Tales of Two Horizons IC-Open

[The Kingdom of Glitter]

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The Columbian Federation



Chapter 4 - Hidely Ho!

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20 May 1835
Manhattan D.C.
White House

The president sat in his office with his cabinets. The room was quiet and tense. He looked up from the map before him and over to the Secretary of War. "So our offensive has been going to plan? We have secured all of Franklin?" he asked as he reached for a bottle of gin.

"Yes Sir. Franklin is under Columbian jurisdiction and a scouting team has secured the rest of von Johansen's land for us." Secretary Cass replied.

"Good." von Johansen said as he placed his now empty glass down upon the table. "Does it seem Nova Gallia will lean towards war?" he asked.

"No. They are not fools. The letter we received is as spineless as their president." the Secretary of State said.

"Good. That means the army will be available for other plans. The Mormons have declared their own state, correct?" the president inquired.

"Yes indeed. They've been encroaching into Shoshone land since the purchase of Louisiane. They've declare the 'Divine Republic of Deseret' with their capital in Salt Lake City, right along the border." the Secretary replied.

"Do you think we could play them off the Shoshone? You know, arm them, reinforce them, get them to secure land from the Natives, and then turn on them and annex Deseret.' von Johansen said as he raised his eyebrow. His hate for the Natives was no secret, much to the dismay of his Vice President.

"It would be manageable." Cass replied. "We can begin organizing the transport upon your request."

"It would be no good without an agreement between us."

"Have General Sherman sign the deal for us. The Mormons are in no position to refuse, considering Sherman's negotiation tactics" the President said.

The two Secretaries agreed and the President reached for his now full class. Van Buren still sat silent across the room. "The Mormons are almost as uncivilized as the savages. We'll just ensure both of them are replaced, or at least greatly outnumbered with preferable groups - just as we will do to the savages in Illinois, Wisconsin, and so forth." von Johansen said.

"You god damned bastard." Van Buren exclaimed. The Secretaries fell silent. "What is it with you and your desire to remove them?"

"They are a foreign people living in a foreign nation within our borders and they must be removed. They are an invading force, and as president I hold the power to subdue them." the president growled.

"You're a pompous ass, Andreas. The Constitution allots you no such powers." the Vice President said.

von Johansen hurled around, grabbing his glass off of his desk in the process. He hurled it at the wall and began shouting. "How dare you, you swamp swine! How dare you insult me! I am the President of this nation, and you will respect and obey me. You serve me!" His faced turned red.

"I most certainly do not. Find a new Vice President." Van Buren bravely declared.

"OUT! NOW! TRAITOR!" von Johansen shrieked.

Not only did von Johansen lose his Vice President, but upon Van Buren's publication of the Indian Removal plans, he lost party members from across New England. His support in the frontier only grew stronger, but his control of Congress was gone. The Liberty Party was fracturing and the vultures were beginning to circle.

23 May 1835
Manhattan D.C.
Office of the State Department

In order to turn public opinion more strongly in von Johansen's favor, he tooked to the British colony of New East Anglia. The colony was well populated and its populace very similar to those in the Columbian frontier. By annexing New East Anglia, von Johansen hoped to regain precious support he had lost. However, it did not matter much. His time as president was coming to an end in less than two years. Public opinion affected him not, but for his shattered party it was key.

The Columbian Federation

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Addressed to Viscount Palmerston, Foreign Secretary of the United Kingdom

Sir,

Following the purchase of the Louisiane Colony from the French, my government would like to turn its attention to the colony of New East Anglia. It is no secret to us that British ambitions lie elsewhere and their interest in holding land in North America is slowly coming to a close. For that reason I would like to invite a delegation to Manhattan D.C. in order to negotiate the sale of New East Anglia to my government.

May God be with you.

Most sincerely,
Louis McLane
Secretary of State of Columbia

The Columbian Federation

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Addressed to Léon Bordeaux, Foreign Minister of Nova Gallia

Sir,

Your accusations are appalling. Columbia has not undertaken any illegal international action, in fact we have only acted within our own borders. For you see, Franklin is sovereign Columbian land and does not belong to and has not belonged to Nova Gallia. Our troops will not be leaving, and I strongly urge you to remove the forces of your nation before we are forced to remove them ourselves. War between our nations would prove devastating for your small nation, as you would be utterly obliterated on the field of battle.

I strongly urge you to consider the actions being reviewed by your government. You would not want to make a fatal mistake.

May God be with you.

Most sincerely,
Louis McLane
Secretary of State of Columbia

[Liecthenbourg]

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland



Dieu et Mon Droit

Chapter 5: The World Belongs to Albion

The Honourable Lord Collingwood,
British Admiral and Governor of New East Anglia

House of Commons, London, May 24th.
Lord Palmerston stood up slowly, watching as the debates within Parliament went on. He couldn't care much about the domestic policy that William Lamb was spouting about. Frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if the most recent debate was actually relating to a change in accommodation. The House of Commons had been moved to the Lesser Hall, and after various MPs had denied the usage of Buckingham Palace - an instance no many regretted - they were stuck in this rather less spacious and rather boxing room.

