men and women of Orisio sought their destinies elsewhere.

Already this year, sixteen illegal mining operations had been closed down. People had been using the Grand Trunk railway to smuggle raw precious ore and stones from Caracasus to the international market.

Within Orisio, CAJ was making its presence felt again. Foreign investment in the movement had appeared from somewhere, forcing it back into the public gaze with printed fliers, professional web pages and a strong internet presence detailing the arrests of the illegal mining operatives.

It was feared that a rise in CAJ might lead to bombings and attacks like the ones in recent decades – when the CAJ had detonated an explosive device on a train, causing mayhem and havoc. IntSec personnel had been sent to the region, to guard CAJ's usual targets – police stations, Industry and Trade distribution hubs and local council chambers.


The last time CAJ action took place in Orisio..

---

Caracasus International Observations



A perfectly ordinary office block in Jevellit Metropolitan District. I assure you, citizen, there's nothing of interest behind those doors. Now if you'd move on please...

“She knows literally nothing about espionage”

The topic for debate was the recent “asset” Caracasus International Observations had acquired.

“I'm serious – she's learnt everything from films and books – her idea of a secret rendezvous was originally an abandoned warehouse...”

The agent let this sink in. The fact was, abandoned out of the way locations made the worst places for a clandestine meeting. Nothing said suspicion like a normal person breaking with routine to drive halfway across the city to a place they had no business being. Agents met in pubs, cafes and restaurants - at plays and movie theaters. Shahbaz, the personal secretary to Khassim, Balagan's head of Trade in Parsoh was a highly intelligent woman, however she was out of her depth.

“Our contact has been helping. Steering her towards more... conventional channels.”

A plan was discussed. During the next meeting, it would be suggested to Shahbaz that she took dancing lessons at a school in Parsoh. It had been judged, given her personal profile, to be an activity in keeping with Shahbaz's personality and one that would not arouse suspicion. Should anyone trail her to the school, or observe her there, they would spend an hour or so observing a perfectly ordinary dancing school that focused on the Peninsula's unique dances. The infrequent meetings after the dancing lessons between students for coffee, or a bite to eat in one of Parsoh's many eateries would be where the exchange of information would take place.

Another matter was raised. A contact within Flauc had gone dark. Codenamed “Blue”, the man who had reached out to the Caracasusian embassy had missed his latest three meetings. It seemed likely that he had been discovered. His fate? Unknown.

---

Open waters – Freighter Klepiti – bound for Yohannes

The Freighter Klepiti was bound for Yohannes – bearing the fruits of many nations. Electronics from Balagan, Flaucian consumer goods, Opplandian furniture and Caracasusian medicines. All would find their way into Yohannes.

The Flaucian known to Caracasus International Observations as “Blue” winced in pain. His ribs were no doubt broken, it hurt every time he took a breath, as if some great fiery fist was clenching his sternum. He breathed shallow, rapid, until the pain passed. Clenched his teeth. The jump from the loading crane had been, on reflection, remarkably stupid.

He had food enough for several days, water could be scavenged from the toilets. The freighter carried a crew of three, with space for triple that number. The deck that Blue would be living on until the ship made port was for all intents and purposes, abandoned. He merely had to sit quietly and wait.

On the bridge, the captain flicked through a paperback. The truth was, the humans on board the freighter were only really present as a contingency. The damn ship sailed itself, or near enough. The tug of the freighter, and the rocking of the waves cast a sort of hypnotic influence over the three crewmembers and the one stowaway.

---

Quoris City - The Hypothetical Zone

The designated unloading zone for Flaucian vessels took up an extra three berths. The freighters bustled with activity as IntSec personnel combed every inch of the vessels and prodded about the supplies. They were not rude, however they certainly ruffled feathers. The Flaucians were not used to this level of scrutiny of their cargo. The Council Elect claimed that extra security had been implemented as the supplies would be entering a war zone.

To most Flaucians it was perceived, rightly or wrongly, as an insult. The inferred meaning was that Caracasus suspected that Flauc would use the cover of humanitarian aid to smuggle weapons or other dangerous items into Menthi.

A ragged cheer went up from the crowd of dock workers watching the Flaucians unload their cargo. Two of the Flaucian sailors had dropped a crate of medicine, scattering its contents across the docks. The gathered dock workers watched, sipping tea or coffee. Some had bought BBQ's and the smell of cooking filled their nostrils. Tinny music blared from the dockworkers.

They called out helpful suggestions to the Flaucians.

"You missed a bit! Just there"

"Lift with your knees, not your back!"

"Nooo, Flauc isn't in that direction, it's the other way mate!"

The captain's blood boiled. They were here, busy unloading vital humanitarian supplies and had been met with nothing but scorn and derision. Here they were, saving lives - when every second counted and these assholes, these... tossers in front of him had nothing better to do than sneer and laugh! The captain was able to bottle his feelings. Some of his people were not.

