Union of Hearts and Souls (Closed)

[Espicuta]

A Union of Hearts and Souls

"We march with a union of hearts and souls to a common destiny..."
- Michael Joseph Savage

---

This thread details the end of the Republic of Lacetanya. The nation's internal strife, its factional fighting, and the situation's rightful conclusion. It has been 180 years since Espicuta and Lacetanya were last as one and the time, many believe, has come for reunification. There are many, right or wrong, who would stand in the way of this. With peacekeeping forces mustering in Espicuta and factional militias gaining strength in Lacetanya - the region will know peace, or it will know disaster.

This is a Teremara thread. It is not expected to be long and it is closed. Nonetheless, I hope anyone who stumbles upon this thread enjoys reading it and those interested are welcome to TG me about their interest.

Contents
Prelude: News posts
1: The Queen's Declaration
2: The situation declines
- Heal thy Heart
- Hostage #1

[Lacetanya]

Veu de Lacetanya

---

El Raval, Lacetanya

Thousands descended on El Raval Tuesday at a rally held by the Reunir a Los Hijos, the reunification organization that is predominantly made up of ethnic Espicutans. While there were several speakers, most were there to hear their main political leader, Juan Bernardo Dorantes, address the packed crowd in Treballador Plaza. Dorantes has become a strong voice in the movement to reunify with Espicuta, and is a divisive figure to the rest of Lacetans who are proud of their independent heritage.

While the rally remained relatively peaceful, there were some minor clashes between pro-Lacetan counter-demonstrators and supporters of Reunir a Los Hijos that were quickly broken up, with no serious injuries reported. Gendarmes stood by, shields at the ready to separate the two groups, but it was for the most part, unnecessary. Espicutan flags were everywhere, but so were Lacetan flags, in the spirit of Dorantes' message, and people responded with great passion when Dorantes spoke.

“...It is time that we join back with our brothers and sisters over the border. Our economy is seizing up, the victim of a failed system. Other Madurinite nations are in upheaval, like Austrakia, but Espicuta remains strong. Our cousins prosper while we suffer and wonder how to feed our children. Jobs are drying up. Tech, health care, and finance jobs are disappearing and popping back up in Neu Engollon, the Roman States, and...Espicuta. It is time to rejoin our family. It’s not just Espicutans they will welcome, but our Lacetan cousins, also, have a place. We can not make it about us and them. It’s just about us. All of us!...”

The crowd roared after he was done speaking. As much as Dorantes wants to be a leader of ethnic Espicutans and Lacetans alike, he is reviled by the majority Lacetans as an outsider. His words caused less than a happy uproar in other parts of the capital at the end of the day. While the gathering was peaceful, clashes between Espicutans and Lacetans erupted later in the night here in the capital, in Girona, and Terragona.

Dorantes is not completely on the outside, however. He has powerful allies in the government like Representants Soldana and Vivas in the Generalitat. Soldana and Vivas, along with other Pro-reunification politicians, have strongly been lobbying for a referendum on the topic, and where it would have been unthinkable just a few years ago, it seems like the Federal Council is listening now.

Many, like Ona, a hotel worker observing the rally from a side street, are worried that the reunification movement is gaining traction.
“Our people left the union with Espicuta because they didn’t respect us as Lacetans with our own culture. They banned our language in schools. They discriminated against us. Now people want to go back to that?”

Another older man, who called himself Claver, said,
“If Espicutans want to be only Espicutan, they can go back over the border. No one is stopping them. We let them stay here for generations, and now they want to repay us by stealing our country. We are not cousins with them. Cousins don’t treat each other this way.”

Madurin seems highly distracted right now, as the rhetoric heats up between San Rosito and Reino do Brazil, and other border issues arise, as well as internal divisions affecting our neighbors, like the massive economic unrest in Austrakia. One hopes that the Lacetan people will make the right decision, should they be given their referendum, even if many don’t trust politicians to make a wise decision in regards to this matter.

~ Elisenda Segarra reporting from El Raval

* Veu de Lacetanya intends to follow this story and publish any updates or new developments. Continue to follow our news site with the most up to the minute reports on the re-unification debate.

[Espicuta]

A q u i l l a | C a t h e n a | G i r o n a d a | J e d o r i a | A c s u n i a

---

Lacetanya, Our errant sisters?

August 2022
By Francesca Molera

Following Saturday's affirmation in the Consejo Popular that Espicuta is willing to deploy peacekeeping forces in Lacetanya, should the situation decline to open factional conflict, many have questioned the motives of Prime Minister Alejandro Alcade in backing such a controversial move. Alcade is known for his pacifistic leanings, starting his career as a journalist for the Leórtos Guardian, and has rarely spoken on defence policy since his election in 2020. However, those who are worried about the situation have very little to fear in reality. Espicuta's Prime Minister has not abandoned his usual masculine pacifism for foreign barbarity - he is a founding member of the Council for Espicuta-Lacetanya Fraternity (CELF), after all. Alcade and his Civil Cabinet want nothing more than to prevent violence from spreading through Lacetanya, which is as pacifistic as a man can be.

Much of the efforts of CELF have been supported by the work of communities that believe in integration. With broad political support from left to right, the entry of Lacetanya into the Espicutatan state as partners is something many wish for on both sides of the border. Humanitarian aid provided by CELF-backed charities has been instrumental in providing community support in those areas of Lacetanya where martial law and instability have become a way of life. Lacetanyans are not starving in the streets - this is not the third world - but vital services have been hindered and the country's feeble economy struggles to keep food on the table for many of its people. These failures are not down to the steadfast Lacetanyan people, the blame lies with years of mismanagement and poor government.