Palmerston didn't care much about that either - his work kept him away from this rag-tag throwing of political alignment as he was too busy dealing with other nations political heads. He couldn't tell if that was a blessing or a curse; but he had concluded being sworn at in another's language did seem much more imposing than being called something in English. He mused at that. Pushing the doors open, the man commonly quipped The Mongoose, entered the democratic halls.

"Cease your bickering." he called as he took his seat near that of William Lamb. "I come with Foreign News."

"We are debating foreign news, sir!" came a quip from across the room.

"Heh? What of, why was I not informed?"

"Its merely suggestions, nothing formal!" came one of the MPs sitting close to the Lord Palmerston.

"Well, what were these suggestions?" he replied, sitting down and placing a few letters of importance upon the oaken desk used for trivial things.

"The idea of purchasing.... the Scandinavian Portions of the land we have dubbed 'Canada'." came the response from William Lamb, whom was in the processing of narrowing his eyebrows.

It was no farce. Many members of the British Parliament had grown into the idea of purchasing those portions of land. Not only would they open an Atlantic door to reach Vancouver, they would allow for a greater consolidation of power within the Northern Atlantic. And the access to Lumber would be phenomenal - for Britain would have acres upon acres of untouched woodlands to use for her war machines, her fleets. It was a prospect, really, that would be most excellent would the Scandinavians agree. The founding of gold in British Columbia, had in fact, spread the ideas across more than just its few supporters. Now many held the ideas gold would be found across the Canadian Heartland.

Palmerston waved them off. "We'll talk about that later - we have more important matters to discuss right now. Your majesty." the Foreign Minister bowed, William IV - despite his lack of power in these halls, enjoyed sitting in the Commons for their debates. "The Columbians - they wish to purchase the Colony of New East Anglia from the Crown."

The debates raged on, for on and on and on forever more. As sides tugged their arguments 'Columbians are expansionist bastards!' 'We don't need New East Anglia!' raged, a general consensus seemed to be achieved.

"In recollection." the Lord Palmerston began. "We are to send a diplomatic envoy; one headed by Princess Victoria and accompanied by the Duke of Wellington, Arthur Wellesley." the man in question nodded. "And, in addition, the Lord Collingwood whom will join with our envoys as they approach 'Manhattan D.C'. Are we in agreement? Good. Now, I quite like the idea of purchasing Scandinavian Canada."

And the uproar commenced again.

From: The Office of Foreign Secretary Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston
To: The Office of His Most Gracious Sovereign, King Adolphus III of Scandinavia

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Your Grace,

For much too long has Britain eyed the lands of Scandinavian Canada and kept quiet about this fixation. As of recently, more British MPs have come to term with the idea becoming a favourable one. It is on this regard that we send you this missive, one detailing and asking for interest if your government and you would be willing to part with the land - for the lump sum of £13,000,000 to be paid in the money itself, or in goods depending on how you wish. If you are interested, of course.

May God Bless You,
Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston, Acting in the Interests of His Majesty, King William IV.

From: The Office of Foreign Secretary Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston
To: The Office of Louis McLane, Secretary of State of Columbia

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Sir

This idea is most welcome by the British Government. It is true that we are finding a lack of interest for the territory of New East Anglia, but we are not as you say losing an interest in holding land in North America - British Columbia as you may be aware is quite interesting and prosperous and thus this British Government aims to keep that colonial land indefinitely. But this is merely banter, Britain will be sending a diplomatic envoy - one headed by Her Grace, Princess Victoria, to discuss the terms of such a purchase.

May God Bless You,
Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston, Acting in the Interests of His Majesty, King William IV.

A British Cavalry Charge During the Battle of Aliwal

Peshawar, Sikh Empire, June 3rd.
And so the British guns roared in their fury. On marched the red-coats, the Hanoverians and the Prince State's soldiers towards the ever reaching, illuminating, glowing city that signified victory. With Multan having been seized by the forces under Colonel General, Kashmir under siege by Nizam Jah IV - Peshawar became the last proper bastion of the Sikh Empire. This single city, the culmination of all the Company's efforts, would come crashing down and the Sikhs would be forced to accept full annexation.

It was a scene to be recreated in the ballads and legends of old. Smoke rose high, dust too and all the while the war drums that were the cannons of iron and bronze continued to pound the walls of Peshawar into submission. Like Hephasetus smashing his hammer against his anvil in the flames of Olympus of old, the cannons did strike with the same ferocity and determination. Unlike the old Olympian God however, these cannons would break their craft. Smash it to oblivion, pound it into the dust.

And on marched the men. Marching into the jaws of hell, they were. Gripping their muskets and rifles with passion and fear, they stared onwards towards the city and buildings around it. Time itself seemed to slow as the fire from cannons erupted over head. Some soldiers covered their ears, others tried to block it out, but none could really halt the wretched noise of cannon rounds impacting, or exploding. True now, even the test of mind was being deployed. At the bequest of the Maharajah of Mysore did the British employ these dreaded weapons. And off they flew, whizzing and fizzing into the sky before arching down and exploding in righteous fury.