A vial of medicine had rolled, somehow, across the concrete underneath the folding chair a Caracasusian dockworker was sitting on, sipping from a plastic mug. One of the sailors asked for the vial. The Caracasusian extended a middle finger in response. The sailor got down on his knees and rummaged around under the chair.

The Caracasusians started laughing. The Caracasusian sitting in the chair rested his mug on the head of the sailor. More laughter. The sitting Caracasusian beamed, widely at his audience. Another sailor yelled at the man.

"Take that mug off his fucking head!"

The Caracasusian grinned wider, and upended the lukewarm contents over the man's head.

That was when the fighting started.

[Tekeristan]

"The revolution has always been in the hands of the young. The young always inherit the revolution." - Huey Newton

Karthos, Iberius Peninsula,
Costin Gabor Tekeristan Ambassador

---

The tunnels beneath the embassy were, thankfully, dry. Costin clung to his flag as he was escorted through the tunnel, heading down the street. Preparations were already completed, whispers distributed, and refugees prepared - all they needed now was him.

The tunnel opened up to a room further down, the echo that once persisted was blocked by the bodies of a hundred - a hundred of Karthos's weakest. Costin stopped as he entered the room, blinking from behind his own sterile mask. The faces of the eldery, the children & widowed mothers, the disabled, the injured & sick - all faces hidden behind white sterile masks - yet Costin could see all their faces begin to wrinkle in excitement. It was time.

Their destination accorded to the rumors & hearsay that was spread over the past few days - Unula Le Guin Park, where Costin has planned a speech. Costin nodded his head to the 100 and turned around, motioning to Col. Ander. From beneath his own cloak, hiding his small arm underneath, he nodded his head and pulled a small lever on the wall.

The plan was simple. They were simply going to walk east towards the highway and turn up towards the park - passing by several of Karthos's barrios. The news of their march would spread faster than fire, and soon they would soon, hopefully, be joined by many more. The sick, weak, elderly, all those feeble & seeking help were instructed to wear sterile masks. Soon, they would find the help they needed at Caracasus or the Watersville camp.

Ahead of the group a thin & rusted garage door began to whine, picking itself up as it lifted - it was better to start here than from the embassy. Costin didn't turn this time, waving his hand over his shoulder as he stepped into the open street of Dolores Ibrarrurs. The hundred clambered after him, wrapped in red & the flag of Karthos, they clutched their folded banners & instruments in their hands. Some struggled for breath, others had a distant gaze - they all knew it was time.

[Menthi]

Karthos – the march to peace

Military Governor Pasquez watched from the balcony as the sombre crowd strode through the park. Banners snapped in the crisp wind. Here and there the Tekeristani otter. Costin, the Tekeri ambassador appeared grim, dressed in grey. His suit had already accumulated a thin layer of dust. It hung over the city, falling on everyone – irrespective of nationality or belief.

A few Caracasusian flags blew in the breeze, the golden elephant on the green, red and black. There were a few chants from the crowd. People watched from balconies. A few joined the throng, then a few more. Some had to be helped, the young – the old.. the infirm.

The Retirida joined in larger numbers, flowing in like tributaries into a river. They symbolically carried no banners, only the red square of Karthos's brief revolution. Rubble blocked the route on several occasions, the crowd pausing to clear it where possible, or streaming through side streets where the obstacles became impossible. A burnt out armored truck, or a collapsed building.

Pasquez was reminded of the retreat from Parsoh. The captured city, over two centuries ago now, had held out longer than expected against the invading armies of the Empire. They too had marched, after the fall of Parsoh. He imagined the crowd would be similarly composed. Those too ill or hungry or desperate to do anything more than seek shelter elsewhere.

Pasquez was flanked by six new mercenary guards, sent especially from Jarka. These men spoke little Menthian. Their eyes were stone. Gazing at the crowd. Weapons by their sides. Soldiers guarded every major building, snipers on rooftops.

Pasquez had his orders from Jarka. He watched the march. Waited.

[Tekeristan]

“Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
Patrick Henry

Karthos, Iberius Peninsula,
Costin Gabor Tekeristan Ambassador

---

Things felt different at the front of a march. Up here there were no backs to follow, no banners to read, or even foot steps in the dust to follow, only the path that laid ahead. Despite standing side by side with an elderly former community leader, his arm linked around his to assist his walking, he felt strange - a rolling feeling deep inside him..

Memories of his dream began to surface - the girl with emerald eyes.. He tried to blink them away, only to find them hidden beneath his eyelids. Why were they everywhere he looked?! He focused his mind, counting his steps as he looked ahead.

Noticeable progress has been made - news was spreading through the city faster by the second. By the time they had reached the Barrio of Stephan Biko - small groupings of people cautiously observed from the balconies & small occasional streams slid in behind to join. Costin heard the distant murmurs of chanting began to whisper through the group, and it didn't take to long for Costin to notice his own hums slipping from his lips to join.