Though Her Majesty, the Queen, has yet to speak publically about the situation in Lacetanya, reports from sources close to the Palace-Alcázar suggest that she is in favour of integration - though not annexation. And there lies the greatest issue for many: would Lacetanya retain its autonomy? Or would it be merely a province of Espicuta? Prime Minister Alcade has suggested the former, stating that an arrangement would have to be made with Lacetanyan leadership before integration could begin. Who that leadership might be, with the Federal Council in El Raval either absent or incompetent, he did not say.

As things stand, however, reunification seems to be a long way off. With unrest, both unionist and independentist, flaring up more violently by the day, Alejandro Alcade may have to back up his words with force and deploy Ejército Real peacekeepers to Lacetanya. However the situation goes, the situation looks bleak for Lacetanyan citizens crying out for a permanent solution to their national situation. Whether this might come from El Laval or Aquilla, only time will tell.

[Lacetanya]

Veu de Lacetanya

---

The Downfall?

El Raval, Lacetanya

Reunification followers of Juan Bernardo Dorantes, known as RLH, (Reunir a Los Hijos) have continued to organize after the RLH won several seats in the Generalitat. Although there is not a Director sympathetic to the RLH on the Federal Council, the growing movement seems to be fed up with democracy, and is ready to push for change outside the system, foregoing the need to take a seat on that Council.

It is certain now that they are being aided by agitators from Espicuta, although Espicutan leadership in Aquilla continues to deny it. While our larger neighbor and former master has stopped short of sending in military force, they are freely interfering in Lacetan affairs with agents and a sustained propaganda and social media campaign over the past several weeks.

Many ethnic Lacetans have been influenced by these campaigns which claim that Lacetans and Espicutans will have an equal place in a semi-autonomous Espicutan run Lacetan province, the goal of the RLH. As the economic depression continues, Lacetans look for anything that will bring stability to the country and are fed up with the Federal Council urging patience for emergency austerity measures to catch up and firm up the economy.

With martial law still declared in El Raval and the surrounding area, it is difficult to confirm reports and pro-RLH militias have arrested two of our main reporters, along with many journalists that remain pro-independence. However, we have finally been able to confirm that the Federal Council have been on house arrest at undisclosed locations and that the few remaining Lacetan authorities are desperate to find and free them.

Carles Mans, Director of the Federal Department of Justice & Security, is the only Director of the Federal Council that remains free, but he has been rushed to Sant Isador Hospital for a serious health condition, with a cordon of gendarmes protecting him and fighting off RLH militia attempts to nab him.

Dorantes has not been seen since a rally two nights ago, but sources inside the RLH say that he is preparing to take the reins in the capital. He has already declared that the Council’s authority is null and void and the need for the Generalitat to assemble before any reorganization attempt is unnecessary.

He insists that he has the majority of the people’s support, but with over 60% still polling as pro-independence, that claim is weak.

Aquilla has repeatedly said they will send in Espicutan troops if rioting turns into full blown factional fighting in the major metropolitan areas.

Meanwhile, all our former Western Madurin allies, along with the TSO, seem to have turned their heads to the pleading from the Federal Council and Assembly to hold Espicuta in check. It appears from all reports to this point, that the rest of Teremara, or at least the Madurinite powers, have given their seal of approval for Espicuta to aggressively take over our independent land. Certainly, this is a case that should be pleaded to the International Courts.

Lacetanyans should hold out hope, but we may indeed be experiencing the waning last days of our independent Republic.

~ Elisenda Segarra reporting from El Raval

[Espicuta]

Official Despatch of Her Majesty’s Government

Royal Arms of the Queendom

---

Royal Declaration of HM Queen Maria IV on the situation in Lacetanya
August 2022

Much has been rumoured in recent weeks regarding our position on the situation currently transpiring in Lacetanya. Certainly, this situation is not desirable. Our neighbours are suffering and this wounds the heart of every well-meaning Espicutan, none more than myself.

Many of my people have been involved in charitable efforts to help the suffering population of Lacetanya. I extend my deepest gratitude to these selfless citizens, they are the foremost example of Espicutan generosity and kindness - qualities which our Lacetanyan cousins also possess but cannot express in their current state. I have no doubt that the people of Lacetanya would do the same, were our situations reversed. But this is the very core of the issue: we are two fraternal peoples separated by borders; one suffering, one thriving. It is in our charitable and decent nature to wish to help others. But there is more we can do than food parcels and monetary gifts…

We must offer Lacetanya the opportunity to return to our bosom. Years ago, Lacetanya broke away from Espicuta and we wept for the divide, though wished our sisters well. We must not feel bitter because of this. Separation, in an odd way, has brought us closer and the time has come for us to come to their aid.

To the people of Lacetanya, I say this: we are sisters and brothers all. It is my wish, and the wish of my government and people, for the violence and destruction to end. For the incompetence and misrule you have suffered under to end. For division and strife to be defeated and a better future sought. I swear that the autonomy and rights of Lacetanya and her people will be respected, should I be asked to form a new administration. Those who fear subjugation need not - I am not a conqueror and have no such intentions. We are all peace-loving people, Espicutans and Lacetanyans, and we should be together again - though I respect that there are differences between us.

Though I have been advised not to, I will say freely that it is my intention to deploy peacekeepers to Lacetanya should the violence turn more severe, or should Espicutan intervention be sought by the population. Again, this need not be feared, Lacetanya has a right to self-determination, as all peoples should. Nonetheless, unification is the cry of many on both sides of the border and we must seek a resolution. Espicuta is committed to the well-being of our allies, and the happiness of all people.