Rockets. Peshawar would fall. And the British would plant their heels on yet another state yet.

Port-of-London, London, June 4th
The sun shone brightly on the morning of the 4th of June. Churning and clanking and metallic works of all kind could be heard in the distance, and even in the near present by the shipbuilding centres, but it bothered Victoria not. She giggled slightly, bringing a gloved hand to her mouth as more thoughts about merely just... getting up and leaving England, away from mother, from even more time. Unfortunately however, she had made quick mental links and was aware that her new found friend, Frederick, was not to be attending with her. That was upsetting. Truly.

When she had been informed by her uncle William that she was to go to 'Columbia' to lead a diplomatic envoy for her to get an 'understanding of how foreign relations works' she was rather... unsure. Doubts, fears, worries all plagued her mind. Would she fail? What would the Columbians think of her? What would her fellow Britons think of her? Then she thought; what would mother think? And suddenly became very pleased. She had hugged her uncle then and there, and through tears of joy she had asked if Frederick William could come with her. Begrudgingly, William IV declined and informed her this was something he could not attend.

She gave the German Prince a tight hug upon the piers of London. He returned it, greatly and warmly and planted a brief kiss on her fingers as they said their final goodbyes. As she stood on the pier, guards at her flanks, she watched as the dashing prince of Prussia boarded upon his carriage and made his way to meet up with her uncle. And so she waited. And so the ship came, or well, ships came. A flotilla of vessels, all pomp and splendour came sailing down the Thames from one of the ports further up the river. And as the ship she was to be on, The Bounty, set down its gangplank for the lady and her entourage (She had several handmaidens with her) were to set aboard, the dashing figure of an old Napoleonic hero; dressed in his military colours with his medals stood proudly as she stepped onto the deck.

"Your Grace." the Duke of Wellington bowed. "I am honoured to be your company for this journey. You shall find our fellow diplomatic fellows in their cabins."

"Lead on, Sir."

[Rudaslavia]

Regno di Toscana



Chapter I: Foundations of Grandeur

Salone dei Cinquecento
Palazzo Vecchio
Florence, Kingdom of Tuscany
17 April, 1835

Ignatius IV,
King of Tuscany

"Italia," began Ignatius IV of Tuscany before the Florentine Parliament. "One nation...one people...one faith...divided. Toscana, Genova, Venezia, Napoli, lo Stato Pontificio -- all condemned to exist alone without the rightful aid of their neighbors." He paused, uplifting his hands. "It is an abomination! Europe would have the Italian people eat themselves; they fear a revival of l'Impero Romano. And so, our clambering states of disunion shall remain the boot of this continent. And from now to the end time, we shall be submissive to the will of foreign oppressors."

Ottone di Valerio, Conte di Santa Fiora and Prime Minister of Tuscany, stood with the King's approval. "It would be wise for Your Majesty and his council to bear the circumstances of our peninsula in mind; for there endures Italians -- conveyors of our very blood -- who would oppose said notion of unification."

"Una nozione impossibile!" spouted another parliamentarian.

The Prime Minister dismissed the comment. "Far from it. But it will require tireless effort. Toscana has lost its grasp on influence. We must rebuilt before we can conquer."

Ottone di Valerio,
Conte di Santa Fiora

"Conquer, Signore Valerio?" chuckled Alberico de' Laurentis, the Barone di Galluzzo and Tuscan Minister of Finance. He was a thin aristocrat with the hoarse voice of a barbarian, and his baritone vocals engulfed the chamber's air. "Conquer Venice, sì? Conquer the napoletani? And with what force do we, the infinitesimal Tuscans, conquer? Are we to arm the common people? 'Come-all-ye, woman and children, to receive a gun for our cause!'" The Barone di Galluzzo continued in spite of his fellow ministers' quiet laughter. "It is economically and societally unfeasible. Truthfully, I-"

"We do not strive to forge a Tuscan Empire, Lord Ministers." came the prevailing interruption of Ignatius. The entire political body redirected their attention to the sovereign. The consulenti respectfully returned to their seats. "Nor a Papal, Sicilian, or Venetian realm of dominance." He stood, his ceremonial sword clamoring against his boots as he stepped before the advisory. "We strive to forge Italia. Understand that this kingdom does not aim for domination. Instead, we will glue our peninsular peoples together in a fashion that has not been seen since the Caesars."

"Your Majesty," the Prime Minister inquired. "Should these glorious kingdoms be united, what would become the conflicting ruling houses? Better yet, what would become of your own family?"

"There will be ample time to discuss such specifics." said Ignatius. "But now, we focus on matters at hand. Signore di Bondesan?"