However, it was when they reached the barrio of Rosa Luxemberg when things became more interesting.. Passing north through the only wide street, avoiding the eastern barricade, Costin was met by lines of individuals edging the sides of the street - watching the march with eyes both curious & distantly hopeful. Nonetheless, it was unknown to Costin now of how many people - feeble, young, or strong - were beginning to gather, but one thing was clear - the murmurs were growing in strength.

With a turn of the crowd the highway ahead was slowly coming into view, a straight shot to the Unula Le Guin Park itself. Costin began to hear the sound of a trumpet close behind him, as a musician, paralyzed by the recent conflict from the waist down and unable to work, began to play her instrument.

[Flauc]

QUORIS CITY DOCKS

---

---

Welcome to Quoris City. The city itself was beautiful, it looked similar to Jevellit, except being smaller in size and not being the capital city of Caracasus. Caracasus was the beacon and holder of socialism and communism on the Iberis Peninsula. If, perhaps, Caracasus were to become anti-communist or if it were to collapse, Malsti would most likely collapse or would be attacked.

Next to the waterways was a large port. In fact, it was most likely the largest port in the Iberis Peninsula. It unloaded thousands of tonnes in a day, and the capacity kept on growing. This time, it was to be used for humanitarian aid by Flauc, to deliver it to Menthi.

The sailors approached the large port. It seemed amazing from the distance, tens, if not, hundreds of cranes were standing up in the sky, with some most likely having a person inside them, unloading or loading cargo. The cargo boxes themselves were different in size. Different items were stored in these cargo boxes - electronics, cars, anything. The boxes were in different colors, from the sky they must look like a child just grabbed his pencils and placed dots on his paper, each representing one cargo box.

Their ships slowly sailed closer and closer, as well as slower until they stopped and docked. The problem was that Caracasus Worker Communes decided they won't help Flauc unload humanitarian aid, and on top of that, they presented the 'middle finger' to the Flaucese people. It was such a disgrace for a nation of this caliber to let it's people to just simply deny help, and to let them laugh in the faces of millions.

As the ships docked, Internal Security officers 'evacuated' the ships and flooded the cargo area of the three ships. It was disappointing. Not only did it take up time, but it was also an invasion of privacy, as well as this shew that Caracasus was suspecting that Flauc could use humanitarian aid as a cover to deliver weapons to Menthi. It was a false accusation, at least this time.

The Internal Security men left the boats, it was time to unload. The Flaucese men flooded the cargo pods. The cargo was extremely heavy and needed multiple men to carry it. Why? Because Caracasusian Workers Communes had decided to say "no" to helping with cranes to unload, as they would usually for anyone else. What a disgrace.

Men from the Caracasusian Dockers Commune had come up and surrounded the unloading Flaucese. Didn't they have work to do? Most Flaucese assumed that the Caracasusians were either on break, or were slacking off because welfare is going to feed them fat anyways. Due to the anti-communist posture in Flauc, most assumed it was the latter. If you came to Flauc, people expected you to work hard, people wanted you to earn stuff. If the state just kept on filling the belly of everyone, either they work or not, then what is the point of working?

Anywho, the Caracasusians were eating and laughing. The sailors could smell cooking, some even felt hopeful that some would be given to the Flaucese themselves, but this hope was most likely fake. They were there to laugh at the Flaucese, who were unable to quickly unload because the Caracasusians couldn't get some cranes or people to lend a hand. Some Caracasusians were nice - they helped the sailors. But most were just provocative.

Similar like provoking a fight.

One sailor went to pick up a vial of medicine underneath a Caracasusian's folding chair after the man sitting on it himself said he won't help. After that, the man humiliated the sailor in front of the eyes of the other Flaucese. Instead of the other Caracasusians discouraging this behavior, they gave a round of applause and laughed. This is when most begun to crack their knuckles. Already annoyed by the behavior of the Caracasusians and their hostility, they screamed at the man humiliating the Flaucese sailor.

"Take that mug off his fucking head!"

Screams erupted from the Flaucese sailors. The man sitting on the chair crossed the last line. He dumped over the hot liquid over the Flaucese sailor, and laughed with the others in joy at the Flaucese sailors and their friends.

"That's it!" said the sailor under the chair, who was now soaked with whatever liquid the man on the chair was drinking.

The Flaucese sailor under the chair got his adrenaline pumping. With the chants from the Flaucese sailors, he grabbed the legs of the flexing chair and tipped it over, forcing the man that poured the contents of the mug on the sailor to fall down - the man hit the Flaucese sailor in response. The Caracasusians then went to assist their friend.

This, sadly, caused a chain reaction. Sailors from the Flaucese side went to assist their own friends, and slowly, tooth began to fly and blood was splattered on the pavement of the docks.