Her Royal Majesty
Queen Maria de Aquilla
Fourth of that name, of Espicuta

[Lacetanya]

Sant Isador Hospital
El Raval, Lacetanya

Commander Felip Arballo stood looking out the window of the 5th floor of the hospital. Fires raged below and people continued to hurl bricks and rocks as high as they could. The lower floors reported several broken windows. He knew his men and women of the 1st Battalion, National Gendarmerie, were vigilant in keeping the perimeter, but just meters from the hospital, beyond that perimeter, it was getting chaotic. Shots were frequently heard, and shouts as clashes continued to occur were hard to ignore.

Arballo realized he wasn’t alone after a few moments. The Director of Justice & Security stood next to him. Carles Mans himself, still looking dignified in a hospital gown, towing an IV drip bag on a portable stand with him.

Felip ventured,
“I bet Dorantes is down there.”

“Maybe. But we haven’t seen him since his last rally. He has a lot of operations to look after. It would be presumptuous to think that I deserved all his attention.”

“I want to hang him.”

“I understand how you feel, but it would be the worst thing to kill him. We would be creating the martyr that the RLH is looking for. It would be feeding right into their hands.”

“All the same. He needs to be ended.”

“There would be another to fill his place, Felip. There always is. We need to kill the cause, not the people.”

“Director, perhaps you don’t understand…You are the only one left of the Federal Council that we are certain is not under lock and key by these pro-unionist militias. They are also killing off pro-independence members of the Generalitat one by one as we speak. The First Battalion is holding a firm perimeter around the hospital, with a cordon of RLH and pro-unionist militia surrounding us, as you can see…”

“Back in the day, it was always more clear cut. People armed themselves. They manned barricades. They waved red flags and covered their faces with bandanas. There were clear sides then. Now conflict and political change is this - people milling about and throwing a rock now and then. Twibbling all the while or whatever its called. Making silly statements for attention on the webs.”

“You would rather they attack?!”

“I would respect them more actually, if they charged the hospital.”

“It has been this way for quite a while, Director…”

“Look at that!”
Mans pointed at a group flowing in from the Plaza to the west. They seemed to be clashing and pushing against the pro-unionist barrier around the hospital.
“Those have to be our people.”

Arballo nodded.
“Yes. It has been ongoing all day. There are pro-government groups taking it to the streets. They are fighting, but the pro-unionists are more organized.”

“They just need to hold out until help arrives.”

Arballo turned to face the Director.
“Sir, what help?”

“You know, the international community. The TSO. Our allies. This can’t stand, and they know it. We will be saved by the international pressure.”

The gendarme commander had to hold onto the nearby window frame as he absorbed this. The Director didn’t know. He’d been sleeping for hours after his myocardial infarction. He didn’t know about Queen Maria IV’s decree.
“Sir…there’s no help coming. Our TSO allies have stated they won’t step in. They value Espicuta more than us. The Queen has stated that she will support any measure the Espicutan military takes to force a ‘re-unification’.”

“oh.”

Arballo regretted putting all that out there. The Director didn’t really need to hear all that now. Not while he was trying to recover. It was a mistake. He needed to give the Director hope.
“Well…It’s not that bleak. We are trying to recover from it. We are still putting it out there in the international court of opinion. While not official policy, a lot of public opinion is on our side. They see Espicuta as a bully and provocateur. Maybe, with time…”

In a moment of clarity, Mans shook his head.
“We don’t have time. I see that now.”

[Lacetanya]

Bosquet Riu,
Suburb of El Raval
Lacetanya

She was slumped in her living room chair. It had always been a comfortable sit for reading, but now it felt oppressive and confining. Or she was projecting those feelings onto the chair, more likely.

She looked at one of the thugs who stood looking out the window. His black leather clad back was to her. Everything she had ever read or watched in popular media said that was a bad idea. You silhouetted yourself to be shot by a sniper.

Briefly, she considered grabbing the lamp off the side table and smashing him in the head. It would be useless, because the other two thugs that were somewhere around here would smash her face in, in return.

She resorted to her only ‘vice’. It was something she had always done since she was a small child to calm herself. She squeezed her eyes shut really tight and watched as the glittery pink and blue stars shimmered around the inside of her lids. It was a different world she could escape to in times of such trouble, and it had brought her back from the brink many times.

When Alba Paret opened her eyes, there was a man sitting in the settee across from her, staring at her intently. She had never seen him before. He wasn’t one of the original thugs that had invaded her home hours ago. They must have let him in quietly as she intermittently faded out due to her maxed out anxiety that was taxing her energy.

He actually looked concerned.
“Are you alright? Is something wrong with your eyes?”

She didn’t answer him, only staring in sullen silence as her eyes readjusted.

“Oh, I see. Trying to wish us away, eh?” He chuckled. “Did it work? Isn’t the genie supposed to pop out of a samovar here…somewhere?” He waved around theatrically.

“I won’t give up my colleagues.”

He snickered again. It was much too high pitched for a man of his size. Extremely annoying.
“No one asked you to do so. We know where all of your colleagues are already, Alba. Did you think we were going to torture you for information? hahaha…Oh my!”

“Who are you? Where is my partner?”

He ignored the first question.
“Your girlfriend is upstairs. She needed to be restrained. She gave us some problems, so I hear. We had to teach her some lessons.”

Laia! My dear Laia. I will make this right. I am so sorry.
“This can’t be what Senyor Dorantes told you to do. There will be consequences for this. No matter who ends up in charge here.”

“Señor Juan Dorantes doesn’t tell us to do anything.” He emphasized the Espicutan Spanish pronunciation, instead of the common Lacetan word she had used.
“We don’t take orders from that pretty boy. He poses for the cameras and spits out media quotes. We have no need for his ineffective bullshit.”

She had won her first real bit of intel. These were not RLH goons, but some extremist off-shoot cell that had broken from the main movement. She was in a lot more trouble than she had first realized. Her estimation of her and Laia’s survival had dropped dramatically.