Giovanni di Bondesan, Duca di Siena and Minister of Foreign Affairs, stood to address the advisory. "Majesty," he greeted. "We have received word from the Swiss ministry regarded a renewal of the Sitten terms." He placed his spectacles over his eyes as he scanned the diplomatic message. "Chancellor Hans Johann Schmitz of the Swiss Republic writes to Your Majesty:

'Greetings. I write to you about the renewal of the Treaty of Sitten, signed between your Tuscany and my own Switzerland, though for my own nation by my predecessor. It is due for renewal on the 21st of August, as you may know, and my newly elected government would like to continue it. We would be glad to host a resigning in Sitten, or, if you wish, a renegotiation of terms, either in Sitten or elsewhere in Switzerland or Tuscany. I await your reply, and thank you for your consideration in advance.'

"Sent on the first of April, the year of Christ, 1835."

The Tuscan Prime Minister cleared his throat. "Your Majesty," he motioned. "If I may?"

Ignatius nodded. "You may."

"If we are to succeed in achieving unification, Toscana's friendly relations with the Swiss shall be crucial. They supply troops to our Corpo della Svizzera, and their markets provide an outlet to trade with the German states. For the betterment of Toscana and future Italia, I propose closer ties to the Swiss Republic-"

"To the Swiss radicals," Alberico de' Laurentis interjected. "Who turn their backs upon the Diritto divino!"

Tens of parliamentarians began to whisper amongst themselves, but the sovereign quickly dismissed the concerns of the Finance Minister. "Our governmental differences are quite irrelevant, for the Swiss are not Italian. An alliance with Switzerland is purely beneficial. Their troops grant us stability, and our stability grants them a sphere of influence within the peninsula."

de' Laurentis snorted. "And what is stopping the Swiss from turning to Venezia?"

Eventually, the Duca di Siena cut back into the debate. "Venezia's impending war with the Turks makes her a risky investment. Besides, our powerful naval forces allow for the security of Swiss trade in the northwestern Mediterranean. We are the wisest of choices. There cannot be any doubt."

"Then we negotiate for mutual defense." confirmed Ignatius, directing his attention towards di Bondesan. "Signore di Bondesan! Reply to the Chancellor Hans Johann Schmitz immediately. I would also like word sent to the Two Sicilies. We must establish a firm trade network with the Neapolitans, else risk increasing tensions in the south."

---

From the Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Kingdom of Tuscany

---

To Hans Johann Schmitz, Chancellor of the Swiss Republic:

The Tuscan government agrees that the treaty's renewal is in the best interest of both our great nations. His Majesty, Ignatius IV, has agreed to the offered resigning in Zurich. His Majesty also expresses interest in negotiating terms of mutual defense. Should this notion intrigue your administration, we would discuss the specific provisions of said alliance in Zurich. As the head of the Tuscan Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I propose our representatives meet in three weeks' time.

Cordially,

Giovanni di Bondesan

Giovanni di Bondesan, Duca di Siena
Minister of Foreign Affairs

From the Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Kingdom of Tuscany

---

To His Majesty, Ferdinand II de Bourbon of the Two Sicilies:

Greetings! Given the current tensions between the Papal States and her Neapolitan neighbors, the Tuscan government invites Your Majesty (or, by extension, Your Majesty's representatives) to Florence for a meeting with King Ignatius IV; the discussions will regard a trade agreement between our two glorious nations -- our two glorious Italian nations. We respectfully await your reply. Best of wishes.

Cordially,

Giovanni di Bondesan

Giovanni di Bondesan, Duca di Siena
Minister of Foreign Affairs

[Alleniana]

RES PVBLICA HELVETICA



The Turning CogsP3 429

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An outhouse of Kanzlerhütte, Stand Schwyz, Schweizerische Republik
22nd April, MDCCCXXXV Anno Domini

Hungary, France, the Netherlands, Scandinavia, perhaps Tuscany now, due in a fortnight, each in their turn did bend their corporeal agents to the deed. Agents had made their way into Munich without much trouble, posing as travellers of all sorts, and the funds they funnelled were making their way into the correct hands quickly. The date of the Schwartz Plan's first active stage was set to the 1st of June, then by Midsummer's Day on the 24th, the writs would be issued, and the final active stage would be commenced by the Ides of July. Information would soon be dispatched to all involved, and Switzerland would rise.

Hans Johann Schmitz, Adam Folger Schwartz, and Markus von Lochau, the triad of architects who had created the plan, sat at the same table, angled haphazardly, papers scattered all over the table bathed in latticed sunlight. There were no windows, and the glass roof was firmly secured by an iron grid, sloping upwards gently as if to soften its purpose. The walls were thick, and of red brick, with insets that may have once been intended for windows, blocked up decoratively. There was only one door, an impressive single piece of oak that clicked snugly into the frame, and yet which only opened into a small foyer, with another door between it and the inner chamber, with glass around the second door; those within could see who was coming in before the one entering could hear their words.

And, once having passed each of these locked doors, only then was the entry maker greeted with the sight of the room, a mighty desk sprawling across the centre with stubby wooden chairs of the same grain around it, and bookshelves on most of the walls. And, of course, the three men, the politician, the diplomat and the general, seated leaning towards each other as if in confidence.