"MISTER BLUE"

---

---

The atmosphere in the ship was relieving, but at the same time, painful. With no medical assistance, he wept in pain. He did not know what was going through his head when he jumped off the crane. All he knew that the ship was already sailing out, and it was the last one of the night. If he would have not jumped, he could have been arrested and sentenced for treason then next day. He knew that he was now, a traitor to the state. But at the same time, it was necessary. Flauc was no longer the peaceful and stable democracy-loving nation. Flauc went through multiple instabilities in the 20th century, such as coups and assassinations. The government passed more and more privacy infringing bills and policies, to the extent that the police and military were even more powerful than the government.

It wasn't so bad that Flauc was hostile to communism - that he did not mind, but the treatment of the communists was horrible. It's not that the government wanted to treat it's people bad, rather, it did not want to reform, it wanted to keep power. This power was kept through another "red scare" and propaganda.

The Flaucese Police is corrupt beyond anything imaginative, with rumors being that the police is worse and more corrupt than the gangsters and mafia in the poor areas of Flauc. Anything could be taken care of with a few hundred Flaucese Rin.

Why did Blue decide to inform Caracasus? He thought Caracasus was the only country he could inform this of without having the country rat him out if Flauc were to ask for an extradition. It was inevitable that the "Blue" would be arrested. But "Blue" wasn't stupid. He knew he had to get some help. If he sided up with Caracasus and provided them more intelligence, then he would prevent Caracasus from ratting him out. Blue was indeed patriotic, but he did not believe revenge against the communists was necessary. Rather, he felt that countries should forget their past and should look to the future. Once, a Tekeristani diplomatic message said: "The nations of today should not be responsible for the mistakes of nations of the past." and he took this dearly to the heart.

---

Before

He left his home and went to work. Everything seemed as usual. He did not appear to the Caracasusian meetings because he was still analyzing the information he had. Approaching the meeting room, he suddenly stopped. He could hear his management team speaking inside. Ideas such as "Why are they this early?"; "Am I going to get fired?" and "Are they waiting for me?" went through his head. Deciding to listen in, he heard that there were news that he would be arrested tomorrow because he was a traitor of the state and was co operating with "communist revolutionaries". This did shock him - how did they know? However, it was unusual to go to the Caracasusian Embassy. It is probably how they knew, so they followed him and probably listened on to their conversation. Mister "Blue" knew well about procedures in the Police, since he had inside friends and informants, which helped him gather intelligence and get the information he had. It seemed like there was an investigation regarding this, and it was concluded.

Blue was to be arrested. He felt even worse because he eavesdropped on his employers, which is disgraceful. The cameras, surely, already saw Blue enter the building. Instead of getting in the meeting and waiting for him to be arrested at night or tomorrow at work, he sprinted outside of his building and ran home. Exchanging messages with his informants, he confirmed the news. He would be arrested, he was a traitor. This pinched his heart. He asked his informant to send some gigabytes of classified information in exchange for a few thousand Flaucese Rin. The gigabytes flew in. He downloaded them on one of his 'reserve' laptops in case for emergencies if the other one broke, and grabbed his briefcase. He stuffed in documents and the laptop, and checked the website of the Nanjiwa Port. It's where he would run.
He ran outside of his building, forgetting everything else. He did not have a wife or a family, he lost connection with his family after he moved to Nanjiwa from Saruwa. At family meetings, he felt like a stranger, so he stopped going. He sheltered down in Nanjiwa and began working as an military intelligence worker, occasionally handling top classified information.

Running down the staircase, he tripped and got a bloody nose. The suitcase, however, was alright. He sighed and quickly pushed the button next to the door and swung it open, running towards the docks. Luckily, the docks were close to his home, only about two kilometers. The bad side was that when he saw the docks, the police patrol outside of them tried to stop him as he ran inside the docks, probably assuming he wanted to break in and steal something from the cargo. The police then quickly informed the port authority and was probably waiting to move in itself after it would get permission from the port management, which would assert the situation soon. The police probably didn't think the running man was carrying gigabytes of classified information, because if they would, Blue would already have been shot to prevent the leak of info. In emergencies, police had all of the authority to enter the port, but this time, it wasn't known if this was an emergency or not. Blue was already out of breath, but he had to continue running. As the car began to close the distance even more, the flashing, yellow lights of the port authority car flashed against the walls.

"STOP RUNNING! YOU HAVE NO REASON TO RUN. WE WILL ESCORT YOU OUTSIDE OF THE PORT! THIS IS PORT AUTHORITY!" screamed one of the officers in the car from the loudspeaker.

If he stopped, he would be searched by the police patrol that would most likely arrive to assist if he would stop running. Gigabytes of classified information and a man running towards a port would certainly raise some eyebrows, and would most likely end up with him getting arrested and trialed, no matter what money sum he gave, because this was not just some petty crime - it was treason.

Running away, he saw an opportunity. He remembered from the "Nanjiwa Port" homepage it said that the last ship was to embark this night from Flauc to Yohannes. Why was this done? It was to ease communications so foreign ships would know that there is gonna be a ship from Flauc to Yohannes. There would be no need for extensive communications and preparations. People at the harbors would already know when to enter the ship and when to unload it.