“You need to pack a small suitcase or bag. We will be taking a trip. You will get to see some of your commie comrades.”

They were consolidating them. She didn’t know enough about hostage situations to know if that was good or bad.
“And Laia?”

“Yes, yes…” He waved his hand, annoyed. “She can go with you. Fucking Cristo! You are the Director of Health, Education and Social Security? You can do best to guarantee the health of yourself and your…partner, by cooperating right now.”

“ I can…?”

“Yes! Go! Go see her and then pack. You have…” He held up a watch on his wrist. “...14 minutes. Make the most of it. Small bags. One for each of you.”

[Espicuta]

Acsunia Province, Eastern Espicuta
Headquarters, 2nd Brigade

---

"Yes, yes, I know that!" Brigadier General de Sepriantiga, threw her hands up in frustration as she walked. Lieutenant Bullosenda was trailing behind her impressive braids, reciting a report he had just received. De Sepriantiga huffed impatiently as the Lieutenant tried to continue speaking. The corridors of the Countess of Esteva's grand villa were winding and confusing, and 2nd Brigade's headquarters was split between the three wings of the palatial structure. Finally finding her destination, de Sepriantiga stopped and turned to face Bullosenda. "Lieutenant," she addressed him unhappily, "thank you. Now go and contact GHQ again. Give them my compliments and ask them to please provide, in future, intelligence which isn't already 48 hours old."

Bullosenda did what any young subaltern, blessed with a staff position, would do. He said, "Yes ma'am," and scampered to do the General's bidding.

A sentry opened a heavy door of well-polished pine to allow Brigadier General de Sepriantiga to pass and she entered the room beyond with her chin up. Her icy blue eyes darted about, surveying the scene before her with a merciless gaze. She removed her peaked cap and her batman hurried to take it from her. Within the Countess of Esteva's rather opulent games room, the brigade staff had been setting up the main hub of their headquarters. Billiards tables had been converted to map stations, a scoreboard for darts had been used to chalk up an Order of Battle, radio sets sat on chess boards. In one corner of the room, a rather impressive gaming PC had been packed up, and the desk taken by a spotty Lieutenant with a chunky laptop. Most of the equipment did not belong to 2nd Brigade, First Division was going to inherit the villa once the brigade moved into Lacetanya (a mere twelve miles north) and it was the unfortunate duty of de Sepriantiga's overworked staff to make the place suitable for their superiors, not just themselves.

General de Sepriantiga's arrival had been acknowledged by most of her officers, who had greeted her entry with the customary cacophony of, "Good morning, ma'am,"s which she was used to. She had smiled and nodded at each of her officers in turn and gave one more survey of the room from her position by the door before beginning the next part of the morning ritual. She liked to have a leisurely stroll around the perimeter of the room, talking to her staff and making mental notes of any issues, before she settled down for breakfast at her desk at 0800 and then got into her work at 0830. She stepped off and immediately came across something she disapproved of.

"Feet off the table, captain," the General chastised with a dissatisfied smirk. She swiped harshly at a pair of heavy boots, pushing them (and the legs they were attached to) off of a draughts table. "The Countess of Esteva is a good friend, I doubt she'd appreciate your mucky boots all over her furniture."

The Captain grumbled and brushed her boots lazily with a hand. "They're not mucky!" She argued. And added, "ma'am," after a withering look from her commander.

"Captain de Sepriantiga," the General stepped closer and lowered her voice. "My daughter or not, you are an officer on my staff. There are certain standards I demand. I love you, but be careful.”

As the elder Sepriantiga expected, the Captain grumbled out a "Fine..." Then she hopped to her feet enthusiastically and snapped to attention with a resounding "yes, ma'am!" Zara de Sepriantiga kept up a stiff salute as her mother grinned and called her a bitch under her breath. The General was returning the salute when Lieutenenant Bullosenda returned to her side, holding a field telephone and looking anxious.

"Ma'am," the young lieutenant reported in, "GHQ for you." He held the handset out for his commander.

Maria de Sepriantiga paid the young man no attention as she took the handset from him with a slight sigh. "General Sepriantiga speaking." The two younger officers next to her paid anxious attention as their general's face turned from idle interest to rapt and serious attention. "Yes, yes..." She muttered along with the unseen caller's words. "El Raval is thirty miles, ma'am," she spoke, capturing her young audience's intrigue even further. "What of the rest of First Division? No- No- With respect, I cannot speak for anyone outside of my command. No-" Her brow furrowed in frustration just as her officers' eyes widened in excitement. "General, ma'am, what you're telling me is beyond my purview. General Martinez is not yet here. No- Nobody from division is here yet. Very well, if those are your orders. Yes, ma'am, God Save the Queen."

If the younger Sepriantiga and Lieutenant Bullosenda were expecting explanations, they were to be disappointed. There was no time for explanations, the Brigadier General burst into activity before the handset had even reached Bullosenda's unprepared hands. He narrowly avoided dropping it and jumped in surprise as his commander began bellowing orders. "Mister Olivero, put a hold on that! Just leave First Division's stuff here, and pack up our own equipment. Captain Mesonero, I'll thank you to stop gossiping there - get me General Martinez on that radio of yours." She shooed a pair of aproned clerks harshly and turned to her daughter, "Captain Sepriantiga, my compliments to Colonel de Retientè and would you please tell her that her dragoons are to prepare to march immediately."