"I believe Tuscany will declare. My conversations with them indicated it so; I did not broach it specifically, but definitely, I believe they are of a mind to. They still maintain a force closer to genuine Swiss mercenaries than will be found anywhere in Europe, and you both know what they think of Sitten. It is a good position, and based on what I've encountered with my talks on the continental round, as well, I see no reason why they would refuse. Our reputation is good, our situation secure."

Schwartz was by far the youngest man there, and the only one who hadn't been born by the start of the French Revolution, though that was a close-run affair. Young as he was, he was still older than he looked, with an open face like one in his late twenties or early thirties. He had joined the diplomatic service in his twenties, after a couple of modest inheritances from his extended family enabled him to attend various academies, though none too radical. His father, a milliner from the north with some experience as a woodcutter, and his mother, a housewife, had had three children, a baby boy, then him, then his sister. All in all, it was a fairly unremarkable life he'd led, other than the luck that had afforded him a place in the diplomatic service, where he'd started as only a lowly roaming assistant.

He hadn't stood out, not at all, until a particular summer's day when the man he was helping with paperwork had come down with some kind of respiratory disease. It didn't seem particularly infectious, but all the same, he was unfit to come to work. The office he ran was small, but a relatively important foreign noble was coming over, and there were few others who could step up. Only eventually was a man from an office perhaps half a day away to make reception, and to make things worse, the visitor arrived early. When the time of reception came, he calmly brought the man to the table and entertained him as a guest for the rest of the day, until the replacement arrived, by which time it was already dark. Sweaty and tired, the replacement representative found that far from annoyed, the gentleman was impressed with Schwartz's charm, charisma and good grace. He brought the other man a bit more time to freshen up, and then he stepped aside, the negotiations beginning in earnest, perhaps even better than they would have gone before, Schwartz having buttered the fellow up.

It wasn't an instant promotion that had followed, but that had been the start of his rise and recognition as an up-and-coming, managing a smaller diplomatic office all by himself soon with all the transactions and courtesies it entailed, and then a larger regional one, and finally finding himself one of the pool of top level diplomats that the government would find to conduct most official national business. His modesty, calm demeanour and social grace, finally, shortly after his recovery of a fellow diplomat's spectacular faux pas at a German Confederation function, had landed him first the assignment to Budapest, and then to Paris because of his knowledge of French, and finally, now having experience than many older, the rest of assignments entailed in what was now named after him, for lack of a better name; the Schwartz Plan. Rushing all over Europe with his retinue increasing with his notability, he was now the single diplomat primarily responsible for the plan's foreign relations aspect, both because of his now comprehensive knowledge, the good relations he'd fostered, and the need to keep things quiet. He was, indeed, still just a young diplomat conveying messages, officially, not even head of the diplomatic service, but he was now in the top echelons, and had far more substantial influence than his title suggested, and, even, he was perhaps now the successor to the head of the service, a senile old man. Not, however, that he'd deigned to use his influence, except in a professional capacity, so far.

"I suppose so. I am not entirely convinced, but you have leave to try to get them on board. I think, they would at least give us material aid. I think you can get that done. In any case, they are small fry; it is France, Prussia, Russia, and the Holy Roman Empire itself that we need to worry about, and particularly the timing. I have been told by the man in charge of the operation that the 1st of the month is an achievable target, and that if it's off, it'll only be off by a day or so."

That was the chancellor, leader of an expanded majority in the government coalition as of a few months ago. This, his second term, had been going well so far, but in neither his first nor his second had he attempted such an ambitious project, one that would catapult Switzerland into a new era. If it succeeded, it would go down forever; not one of the tax code simplifications, not the reform of the supply for the army, not any of those would hold a candle to it. He, too, like Schwartz, was from relatively humble beginnings, and now risen to this height, alongside his country. To propel it to newer heights or see it fall with himself, he did not know. But, as was in his ambitious nature, try he would. He was probably the least easily characterised of the three in the room; a mild ambition with a strong mind, he was able to make his way towards the highest ranks of society, as he found himself. He had morals, but neither were they ineffective nor ironclad; somewhere in between. His intellect, nay, his ability, defined him, his character stepping back from it. A pity, perhaps, for his personal life, but something that might well prove the ultimate boon to the country he served.

"Well, as you said, if we want to start things off by the 15th of the month after on the ground, then I can have that done. The plans are all drawn up, and I can start issuing them on the 1st, quietly, and then more obviously on the 24th. That will leave a gap that's good enough to have them move out by 15th July. I've seen them in action, I don't think leaks will be a problem. Unless you want more security than that, but I don't think it's plausible for it to leak early enough to have discernible effect anyway. Winners write history, as they say."