As he remembered the information, he never thought it would come in handy. He saw a ship - it also had a 'FLAUC-YOHHANES' sticker on the side with pretty big words. This was, surely, the last ship. And it was already sailing out! Looking to the right, "Blue" ran to the crane and quickly climbed up on it. The port authority had to leave their vehicles to climb up the ladder, and it would take more time than "Blue" would need to climb up the crane. The police car seemed to get it's clearance and entered the port. This could be proven by the now flashing red lights quite far away.

Climbing up he lost a lot of breath. However, he quickly ran towards the end of the crane, and without thinking, jumped in the direction of the Yohannes ship. Now, it was pure luck if he would land or not. Lucky for him, he did. As he fell down onto the rock hard deck, he could feel his bones crack. It would be harder to move. However, he was certain that neither the police patrol or dock authority saw him jump off. He would most likely be assumed dead or disappeared. But tomorrow, there would probably be extensive searches, manhunts and news articles about this "hardened criminal" who he was.

---

Present

Remembering what happened, he checked his laptop and briefcase. Both of them somehow survived the fall. "Blue" slowly doze off to sleep from the pain. Tomorrow, he would most likely be discovered by port authority in Yohannes and would probably be taken to a hospital, along with his classified information. However, knowing the rights of foreigners in Yohannes, his laptop data and briefcase documents would not be searched, at least, he hoped so.

KARTHOS CITY MARCH

---

---

Karthos was and still is in a period of instability. With the recent conflict scarring the city, construction workers from Flauc and Menthi did their job for multiple hours to clear the debris and barricades, some even required EOD teams to be dispatched to remove the scattered bomblets. Construction vehicles were a common sight, as buildings were being either refurbished or reconstructed to modern standards - some apartment blocks were in construction. Private property was now legal, and Flaucese businesses took the chance and invested in Karthos, opening shops and other private institutions.

There were rumors between the Flaucese Infantry Brigades and Battalions that there would be some kind of march in Karthos that would go towards the Caracasusian border and then would leave. It was later on confirmed by the Alvarez government that there was to be a march and it was advised to intervene. Flauc would intervene, but not how most would expect. Instead of arresting and firing bullets at the peaceful protesters, the Flaucese Battalions that would be detached from the Brigades would escort the protest to make sure that no outbreak of violence begins.

The soldiers would walk next to the protest with guns. However, these guns are the ones used in riot control. They had rubber bullets, and while they could be lethal, they would be used in case a riot or violent clash needed to be controlled. They also had pepper spray and riot shields. Walking next to the march, they would escort it to the Caracasus border and then would co operate to get these people quicker into Caracasus, to make sure it stops being a problem of Menthi.

The soldiers did not wear the standard military uniform though. They wore NBC suits to protect themselves from the infection, and they also would try to stay far from the sick. There would be a few men with loudspeakers, and they would release messages to the marchers that they will not be attacked unless the marching protesters attack the military first, and that the soldiers are only wearing NBC suits for their own protection from the disease.

The march started. In their gear already, the soldiers marched outside of their garrisons or barracks, and walked towards the march to escort it, with the message specified before being said through the loudspeakers by a few officers, pointed at the people marching.

Flauc and Menthi did not want to prevent the sick and disloyal to leave, rather, they wanted to exact opposite. Having more people equal more problems and dissent, and having a city full of infected and old people isn't good as well.

[Tekeristan]

Carosian Bacteria - tinted with dye - undergoing a currently unknown process

---

Careful research was a grueling process, a war of attrition between steadfast patience & rising urgency. Processes needed to be observed, re-observed, and re-re-observed. Tests needed to be repeated, re-repeated, and then reviewed before being sent to be re-reviewed.

The Carosian disease, a bacterium, was no different. It was resilient, its secrets locked behind its protective membranes. It was a unnatural, no doubt, its fine tuned symptoms much to potent & strange for any natural sickness. Coined 'Car Sickness' by Tekeristani scientists outside the professional environment - it was without a doubt one of the most dangerous diseases held in some of Tekeristan's remote laboratories in the Carpathian mountains.

As Tekeristani doctors, once laboring away inside the city of Karthos, returned once more - after passing through quarantine alongside migrants - they brought with them looks of despair and worry. The war of Karthos did more than shatter buildings & roads, it destroyed a meticulously designed network of containment & study. It was these doctors, of whom risked their lives every day in their studies, who supplied a majority of samples & data to the labs. But with its cage opened, the Carosian sickness was once again on the offensive. The doctors knew this, lived with it.

But onward they labored, laboring in their remote labs & meeting rooms, hoping for a miracle - something to save the Iberius.

---

---

Citizens Civil Art Museums & Exhibits planned to open as Tekeristan Parliament continues to support Civil Workers Administration



'Drifting Reflections', created by Ameli Consata under employment of the C.W.A, soon to be seen in public exhibit in Constanta

---

Tekeristan - The Tekeristan Parliament has passed another bill expanding support for the Civil Workers Administration - a government program of employment - to further combat rising unemployment to combat the formation of poverty. With increasing numbers of citizens & migrants joining the C.W.A, the additional grants have proven to be near essential in the expansion of the Administration.