---

The headquarters of the Ejercito Real de Espicuta's 2nd Brigade was packed up before it had even finished setting up. Rare though it was for military intelligence, Brigadier General Maria de Sepriantiga's request for fresh information was, in fact, heeded. Violence in El Raval, not to mention the rest of Lacetanya, was worsening by the hour. Most of the Lacetanyan Federal Council were unaccounted for, not that many of their people would notice. The world seemed to have forgotten about Lacetanya, except for one woman who would not be content with leaving that nation to its fate. That woman was Maria del Carmen Theresa de Aquilla and she was the queen of Espicuta. She would not forget her long-separated sisters and she would not leave them to their plight. With their Queen's blessing, the 4th Regiment of Dragoons drove to the Lacentanyan frontier and, after a short discussion with the kind garrison of a border checkpoint, crossed into the suffering Republic.

No more would Lacetanya's peoples suffer. Two would become one, in a Union of Hearts and Souls.

[Lacetanya]

Bosquet Riu,
Suburb of El Raval
Lacetanya

Alba Paret had held her tongue as she was driven through the streets of Bosquet Riu. Some of that had to do with the large, hulking escorts that were crowding her in the backseat. Unlike downtown El Raval, it was quite the contrast here. Normally she would see people out walking their dogs, walking to the markets, or driving out and enjoying the nice weather, but it was like a ghost town. No one was out. They were either safely padded up in their homes, at their work, if any businesses still remained open, or joining the protests downtown.

If she had to guess, it was likely the former.
Then they were gliding through Castelldefels. A few more people were out, mostly talking to neighbors and looking agitated, but still not militant enough to do anything to save the country. It was certainly how they would lose. The upper middle class didn’t care what flag flew, only that they continued to enjoy their comfort.

She squeezed Laia’s hand tighter. She had stopped with the noisy sobbing, but was quietly still crying and severely traumatized. All that Alba could do was keep comforting her and letting her know she was by her side. Both shoulders of Alba’s coat were coated in mucus and tears.

They stopped finally, and she recognized the home.
It was the residence of her dear friend, Adrià Bosc, The Foreign Affairs Director for the Federal Council. They bundled her and Laia out of the car and they saw several other thugs on the front lawn, and as they entered the front lobby.

Her colleagues were here with their families. Most of them. Carles was noticeably absent, but they knew about that. He was under siege in the hospital. She rushed over to Pol, Adrià’s husband, who had a rag up to his head, where blood seemed to be oozing out of a gash.
He smiled weakly up at her.
“It’s nothing. A gun butt to the head. I tried to stop them from coming in.”

“It needs to be stitched.”

He shrugged.
“They gave me something for the pain. I don’t think they have a true medic among them, but they’re not totally cold to us.”

“They’re not RLH.”

“No? Hmm…They haven’t really said much at all about their politics…At least our gathering of thugs here. I don’t know if that is good or bad that they’re not Dorantes’ people.”

“I don’t either. Where is Adrià?”

He smiled a little bolder now.
“Where else? Giving the head thug a piece of her mind in the kitchen.”

The man who had seemed in charge back at Alba’s home marched through the living room, heading to the kitchen. He was a bit above average height. Thinning brown hair flecked with grey, and wore a leather jacket over a white button shirt, khaki trousers, and Espicutan style loafers. Typical dress for a Lacetan, other than he was an Espicutan sympathizing fascist.

There were a few short, sharp commands heard in the kitchen, then he was pushing both his man, and Adrià out through the swinging door into the very crowded living room.
He waited a moment taking in those gathered, both his people and the Federal Council members, and their partners and families.

“My name is Benat. I am in charge. No, we are not with Dorantes and the RLH. Some of you have figured that out, already…”

“So, are we about to die?” from Neus Oliveras. She was if anything, very blunt when needed.

Benat smirked,
“No, not necessarily. If Dorantes had you, then yes, for certain.”

“I don’t believe you. If you are who I think you are, then you are the extremists. You want this chaos.”

“Then we are not who you think we are. We never wanted that, out there. We wanted a peaceful transition, but…It has come to this...Dorantes, he wants you dead. It’s more expeditious for him…”
Benat paused, taking a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket. He put one in his mouth and one of his lackeys beat him to the punch to light it.

Adrià stepped forward, outraged.
“You can not smoke in here!”

Benat smirked in his odd way. He pointed at Adrià.
“It is tough to be you right now. I understand.” He didn’t stop smoking. Pol just shook his head, then regretted that as it exacerbated his headache.

Benat continued.
“...To be honest, we wanted a trial. We wanted you all to pay for your crimes of ineptitude. If the sentence was to be death, then so be it, but likely it would have been exile, or some kind of extended house arrest. Martyrdom gets so…messy.”

Neus said,
“Everyone wants to paint themselves out to be the good guys. I don’t think you know who you are dealing with here.”

Benat went on as if she had never spoken,
“You seem to want to hold Dorantes in higher regard than us, which I don’t understand. He brought all this about, after all. You don’t get him at all. He’s all for himself. He wants a fiefdom, a semi-autonomous state for his own rule. We are the ones who want true reunification. Full rule from Mother Espicuta. Whereas he is really not for that. Not when the chips have all fallen. And yes, he is the one who certainly, without question, want you dead. He is also the one with the PR machine that makes everyone believe otherwise.”

“So you say.” Teresa Salles spoke up for the first time. “What if he were to say the same thing about you?”

Benat waved his cigarette in the air.
“Perhaps…But I don’t think he would mention me at all, if he could help it.”

“Why not? Why do you know so much about him.”

“Because the answer to both your questions is that I used to be his right hand man. I know everything there is to know about Juan Bernardo Dorantes, and not much of it is good.”

There was a drawn out silence after that as the members of the Federal Council, family, and entourage digested that information from Benat.

Benat finished his cigarette and put it out in a decorative candy bowl.
“We need to move again. We are not safe here. Dorantes’ people will soon be re-checking all of your residences and it won’t do to be here when his thugs come calling. We have a place.”

