What is past is prologue: Constancia
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What is past is prologue: Constancia
Jaime Augusto Joaquin Primo de Aguilar was a busy man.
In retrospect, he had no one to blame but himself. He was always something of a workhorse. Duty was a calling for him, and duty always took precedence. He was sworn to it, after all.
In his younger years, he had taken up law and taught history at the military staff college of the Empire of the Alexandrians, not to mention casual reconnaissance of the available female terrain, until he met Consuelo.
And then he lost her, as well as Eugenia.
He was never the same man again. Women were attractive, yes, but they were also mortal, and he could never bring himself to reach that level of dedication again.
He threw himself into his work, learning how to lead and command men, and how best to use them in battle. There was the rancho in Santander, which he had also learned to manage, there being no one else to take care of it save his ailing father.
Then his old man had died as well, and he was alone in the world.
He found a way to bury the past by finding ways to champion the causes of others. Many approached him when he was on leave at the rancho, to sip sangria and sample the tapas, discussing the merits of bulls, the beef trade, soldiery, legal issues and those jefes valiente y talentoso. Being a man of the sword and of some learning, he was seen as a leader, and was soon prevailed upon to stand as a candidate for Santiago, which he won, year after year after year, even reaching the pinnacle to lead the Empire as its first servant.
Then that, too, had crumbled like ashes.
* * *
He was lucky to be alive, having come from the rare MTO session which was nothing more than a mere formality. On receiving word of the situation he had made his way to the Embassy in Haraldsborg, ready to take charge - but it was all futile.
And now he was here, and his desk was full. He had four desks, actually - for Theme business, for Bank business, for Ministry business, and for Council and Royal business. The fifth desk remained empty - the High Court had little happening anyway, these days. It was all enough to truly burden a man, but Primo de Aguilar, thanks to his military training, had learned to compartmentalize problems and attack them from many directions. He had also learned the military discipline of waking early for a run before breakfast, even if he had spent the night studying state papers.
Today was a good case in point. Run accomplished, shower completed, lingering over breakfast in his full uniform, his remaining quiet time to contemplate before the assaulting madness of the day-to-day, yet another typical 12-hour day in service to the Constancian state.
Constancia, thanks to its close trade relations with the Bovic Empire, was doing a rather healthy trade in bagels, juice, and other assorted dairies, although he didn't quite subscribe to the notion that the oleo he used to flavor his breakfast was inherently divine. He was a fan of Alexandrian croissants than the local paximathia, but at least he had the somewhat-Alexandrian coffee to go with it.
Constancia had a lot of problems. There was the postwar rehabilitation, recovery, and reconstruction to think about, not to mention the unexploded ordnance, which the respective Themes were already hard-pressed to consider; the trade deficits and the lack of self-sufficiency in food, calming the restive public and political atmosphere, provide for their education and gainful employment, develop a sense of civic responsibility and community, the need to bolster the national defense and the skill level of those in uniform, the need to develop a healthy ease-of-doing-business, invite foreign investors, and develop local and international financial markets: essentially, to secure the Free and Associative Kingdom's precarious place in this very dangerous world.
It was difficult, challenging, tiring work, but Primo de Aguilar was up to challenge. It just required a focusing of effort, a coordination of endeavors, nothing that he hadn't already done. Time to pick up the couriered Shinjitsu and amuse himself with the latest, blatantly-outlandish Jingdao lies, which were funnier than the comics page in the Constancia Nea. Perhaps in a few years' time, they could even take pride in what they had accomplished, but it would require at the very least, a decade of concerted national effort, at which time, maybe...
The cup that shattered on the floor, spilling coffee on the marble, was completely ignored,with only rapidly retreating bootsteps to be heard.
In retrospect, he had no one to blame but himself. He was always something of a workhorse. Duty was a calling for him, and duty always took precedence. He was sworn to it, after all.
In his younger years, he had taken up law and taught history at the military staff college of the Empire of the Alexandrians, not to mention casual reconnaissance of the available female terrain, until he met Consuelo.
And then he lost her, as well as Eugenia.
He was never the same man again. Women were attractive, yes, but they were also mortal, and he could never bring himself to reach that level of dedication again.
He threw himself into his work, learning how to lead and command men, and how best to use them in battle. There was the rancho in Santander, which he had also learned to manage, there being no one else to take care of it save his ailing father.
Then his old man had died as well, and he was alone in the world.
He found a way to bury the past by finding ways to champion the causes of others. Many approached him when he was on leave at the rancho, to sip sangria and sample the tapas, discussing the merits of bulls, the beef trade, soldiery, legal issues and those jefes valiente y talentoso. Being a man of the sword and of some learning, he was seen as a leader, and was soon prevailed upon to stand as a candidate for Santiago, which he won, year after year after year, even reaching the pinnacle to lead the Empire as its first servant.
Then that, too, had crumbled like ashes.
* * *
He was lucky to be alive, having come from the rare MTO session which was nothing more than a mere formality. On receiving word of the situation he had made his way to the Embassy in Haraldsborg, ready to take charge - but it was all futile.
And now he was here, and his desk was full. He had four desks, actually - for Theme business, for Bank business, for Ministry business, and for Council and Royal business. The fifth desk remained empty - the High Court had little happening anyway, these days. It was all enough to truly burden a man, but Primo de Aguilar, thanks to his military training, had learned to compartmentalize problems and attack them from many directions. He had also learned the military discipline of waking early for a run before breakfast, even if he had spent the night studying state papers.
Today was a good case in point. Run accomplished, shower completed, lingering over breakfast in his full uniform, his remaining quiet time to contemplate before the assaulting madness of the day-to-day, yet another typical 12-hour day in service to the Constancian state.