Critics of the Civil Workers Administration have expressed concern about the current costs of the program, which has begun to push the country into the red. The Tekeristan government has begun selling bonds and additional segments of its gold reserves, as well as increasing cuts on areas such as healthcare & education in an attempt to better balance the budget in light of budget shortfalls due to economic recession & minor tax cuts. Ion Ponta, the Tekeristan Prime Minister, has stated that the nation will need to 'hold on' in the up coming months until the situation can stabilize & recover.

The C.W.A has begun several large-scale projects with the recent increase in funding & manpower, stating that there is 'always work to be done' - and they aren't wrong. The C.W.A has begun several large efforts across Tekeristan. Activities range from the construction & maintenance of infrastructure, community & urban beautification, culture & artistic support, and even large scale environmental projects.

The ambitious C.W.A employs from nearly all walks of life, including artists. In an act supported by the Tekeristan Parliament, in an effort to 'preserve, expand, and diversify' Tekeristan art & culture, the C.W.A has begun public work projects to establish a new range of art museums and galleries across the nation featuring the work of many of the nation's artists currently employed by the C.W.A. Efforts in community & urban beautification are also prevalent, with increasingly large amounts of community art, parks, and authorized graffiti.

One of the most ambitious projects currently underway by the C.W.A, in cooperation with the Ministry of Natural Resources & the TEDEC act, is the large-scale removal of invasive species, expansion of green energy, and preservation & restoration efforts - such as restoring large tracks of the Danube delta. Large areas of the Danube are already under protection, however with rising concerns of environmentalism becoming even more prevalent it is expected to fall under additional protection in the following months.

With increasing popularity of the C.W.A across the nation, as well as increasingly difficult economic struggles, the Tekeristan Democratic Socialist party has been seeing large increases in public support over the past month - and are expected to gain seats in parliament upon the next election cycle.

AAN news

---

[Caracasus]

Caracasusian embassy to Cardulan

“Preparations are underway... although they will take considerable time” Yohan moved to a more comfortable position on the library's old, antique chair. “The same problems keep on cropping up however...” He drew out a series of legal documents. “The soldiers and sailors in question are held at one of the colonies. It is not a pleasant place, very cold. I doubt however they will be mistreated. There is, as always, a sense of honour in these dealings.”

Jan gritted his teeth. “It's seen as a great victory, I know that much. They feel that their capture and imprisonment is just, is an example of righteous behaviour. To imprison people without trial... without their status as prisoners of war!”

Yohan sighed. “They were not, technically, enemy combatants at the time. Now, you are correct – it was seen as a victory but... memories are remarkably short and fickle. Especially when the millstone of the profit motive hangs over every publication. There are many, a growing number within the Cardulan administration who see these prisoners as more of a burden than a sign of victory.”

Yohan strode across to the antique globe and depressed a button on the side, revealing a well stocked drinks Cabernet. “Brandy? It is rather good. It's a shame my homeland never really got to grips with producing quality alcoholic drinks.” He poured three large glasses. “Now, this camp where most of the Tekeristani prisoners are kept spends approximately two hundred percent more on security and personnel than any other in the realm. The guards are under strict orders to ensure that prisoners do not attempt escape – to do so requires almost one guard for every five prisoners... it is not economical and there is a growing feeling that it is an endeavour that many would like to end.”

Jan nodded. “My nation has made considerable efforts to abide by the conditions laid down by Cardulan. We are this close to guaranteeing some level of peace and communication. It has been a hard sell, though. A tricky business – there are many in Tekeristan who see the recent agreements as a humiliation. We need a symbol – something from Cardulan... these prisoners could be that.”

Yohan drew deeply on his drink. “I understand your situation. I am hoping to get an audience with The Queen shortly to discuss developments on the peninsula and the possibility of ratifying certain terms of several treaties. I will bring up the possibility of an amnesty for the Tekeristani prisoners. An act of benevolence. Hopefully her inner council will be receptive.”

---

Teflidi City – Cosifio Province

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

The commune was under licence from Industry and Trade to produce armour for Caracasus's tanks and Elephant Hide battle suits. Involving artificially generated spider silk, thin layers of explosive material, graphite crystals and ceramics, the factory was largely automated. This was not unusual, the commune was something of an oddity however – it was bound by a secrets act and had a permanent armed guard.

The islands and peculiarities in sea current ensured that the weather of Cosifio was significantly worse than that of most of Caracasus. The rain slanted down in a curtain of water. Splashed off the shiny armour of the impassive guards, turned the facade of the gated commune into a waterfall. Soaked the protestors at the gates.

Placards ran in the rain, messages of peace, of disarmament. Sign of a growing division within Caracasus between those who felt military intervention necessary and those who remembered Oehiton and other conflicts Caracasus had involved itself in.