---

RLH Command Post
El Raval, Lacetanya

Things were deteriorating into chaos all around the capitol, and a prettier picture Juan Bernardo Dorantes could not have imagined. He was not a cruel man, nor a macabre one. He felt genuine sorrow for the people caught up in the heat of the moment; lost in the ebb and tide of the tempestuous storm that was being loosed all over El Raval. But it was a necessary moment in time, for the chaotic maelstrom being unleashed upon the city was but a symptom of the disease that had been allowed to rot in Lacetanya for far too long. Reunir a Los Hijos was not merely the cause célèbre of the moment. No, it was the means to an end: the cure to the sickness of Lacetanyan independence. With so much unrest and violence now engulfing the region, it was only a matter of time before the Espicutans would arrive en masse to begin pacifying the situation. And in one fell swoop, the toxicity of the separation between the two siblings would be remedied.

And so it was that he found himself sitting at the control arm of the makeshift command post the RLH had established in the western suburbs of El Raval, watching as the street fighting became more disorganized by the hour. Rioting and looting had already begun to enrapture the whole of the city, and he could only imagine what news was escaping to the outside world. The deleterious effect of the passing hours had been mitigated by a steady stream of reports from the streets about the deteriorating situation, all cross checked with the ever-present hope that Espicutan forces would cross the horizon threshold at any hour to welcome their wayward sibling back into the fold. Their militias meanwhile would continue to press their advantage against the collapsing will of the government’s waning forces, a clear sign that the albatross was beginning to give up the ghost. They needed only to hold on for a short season longer and the victory was theirs.

The sooner this wraps up, the better; the less we have to rebuild, the sooner we can begin reconciliation work…

That would be the real trick of the matter, truthfully; with more than half of the country still favoring independence in the most recent polling, he would have his work cut out for him trying to galvanize enough support from the disenfranchised Lacetanyans who favored remaining free in the incubus of their disdainful republic. His brow furrowed at the mere thought of Lacetanyan independence and of the republic, for it was a null state as far as he was concerned; a figment of the imagination of people, a mass delusion that was in need of cleansing from the public consciousness. There was no greater sin than to remain free of the Espicutans, for with them there was power to be had, prestige, esteem. The highborn daughters of fate, he had likened them to, separated from Lacetanya by some cruel trick generations before by a group of malevolent peons. If he had his way, all those that favored independence from Espicuta would be hung up by their necks.

Alas, they were still a ways off from that reconciliation yet, for the time – the dawning of the new age – had not yet come to fruition. Dorantes ran his fingers through his graying, thinning hair, wondering where the years had gone; truly, the last several days had taken their toll on his resolve. Distant sounds of gunfire could be heard clattering throughout the city, reminding him of the imminent threat that the violence posed should the wrong crowd find their way into their compound. Their militias were moving through the city, attempting to seize control of the government and its ordinances as quickly as they could, but that didn’t mean they would be free from interlopers attempting to use the situation to their own advantage. As a means of helping to ease some of the growing disease, he had begun making friends with a bottle of whiskey every few hours, careful not to drink himself into a stupor for when he was needed – such as right that moment…

“Señor Dorantes,” one of his pages spoke up from across the table, holding a plethora of cables in her hands, “the radio is ready to transmit your message on your command.”

“Thank you, Francesca,” Juan said curtly, looking down at a stack of paperwork that had been strewn out across the desk in front of the old HAM radio set now sitting on the table. They had been working to set up to broadcast to the city and beyond for some time now, hoping to use the violence unfolding in El Raval to call for international (and, by proxy, Espicutan) intervention in the situation. “We shall begin momentarily–”

“ –I know, I know, let’s go… ¡Hola, mi capitán!”

His adjutant and political counsel, Jesús-Luis Pedroza had impeccable timing; he entered the cramped, unadorned office with a group of staffers in tow, wearing a Kevlar vest; it was obvious that he had been out on the streets, as evidenced by the thick stress lines in his forehead. “Señor Pedroza, as I live and breathe; how the hell are you?”

“Sir, I am rolling,” he said ambivalently, trying to hide the beads of sweat that were rolling off his thick, bushy brows. “The pro-government forces are disorganized and leaderless; we are slowly wearing them out all over the city. At this rate I calculate the potential for total capitulation within the next 36 to 72 hours.”

“That optimistic, are we?” Dorantes remarked candidly, looking out the window towards the glowing fires that dotted the cityscape. “I have my doubts, but perhaps your version may yet prevail.”

“The Council is nowhere to be found,” Pedroza replied, pointing out the same window that Dorantes now stared outside of; “I just did my own reconnoiter of the city, and we’re winning the day right now. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, accept that fate is on your side!”

“I don’t believe in fate,” Juan answered him directly, turning to face his counsel with arms crossed across his chest. “I believe that we make our own way in the universe. Our militias, those loyal to the RLH, they’re the ones carving out the future that we seek to build here in Lacetanya, not some divine hand of Providence.”

Señor Pedroza shook his head, confused. “But your speeches, you–”

“–Yes, yes, my speeches,” Juan sarcastically responded, smirking. “You have to leave some breadcrumbs for the pious out there, you know? History won’t judge me for the lies I tell, only the truths we create. I may not believe that fate guides us to this result, but the people will ultimately believe it when we deliver it to them, and that is what matters. History will be the judge of me, not some mystical fairy-tale padre in the sky or some karmic system of universal justice at play.”

Jesús-Luis corrected him: “You do have faith in one thing, of course: unification.”

“Don’t be a smartass! Of course I have faith in unification. You think all of this bullshit was just fun and games? No, the separation that divides Espicuta and Lacetanya must be mended, and if that means I must be the hand that rethreads that rent fabric, then so be it.”

Pedroza nodded, looking back out the window. “I just wish it hadn’t come to this; I wish there was another way that didn’t require violence and bloodshed. A lot of our countrymen are going to suffer over the next several days by our hand in all of this.”