If Markus von Lochau was assured of security's chances, then they were well and truly secured; he was undoubtedly the most paranoid fellow there, though still not properly paranoid. Just closer to the edge. It had, at least, been a great boon, combined with the chancellor's perfectionist tendencies, when they had embarked patching up the holes and strengthening the espionage and supply branches of the military. He was no spy, true, but he was both a strategist and a tactician, and experienced, at least in conflict situations. He was the general, the army man, going so far to emulate the stereotypical gruff army man stereotype that he even had a modicum of noble blood, a bushy moustache and a gruffness about him. Few could doubt his abilities; despite his aristocratic roots, they were well and truly exterminated, and in fact, his surname did not even originate from that background; his great-grandfather had been a peasant from Lochau, and his mother the one from high society. A high level general in the Swiss Army, formally an Army-General-at-Large, he was the one representing the ground forces in the plan. The actual Nation-General was stepping aside soon, for age and health reasons, and he was expected widely to take over the role. For now, though, it involved too much paperwork, and so once the things going on were over, bureaucracy would be cut aside, and then von Lochau installed, with his predecessor's approval. In any case, he would become I Army-General in the course of things anyway. Just not yet, lest word leak out, or organisation be thrown out of array.

"Indeed, winners do, so let us win. I'm fine with your schedule. And, as to Tuscany, I believe that will be fine too."

The chancellor paused for a second, and finished.

"It's settled, then; the planning is done, now only execution. I have to caucus with the coalition soon, so unless there is anything else to be raised? We will meet again here, ask to be shown to the converted greenhouse. Same time, in two days, to report on things. Remember security precautions and all that. Are we concluded?"

As much of a chorus as can be called one from two people arose in agreement, and the chancellor pulled on the door handle to exit.

[The Industrial States of Columbia]

June 1st, 1835

Munich, The Holy Roman Empire

The sun danced across metallic ornaments on pristine uniforms, the rhythmic rolling of boots cutting through the crisp and clear air. But Odric Hopfe couldn't help but feel uneasy as the parade progressed through the city. Where usually cheers and shouts could be heard ringing when they marched through, today there was eerie silence. Not that he could blame the populace for their lack of enthusiasm. Curfew and censors had descended on the city since the untimely death of the kindly old emperor and the rise of his hot-headed son.

Rumors persisted that Ferdinand suffered from fits of paranoia, in addition to his tempestuous disposition. Where as the old Emperor had been beloved by the people for his benevolence and grace, Ferdinand within a year had gained a reputation as a disturbed tyrant. He had brought down iron on any demonstration, any slight discontent, anything that put question to his absolute power. It had all come to culmination with republican demonstrations in Munich just two months prior to the parade. Police and guards were sent in to arrest all who vocalized objection to the empire, and when they resisted, protesters were beaten down by clubs and dragged away.

The procession continued on with all the energy of a funeral procession. A harsh, dry cry echoed from further ahead in the parade, “Present!!!!” Drums began to beat and standards were swiftly raised at the command, and Odric briefly glanced through the ranks at the man who had given it.

Captain Wilhelm Vormann was a cold, serious individual, whose attention was undesired in the best of times. His pale blue eyes coupled with wispy gray hair and translucent skin made him look more like a ghost than a man. Weathering on his face and faint lines marred his skin only inspection, and lines around his mouth hinted that he frowned much more often than he smiled. His loyalty to the Empire and its Emperor was absolute, coupled with a mindset towards protecting the state that would make Machiavelli proud.

As the parade continued through the Marienplatz, Odric heard hushed whispering, building into what took the form of a song. Suddenly red, black and gold banners were raised among the crowds, and the song of the Republicans crescendoed into a joyous roar. The energy of the chant coursed through the crowds and the square, even some of the soldiers began to sing. The parade slowly was guided away from its course, surrounded by the cheer and song of the people of Munich. Odric even found himself singing, just barely noticing a group of mounted officers galloping out of the crowd. They circled around the square, united in a sense of purpose and the song.

As suddenly as it had begun, the song died down, followed by barking of barely legible orders and the clomping of infantry boots. Vormann trotted to the side of one of the infantry blocks, pausing to survey the crowd before crying out, “HALT!!!”

A group of men towards the front of the crowd pulled out pistols, aiming at Vormann. He tensed before giving the order, “DRAW!!”

As the reinforcements snapped up their weapons, the soldiers that had been part of the parade struggled in to follow suit. Cries of panic echoed through the crowd as the pushed to get clear of the Imperial firing path. In the confusion, a parade soldier's rifle went off, and the cries of panic turned to rage and condemnation. Odric and several others followed an officer out of the mob as more shots rang out and gun smoke began to cloud the air.

“SUPPRESIVE FIRE! SUPPRESIVE FIRE!!!”, someone shouted before a pistol shot silenced them. As Odric and a group of Imperial soldiers rushed to regroup away from the square, he saw Vormann pulled down from his horse by a group of men. They continued back, the mob following as they did, until they reached a defensible position by a street corner.

Quick successions of muffled orders followed by rifle reports continued to add to the din of the mob. As the mob surged forward, Odric was pushed down into an ally, the angry throng pushing his comrades further down the street. As he tried to rise, a gray coated figure slammed into him, sending him tumbling. He grappled with the attacker, trying to gain any advantage he could against them. Odric finally managed to maneuver his rifle into a mobile position, and he slammed the butt of his weapon into the stomach of his foe. The figure fell, winded and dazed, to the ground.

Odric awkwardly struggled to his feet as quickly as possible and snapped his weapon on the assailant, “NOT ANOTHER MOVE!” He briskly walked forward, using his rifle to lift the hood from his attacker's face. What he saw made his mind spin with doubt.