Songs and chants sprang up from the protestors. Many of the speakers were veterans of one conflict or another. A woman, dressed in the uniform of the Caracasusian Armed Forces spoke out.

”We are beginning to believe the same disastrous lies that we believed about Oheiton. That war is inevitable. That Caracasus has a duty to intervene, to drop bombs, to kill and to die for a cause. I was there. I was there when the aid camp was shelled in retaliation for the build up of Caracasusian forces. I was there at the Demilitarized zone, the battle for Alfsund... and where exactly did Caracasus succeed? We succeeded when we negotiated peace. We succeeded when South Cardulan declared independence.

Where are we now? We have decided to withdraw from peace talks. We have decided to move our fleet on manoeuvrers, deliberately provoking another nation. We have decided to support Malsti's increasing militarization of the Peninsula. We must stop, we must begin to engage again with other nations and develop a multilateral peace plan.

We seem to have short memories here in Caracasus. Who here remembers the disaster that was the first Peninsula war? Are we really ready to repeat the same mistakes that were made then?”

The woman received a ragged applause.

[Watersville]

Quoris City Hypothetical Zone, Caracasus

The aid ship had just pulled in and the newly arrived doctors began to unload their things as one of the dock yard communes came over and greeted the group and began to help unload things. Many of the doctors, however, were not prepared for the sound of great commotion just down the dock yard erupted. Many dropped everything and rushed to find an extremely large brawl taking place. As soon as enough of the doctors had arrived, which took a good ten to fifteen minutes, they began to try and separate the groups. Eventually, with the help of the local police, the group was able to form a line in between the groups. After the fight, it was found that multiple people were seriously hurt, including several Watersvillian personnel. After beginning to treat those that were in the worst condition, the ambulances began to arrive. It was decided that to protect those involved that those from Caracasus were to be taken to one local hospital while those from Flauc were to be taken to a different hospital. The injured from Watersville were then sent to Aid Camp Quoris near the border where the aid group would reconvene.

Terkistani Embassy, Karthos, Menthi

Enough people had left that the group didn't even notice the two Watersvillian Aid workers who stood still in the corner and didn't move until after a couple minutes after the group had left. They knew that they might be able to get back to the camp easier if they went with the crowd, but they didn't feel safe to them. After the group had left, they quickly made their way out into the street and instead made their way north to try and find the camp.

Meanwhile at Aid Clinic Karthos

Kirby froze as he received two pieces of news. The first was that 5 Watersvillian aid workers were missing, possibly split up during the bombings. The second was the news of a march that was occurring across the town. He placed a hand up to his head and began massaging his temple. "Well, we probably need to begin search efforts for those missing and we need to make sure we have ample room for anyone from this march who wishes to stay here or who is to weak to walk all the way to Caracasus." The camp began to change as they awaited the newcomers that were bound to come.

Waters City, Watersville

Waters City Times

---

Happy Watersville Day! What you can do around the nation to celebrate.

Watersville day has come around once again, and this year things will definitely be different after many of the events that have taken place across the globe and across the nation. Here is a list of events that have been planned so that you can find something to do today while the nation is shut down in a medical emergency.

1. Celebrate at home with a barbecue.

Although many of you have not been able to travel around, many have still been able to get to the market. Therefore, start by celebrating at home by cooking a meal and enjoying each other's presence.

2. Play some games together as a family.

Many have plenty of games at home that should be sufficient enough to play and to enjoy with the kids.

3. Watch special programs at home.

Make sure that you keep the television turned on to ensure that you keep up to date on all the special events that have been planned across the nation. Stick around for some of those events!

4. Rocket launch live on television.

Make sure that you are watching as history unfolds tonight as the newly formed Watersville Space Agency launches their first rocket into space. Updates on the rocket launch should be given every hour or so, so be on the look out for that.

5. Firework displays.

After the historic launch make sure to keep tuned in for the firework displays that are set to be shown live across the nation. (Hint: The Watersville Public Broadcasting Station is planning on rebroadcasting the Waters City Fireworks right after the finish so that people can watch both the Waters City and Cardinal City firework displays.)

6. Get ready to vote tomorrow.

I know that this won't be until after Watersville Day is over, but tomorrow's elections are going to be extremely important, and I suggest that you get out and vote if you can, especially with the large referendum on it about the formation of a defense army.

[Menthi]

General Alvarez, head of the NRP.

General Alvarez had the following letter distributed to every home in Menthi. Those who could not read were able to watch, or listen to, television and radio broadcasts that duplicated the contents of the letter.

Dear Citizen,

I am firmly committed to the principles of democracy and the rule of law that has long been upheld by the fine nation of Menthi. The plan outlined by my late predecessor, General Nino has not changed, Menthi will have free and fair democratic elections at the earliest practical point.