“The weak will be culled,” Dorantes said unapologetically, turning away from Pedroza as if trying to steel himself to give the answer. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but it was a necessary evil. Always remember, the government pushed us to this step, not the other way around. We are on the right side of history, always. It is the government that will have shed the blood of our countrymen at the end of the day – a point I plan to belabor here momentarily.”

“Oh, that’s right! I nearly forgot in all the excitement!” Jesús-Luis remarked, looking at the radio set on the table in front of him; “did you ever get your speech prepared?”

“Yeah, it’s somewhere in these damn notes,” Juan chided himself as he began searching through the clutter of papers, trying to locate the prepared speech he was to make over the radio broadcast at the top of the hour in… three minutes ago, damn it all. “I may just wing it.”

“Well if you do, remember to hit the high points,” Jesús-Luis reminded him. “Violence is the fault of the government, they’re nowhere to be found, we need international intervention to quell the uprisings. Tell our narrative, and don’t let the facts get in the way of our truth.”

"Right, right," Juan nodded along. He then turned back to Francesa, asking, "I guess we're ready to go."

Francesca nodded affirmatively. "Ready on your cue, sir!"

"Then let's record this..."

~

To the brave men and women of Lacetanya, I bid you greetings in these difficult times.

I know that the tribulations we now face are perilous, indeed. The fact that our government, the fraudulent warmongers are nowhere to be found during this crisis only reinforces our position that unification is not only just, but necessary to preserve peace and stability in Lacetanya. Their absence in the violence has left a power vacuum that we are trying to fill as best we can. I, Juan Bernardo Dorantes, do hereby call on the people of Lacetanya to resist violence! Stay strong during these times, and answer to the local RLH militias that are seeking to restore order and bring stability to our country. Help them help you bring peace and stability to our country before the warmongers seek to destroy our fragile way of life.

I hereby petition the nations of the region, and in particular our Espicutan siblings to intervene in our hour of turmoil and to help bring healing to our land through their guiding hand. It is obvious and apparent that the government of Lacetanya is collapsing and is no longer capable of administering the duties for which the Lacetan people require of them. If Lacetanya is to have a future, it is at the side of Espicuta, and the international community must recognize this fact! Help us stop this interminable conflict while lives can still be saved! Help us to end this destructive conflict and bring order back to the streets of El Raval this very day.

To my fellow Lacetanyans, hold out for just a short season longer. The night is always darkest right before the dawn, but the dawn is coming, and it will wash away the stains of our failed government and unveil a new day with which we shall all prosper. Stand firm and help your neighbors this night, and we in the RLH will do our part to help end this miserable conflict and bring honor to Lacetanya forevermore! To unification and peace we march!

---

The Border
A few dozen km from El Raval

Xavi Cugat was the Gendarme Commander for the Western Sector, and it fell to him to react to the storm coming at him. Miraculously, the border guards had let the Espicutan force through, although he couldn’t expect them to put up much of a fight.

There had been some defections overnight, as some of the more Espicutan ethnic, and even slightly doubting of his troops had decided they could not be challenged anymore in their loyalties. They were outnumbered, and they knew it.

His command here on the Western border, the sector before the capital, was a mish mash now of gendarmes, militia reporting for muster, and volunteers. Those still loyal to the Lacetanyan regime, in other words.

They were taking orders directly from the top. One of the Federal Council, anyway. Arballo had called him, and then patched him through right to Carles Mans, himself. Director of Security and Justice. Mans had little energy and turned the phone right back over to Arballo, but his affirmation was enough for Cugat to trust Arballo. These were tough times and trust was a commodity.
“Xavi, you are going to have to make a stand until we can get more troops there. Do not let the Espicutans through.”

“Tell me what I don’t know, Felip.”

He hoped it wouldn’t be a last stand. They set about making road blocks and defenses, halfway up the road from the border. Old broken down autos, truck trailers, logs and even waste dumpsters. Literal dumpster fires. The other two roads into the capital were blocked the same way. They set machine gun nests up in the low hills, with lighter artillery even higher up.
The Lacetan loyalists continued to dig in with what little time they had left.

[Writing assistance from Nova Secta, who wrote the part of Juan Bernardo Dorantes]

[Espicuta]

Border Territories, North of Ascunia Province
4th Dragoons

---

Colonel Alicia de Retientè’s regiment of dragoons had the honour of spearheading the Espicutan march on El Raval. The 300 troopers of the regiment, as the vanguard of the operation, wore carnations on their uniforms - an Espicutan tradition dating back centuries. Although their dress has scarcely changed in 100 years, their mounts certainly had. The metal monsters of the Espicutan Mechanised Ordnance Corps had replaced the hardy troop horses of old. The BMR personnel carriers and the VEC reconnaissance vehicles (both of the same chassis design), the Lancer light tanks purchased from Vionna-Frankenlisch, and the curious ATGM and mortar carriers of the support squadron. Whatever the traditions of the Espicutan army, it was a modern force in most senses of the word.

Whatever was known of the Lacetanyan defence forces had been forgotten in the haze of civil conflict. As far as Espicutan intelligence was aware, much of the old Lacetanyan military had collapsed in the midst of the crisis. Troops, discontent with the political situation and from their own mistreatment - many left unpaid for weeks or even months, had simply skulked away in hopes of new employment or mercenary service. Many officers had thrown in their lot with one side or the other in the crisis, and several had convinced their men to follow them. Of the old Lacetan army, many regiments could not be accounted for, and the few which had been identified by the Royal Directorate of Intelligence were smaller than they once had been. Which units were loyal to which side of the political crisis, however, was tricky to tell and the RLH had not been forthcoming with information. At any rate, resistance was considered highly unlikely.