The boy's face remained tight with anger, his eyes burning into Odric, as if he was the source of the oppression and suffering the Empire had brought. He couldn't be more than twelve or thirteen years old. He could have a family in days to come, a wife and sons. He could be a doctor or an inventor, someone who would bring peace to the nation instead of war. Odric would not take his life away to further perpetuate a cycle of war and suppression. He would not have the boy's blood on his hands and mind. Odric slowly lowered his weapon, before giving a single order, "Go... quickly!"

The boy's face contorted in a mixture of confusion and gratitude, and giving Odric a nervous nod, he scrambled for the street. Odric sighed in relief, feeling the weight of his role in the Empire's tyranny lift from his shoulders. Then he heard the distinctive report of an Austrian Rifle and it all came crushing back. The boy crumpled to the ground, dark blood staining his gray jacket. Captain Vormann stepped around the corner of the alley, kneeling down to examine the body. Odric felt bile rising in his throat and turned away. It wasn't supposed to be like this. The army was supposed to protect the people, not slaughter them. The captain glanced up at Odric, “Why didn't you shoot him?”

Odric swallowed back the sickness rising from his stomach, and replied, “He was just a boy. He wasn't a threat.”

“He was engaging in willful acts of rebellion against the empire, his fate was deserved.”

“We protect the people of this empire, we don't slaughter them like butchers,” Odric sputtered out.

Vormann sighed, expressing what might have been consolation in his tone, “We protect the people through our protection of order in this empire. When the people show intention to cripple this order, they must be made examples of.”

He delicately moved the edges of the boy's jacket to cover the blood on his body before standing up to continue, “No exception can be made. The smallest amount of corruption will fester and become a mortal wound in time.”

Odric shifted uncomfortably, heat rising in his chest and cheeks, struggling to hold a number of foul words back.

Vormann calmly finished, “You will understand this service to the state in time,” before turning to continue his duties elsewhere.


-Not Really too much Wip, but letters to be here detailing the emperor's crackdown on security and the secession of Palatinate from the empire for fluff-

[Alleniana]

RES PVBLICA HELVETICA



Bellum IustumP4 429

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Schweizer Kaffeehaus, Stand Schwyz, Schweizerische Republik
25th June, MDCCCXXXV Anno Domini

The Government of the Republic of Switzerland

Public Notice
Divisions IX to XVI for Parade, Marshalling and Training
Issued the 1st of June, 1835 A.D.

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Divisions IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV and XVI, currently in reserve, will be called up for military exercises and training, and a roll call at their assigned marshalling grounds; men should be present by the 1st of July. After this, there will be a parade for those units, before they are demobilised. This whole proceeding will be finished in a few weeks, depending on various factors. Messengers will be around to notify those relevant. Non-attendance is illegal and will be punished. If you wish to transfer to a different division before this, either into or out of a unit that will be called up, lodge the request at your nearest army office; it may take some time, so do this as soon as possible to ensure that you are transferred by your desired date. If you do not know what division you are in, check your military badge, or, if you do not have access to it, consult your nearest army office. A military office is also where applications for exemption or assessments of ineligibility are requested and held; also make sure to do this as soon as possible for speedy conveyance. Make sure that if you keep your uniform with you, it is clean, in good shape and complete. This operation is known as II-Exercise-1835, and copies of its text can be found at all government offices, including military ones. It was signed off on by the Chancellor, Hans Johann Schmitz, Prime Minister Ludwig von Delius, Chief Judge Otto Herzog Sebastian and Nation-General Friedrich Bernhard von Hardt, who caused this pamphlet to be issued.

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The Swiss Herald
Edition 22, regular | 4th of June, 1835 A.D. | One silver schilling

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Munich Marchers Massacred
Editorial

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Written by Chief Editor Franz Ludendorff von Ravensburg

On the 1st of July, Habsburger troops fired on unarmed demonstrators in Munich, killing or maiming hundreds. The marchers, not making any trouble, were singing pan-German songs and walking through the streets of the city, when they came across a column of soldiers on parade. They promptly formed up and began firing into the crowd, simply for being in their path, and for expressing sentiments other than those that promoted the existing, conservative order, that of the antiquated Holy Roman Empire, though but a shadow of its pre-Napoleonic self now. The marchers, unoffensive and citizens of the state which the soldiers were so sworn to protect, were scattered, with many casualties children and women.

It is clear to us, at the Swiss Herald, that no matter the context of these actions, they were an atrocity, that invite condemnation. The disgusting act of causing soldiers to fire indiscriminately on one's own people itself is bad enough, and yet not only that but, the people themselves were not armed or dangerous, posing no threat, while the soldiers did not even have any good reason to fire, but to preserve themselves against song and cheer. The bayonet and the shot ball, it seems, were the only things strong enough to counter their peaceful ideals.