It is no secret that we are currently experiencing the greatest crisis our nation has known. The criminal damage caused by the communist coup in Karthos has set back our nation's productivity by decades. So called “Zaria” lawlessness in Peni has claimed the lives of countless citizens. Fortunately we are closer than ever to uniting Menthi once more in strength. The communists in Karthos have fled and Peni once more has risen the proud banner of our people.

I am ever thankful to our allies from Flauc. Without Flauc, our nation would have floundered. Menthi is strong, but has been beset by foes innumerable. The Caracasusians under the loathed “Cult of Ganesha” wish to pollute our economy and steal the best of our youth for themselves. Malsti launches unprovoked assaults on our airspace, Parsoh threatens invasion once more and Carosi still illegally occupies Menthian territory. Our allies in Flauc have helped us stand firm against these terrible threats, and continue to do so. No other nation has acted with such resilience and bravery and it is for this I award the Flaucian administration with the highest honour that can be bestowed upon an non-Menthian. The Order of the Golden Saint.

Flauc has promised aid in reconstruction efforts in Karthos and Jarka, as well as a squadron of interceptor fighters so that our airspace will remain under our control. Menthi has been beaten, has been invaded and plundered but we have fought on. We drew a line in the sand and stood firm. We said no more, and with the resilience, strength and faith of our people we have once more gained our independence.

This day will be marked in history as a national holiday – a day that will remind us in generations to come of the great sacrifice made by our people and the importance of eternal vigilance against the numerous foes that may beset us. The war of Menthian independence was won today. All that remains is to drive Carosian forces from our borders with our newly equipped armies and air force.

It is with this in mind I turn my attention to the promised elections. Any political party is free, within reason, to stand in seats. In an effort to truly reflect the will of the people of Menthi, there will be one hundred seats within the new parliament. The old parliament and boundary lines allowed for corruption and hindered the good governance of Menthi. With this in mind, new boundaries have been constructed for a new, streamlined government.

Taking into account recent census records, fifty will be for the city of Jarka and its surroundings. Twenty will represent Karthos and its surroundings and thirty will represent Peni and its surroundings.

The following changes to the Menthian Constitution have been bought into effect regarding new political parties.

1) No political party may stand on a platform that promotes Communist or Socialist economic and social policies.
2) Political parties may only represent ethnic or cultural groups recognised by the government of Menthi.
3) No political party may stand on a platform that promotes armed violence or other criminal activity to achieve its goals.
4) No political party may stand on a platform that advocates independence or secession from Menthi.
5) No political party may stand on a platform that acknowledges or gains influence from the Cult of Ganesha.

I would ask that you, citizens of Menthi join with me in prayer for the future of our great republic. The worst of our enemies lie defeated, but the struggle itself is a continual one. We must not grow complacent, we must seek to build upon what we have gained so far.

For a stronger Menthi.

General Alvarez.

[New Aeyariss]

*** Approaching Flauc

Demands of honor were not easy to be fulfilled - and especially not for Date Katsuyori. Coming from familly of long samurai traditions, now grouped in northwestern Nihon, in proud, rural mountainous lands that no longer were governed by, but strongly identified with the Date clan, Katsuyori developed a strong sense of duty. It was although unknown weather it was the duty or family custom that he enrolled into Imperial Nihonese army; after all, landowners from rural areas tended to make bulk of officer corps of the INA, many of them treating military service as a gateway to adulthood. This middle aged man finished his - but never decided to return to his lands, where a boring and peaceful life would have awaited him. Instead he chose to join Bushido Solutions Inc. - one of biggest PMCs in Nihon.

It was not unknown how quickly was the Nihonese military privatizing. Imperial Nihonese Army, on it's own, ran at least 3 PMCs, aimed at helping soldiers from allied nations in getting proper military training. But it were officially unaligned PMCs like Bushido that gotten the grand jobs. This enormous contractor conglomerate was in fact, one of major tools of the Nihonese foreign policy operating world wide, a good way of outsourcing plenty of localized regional wars of long duration to the private market. It couldn't be said that this corporation was fully private - citing the fact that if one traced all the dots, they would ultimately lead him to the fact that Maki Kojiro, Shogun of the Empire of Greater Nihon owns 60% of shares in their stock - with remaining 40% being owned by various less or known personas from SACTO leadership. He would likely also be able to realize that 80% of this PMC's personnel is made of reservists of the Imperial Nihonese Army - a fact easy to justify officially, which in fact turned this PMC into just one of many swords at Shogun's disposal...

After brief consultation with the flight tower, the enormous Ki-56 Ryusei that he was traveling in landed at the international airport in Nanjiwa, to reveal a middle aged, Asian man leave the plane. Although he wore only a civilian dress, one could instantly attach attention to his strong built, iron - like muscles with not a grain of fat, and calm, lifeless eyes of a serial killer. After passing quickly through the airport, the man gotten a car already waiting for him by local branch of Bushido and headed to previously agreed place of meeting with Rikishiman government.

After all, Liaison's work is not easy. But for this one man... it was pleasurable.