“Highly unlikely…” Colonel de Retientè scoffed as she read her orders over for a fourth time, stood with her elbows leaning on the hatch cover of her command vehicle - a Frankenlischian-built Mk.I Lancer. Her column of 39 vehicles had barely crossed the border before the sight of Lacetan defences forced them to halt. A roadblock of old cars, trailers, and whatever else was sturdy enough was in the way. Rather than taking the main highway, the Espicutan 2nd Brigade had opted to advance along a subsidiary road, through a small town called Saguinè, and from there on to El Raval - a distance of under 20 kilometres. Midway between the border and Saguinè, however, the Lacetans had been spotted behind their defences. MG nests and gun pits for light artillery could be seen, well dug-in amongst the low hills. There would certainly be more unseen. Retientè made a note of this but hoped it wouldn’t matter, she did not wish to fight.

After a short conference around Retientè’s command tank, the officers of the regiment elected Captain Isora of B Squadron to go forward under a white flag as their representative. With the main portion of the Brigade crossing the border at the same time, they had less than an hour to persuade the Lacetans to let them past, or else force a breakthrough. The three combat squadrons of the regiment prepared themselves for action, even as Captain Isora went forward in a car, unguarded except for a young driver, holding the white flag of truce aloft.

[Lacetanya]

Castelldefels
El Raval
Lacetanya

The convoy of three vehicles, two vans and an SUV, raced through the streets when they could, and crept through the crowds beginning to gather when they could not. Where it had originally been almost clear, the streets were beginning to fill in as people abandon caution to see what their neighbors were up to, and those neighbors wanted to see what the activists were up to.

Tension was as thick as the air was humid. They all knew this was the moment, more than any of the other waves of protests that had gone on the last few weeks, this was not routine. They had reached an apex and word was the Espicutans had finally crossed the border to put an end to it all. Those who had chosen caution and stayed away from the chaos, were now being drawn outside, feeling it was worth the risk to see the end, no matter which side they supported. It was hard to tell who was who for the casual observer since both sides were waving yellow and orangey shades of red, the colors of both the Lacetan and Espicutan flags.
Time for the Republic was now being measured in hours.

Alba and her compatriots on the Council could only see glimpses of it all through the back windows of the vans. Benat’s men were in the SUV leading the convoy, ready to jump out at any sign of trouble.
The throngs, the colors, the energy. It was all encompassing.

Suddenly, they halted for some reason. Then they heard it on the radio from the men in the SUV in the lead. Roadblock! Not just protestors, but determined opposition. They were then blocked in by more vehicles behind the last van. Being in the middle van, Alba could see none of it, but only relied on what bursts were coming through the driver and security men’s radios in her van.

There was shouting, then gunshots. Then panicked yelling as nearby protestors ran for cover or right in the way of the firefight. Some dropped to the pavement, mortally wounded.

One bullet made an odd sound as it punctured through the van wall. Then another and the man holding the radio in the front passenger seat slumped over. The driver grabbed at an SMG next to him at the same time he opened his door. A line of bullets stitched him as soon as his feet hit the pavement.and he fell back, half inside. The last remaining of Benat’s men inside the van tensely waited, his SMG at the ready, switching from the front window, to the back doors.

The back door was yanked open.
“Don’t shoot!”
It was Benat himself.
“Get out, everyone. Run for your lives.” He was obviously addressing the Council hostages, but it was clear the henchman was considering it, too.

Alba jumped out, feeling her legs unsteady. Teresa and Neus were right behind her. Then Teresa fell. A bullet had hit her in the back. There was no scream. She just flopped over. Alba looked at Teresa’s eyes. She just stared off down the street. Her friend was gone.

Benat, pistol out and hunkered down, locked eyes with Alba. He pointed towards a gap in the houses off the street.
“Go! Go! Don’t run in a straight line!”

She saw Adrià and Vicenç already running for that gap with another of Benat’s thugs, having escaped the last van.
Bullets still flew overhead and were impacting into the vehicles. Were these the RLH? Who knew at this time, other than no government people would be firing so cavalierly into vehicles the Council were held hostage in, or into a crowd, for that matter.

Alba ran. First towards the one house, then changing direction and moving towards the other, as quick as she could. It was sage advice from Benat as the windows of the house she had been running towards previously shattered. She ran like she was back in school in track.

---

The Hills Outside El Raval

Brigadier Xavi Cugat watched as the Espicutans pushed ever closer. They had taken a side road instead of the main highway into the capital. It was kind of expected and didn’t really shake up his battle plan much. In fact, his current command vantage point overlooked the very same road.

Cugat had already sent out his best unit, the 9th Regiment from the Militia, out to flank the Espicutan column. They were outnumbered, but counting on surprise, and for the artillery and heavy weapons manned by the polyglot defense of gendarmes, militia, and volunteers, to do a lot of the job. As they were ground up from the front, the 9th would hit them from the side to break up the attack. For now, they would wait for the signal from Cugat before they initiated the counter-attack but they maneuvered ever closer near the woods to the south, armored vehicles in the lead.

He watched through field glasses as the lone Espicutan walked down the road with a white flag. It could be a trick, but the Espicutans didn’t sacrifice their own for such dishonor as to violate a proposed temporary truce.

He put down the binoculars.
“I’m heading down there.”

Captain Balmes grabbed his arm.
“No, let me go, Sir.”

“Nonsense, Captain. It will be fine.” Xavi said as he unbuckled his pistol belt and laid it behind the sandbag wall.
Within minutes, he had scaled down from the bluff and was walking to greet the Espicutan officer. He held up his hands unnecessarily.

When he was close enough, he confidently raised his voice, speaking in Lacetan, not Espicutan.
“Alright! You have me here. Speak your peace.”