Thus, the incident vividly outlines the mindset and attitude of the Habsburg emperors; they are not there for the well-being of their subjects, for their people's good, but rather, only for themselves. Even if it poses reasonable demands, or if it poses no demands at all but disagreeing, it seems, they must crush dissent under an iron fist. They either cannot, or will not allow their people the right to think, feel, speak, gather and pray as they wish; they are incapable, intolerant or irresponsible.

Indeed, the predecessor to the current monarch was more lenient; he did not engender hate, and crack down with steel and fire on those he reigned over. His rule was better, but for the child that he raised so incapably. He was a good king, so to speak; perhaps, this current man is just a bad apple in a barrel of good ones. Indeed, the Habsburg domains, and other realms of dynastic rulers, are not particularly badly-off on this continent.

But even he was the only restraint on himself from tyranny and terror, and that restraint is not found in many, least of all madmen like the current one who holds the sovereignty. The system itself does not place the most meritorious, or even the most popular person into state; it takes one arbitrarily born of bloodlines, a useless, nonsensical, feudal system, that makes only sense if nations are but as possessions to be passed from parent to child. They are not. And thus, when chance has its hand at birth, both idiots and geniuses alike are thrust to the forefronts of countries, regardless of what effect it will have on the people, to whom the nation truly belongs, and indeed, is composed of, and cannot exist without. At present, this flawed despotic government that still persists has installed a violent idiot, who performs most detestable and despicable actions.

But this state of affairs cannot last; no man, no matter how capable, brutal or efficient, can impose their will to a whim on a people with the numbers and characteristics of the German one over which the Habsburgs partly preside. Repression cannot crush the indomitable spirit of a people, certainly not repression born from idleness, stupidity, cruelty, or whatever it is that motivates the massacring monster. He and his cronies, it seems, are finally meeting their match; as the human race has advanced, it has finally produced populations of sufficient development and progression to rise up, to seize their own destinies, to reclaim the stolen sovereignties owed to them. We have reached a stage whereupon an era ends; the era of tyrants.

Therefore, let us exhort the Bavarians, the Germans, who are finding their feet against their oppressors. even at such great cost as was seen in Munich. Let us, who were granted righteousness early, bring it to the world; democracy, republicanism, to our great German family. This Switzerland in which we reside is a construction, one which we dearly defend, but still only a construction. We are a state, but not a nation; therefore, let us not only encourage liberal revolution to our east, but foment it, and even, with the force of arms, lay down our own lives and join in the fight for good. We fight evil, not only in self defence, but to establish a greater, perfect union, that of the German people, and not only that, but ruled by none other than the German people. It is not only allowable, but exclusively correct that a people destroy their unjust, crushing overlord, and it is further only proper to aid such a noble, even if wearying task, along with its sacrifices. Let us rise up against these criminals who hold such temporal power, and show that we know what the right is, for anything less would be to betray such principles as liberty, equality and fraternity. We stand in the light, and on our borders, our neighbour is in darkness; let us bring our neighbour into the light.

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Copies of a fierce ultimatum sent to the Holy Roman Empire, demanding the defence of human rights, have been uncovered. Schwaben Printers is proud to bring you this state document of paramount importance and relevance.

One Schilling

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RES PVBLICA HELVETICA
Official Communication of the of the Government of the Swiss Republic
DIPLOMATIC

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TO Emperor (x) von Habsburg of the Holy Roman Empire
FROM Chancellor Hans Johann Schmitz of the Swiss Republic
SENT 24/6/1835

As you may know, the Swiss Republic has been greatly offended and aggrieved by the actions taken by your government and its military against a recent demonstration in Munich. While Switzerland is not prone to intervention, the brutal slaughter perpetrated in Munich, to your great shame, is something that simply cannot stand, and goes against everything that Switzerland protects and holds dear. It suggests, even, that the Holy Roman Empire is no longer able to handle itself as a proper state, either on the diplomatic stage, or internally, and has become something of a failed state. Thus, on behalf of those affected and others whose opinions express disgust, we issue the following ultimatum;

That the Holy Roman Empire will recognise the wrongness of its actions, apologise for what it has done, and denounce the acts it committed in Munich, and not only that, but the motivations behind it, the perpetrators, and anything else or anyone else who abetted, sponsored or aided the acts, or who aids, abets, or sponsors further or past acts of a similar nature,

That take steps to right wrongs are taken, such as repaying all victims for their injuries and the family and friends of those killed, paying for state funerals for those killed, removing those responsible from their positions and charging them, and reimbursing any material damage caused,

That the Holy Roman Empire will take steps to safeguard against such future violations of the nature of man, by implementing political reform that puts the people in power and thus disables the mechanism for the military to oppress its own people, and by creating freedoms and rights designed to curtail the legality and possibility of the occasions in Munich, including but not limited to free speech, a legislature not behold to the emperor but the people, suffrage, a constitution and equality before the law,

If the Holy Roman Empire takes these steps to correct not only what happened in Munich, but other fundamental issues that led to it and that continue to simmer as injustice, then the Swiss government gives its word that war and disaster will be averted on its part. Else, little can be assured, for the Holy Roman Empire would essentially become a moot state, in powers, legality and morality.