Constancia, thanks to its close trade relations with the Bovic Empire, was doing a rather healthy trade in bagels, juice, and other assorted dairies, although he didn't quite subscribe to the notion that the oleo he used to flavor his breakfast was inherently divine. He was a fan of Alexandrian croissants than the local paximathia, but at least he had the somewhat-Alexandrian coffee to go with it.
Constancia had a lot of problems. There was the postwar rehabilitation, recovery, and reconstruction to think about, not to mention the unexploded ordnance, which the respective Themes were already hard-pressed to consider; the trade deficits and the lack of self-sufficiency in food, calming the restive public and political atmosphere, provide for their education and gainful employment, develop a sense of civic responsibility and community, the need to bolster the national defense and the skill level of those in uniform, the need to develop a healthy ease-of-doing-business, invite foreign investors, and develop local and international financial markets: essentially, to secure the Free and Associative Kingdom's precarious place in this very dangerous world.
It was difficult, challenging, tiring work, but Primo de Aguilar was up to challenge. It just required a focusing of effort, a coordination of endeavors, nothing that he hadn't already done. Time to pick up the couriered Shinjitsu and amuse himself with the latest, blatantly-outlandish Jingdao lies, which were funnier than the comics page in the Constancia Nea. Perhaps in a few years' time, they could even take pride in what they had accomplished, but it would require at the very least, a decade of concerted national effort, at which time, maybe...
The cup that shattered on the floor, spilling coffee on the marble, was completely ignored,with only rapidly retreating bootsteps to be heard.
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
OOC: Nice start.
Honoured Servant of the Jingdaoese Heavenly Light and the Kaiseress of Shireroth
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
OOC: Thank you!
Limitanei of the Home Guard of the Thema Oranjēsiōn patrolling the western Constancian border with the Khanate of Krasnarus on Kendall Isle, near the ruins of the port city of Atacama. Picture taken from the Krasnarusyn side of the border.
Since the onset of the recent conflict, the Free and Associative Kingdom of Constancia had taken a rather pragmatic view of the ongoing crisis, having chosen to promise nothing, and to likewise, do nothing.
In Vey, the Eighth Synklētos had just opened, but despite murmurs of a few dikastís, there was no call to action, nor fiery speeches of indignation, what with the nation struggling to recover from the protracted effects of the recent Euran War. The monarchist caretaker Basil Tzimiskes resumed his position as Mesazōn, and a new government was appointed. Permission was granted to open formal diplomatic relations with the Khanate of Krasnarus, although the Foreign Ministry took its time to send an envoy. Permission was likewise granted to open formal diplomatic relations with the nascent Kingdom of the Union of Caputia, with a mission of late making its way to Zalae.
In Kendall Isle, in the ostensible Thema Oranjēsiōn, the troops detailed there did nothing much except dig shallow trenches to delineate the Constancian side of the border, grumble about their lot in life in general, and otherwise keep a close eye on those opposite, enforcing strict border controls and regulations. The ships and aircraft patrolled and carefully observed the northwestern and southwestern waters and approaches, as scientists, civil servants, engineers, and associated workers continued their survey and scientific work, particularly at the area formerly known as Hatrecht, accompanied always by armed escort.
The regular armed forces and Home Guard maintained their perfunctory state of readiness, with all those mobilized since the Euran War remaining salaried and officially on active duty since then, (with some even reporting to their industrial and commercial civilian jobs armed and in full uniform) due to bureaucratic inertia and a lack of contrary instructions from Nirytos House. Education and healthcare remained a household and local-government issue with the lack of organized government ministries to take responsibility. Only the bean-counters at the newly-established Ministry of International Trade and Industry worried at the inflationary effects and M3 projections, as the entire country transitioned from a free currency regime to embrace their proudly homegrown Stater. Free trade with Natopia and Stormark, primarily through SEKEF, helped whet the Constancian appetite for all worldly consumer goods, with minimal precious metal and foreign currency reserves, the grossly disproportionate balance of payments, courageously supported by remittances from overseas Constancian workers, exports of Euran sand for cement, and a slowly-burgeoning trade in Constancian sponges, goats, and other Constancian cottage industries bravely tried to stem the tide.
The Micras Treaty Organization, in what could possibly be considered as a flurry of diplomatic activity in such a dawdling institution, pensively considered the question on the admittance of the Florian Republic as a full member, preferring to hem and haw despite active conflict taking place within the petitioner's borders. No member-nation decided to exercise its powers to somehow bring the international organization to take a greater role in mediating or resolving the crisis. Even its Secretary-General and Deputy Secretary-General remained (complicitly, some said) silent.
If there was anything that could have been remotely conceived as a reaction to the events in Apollonia, it was the deliberations legislating the Constancian Air Force into existence.
Then, on the 24th of Kraneios in the 39th year of the reign of the Constancian King Petros III, everything changed, and things started to happen.
Limitanei of the Home Guard of the Thema Oranjēsiōn patrolling the western Constancian border with the Khanate of Krasnarus on Kendall Isle, near the ruins of the port city of Atacama. Picture taken from the Krasnarusyn side of the border.
Since the onset of the recent conflict, the Free and Associative Kingdom of Constancia had taken a rather pragmatic view of the ongoing crisis, having chosen to promise nothing, and to likewise, do nothing.
In Vey, the Eighth Synklētos had just opened, but despite murmurs of a few dikastís, there was no call to action, nor fiery speeches of indignation, what with the nation struggling to recover from the protracted effects of the recent Euran War. The monarchist caretaker Basil Tzimiskes resumed his position as Mesazōn, and a new government was appointed. Permission was granted to open formal diplomatic relations with the Khanate of Krasnarus, although the Foreign Ministry took its time to send an envoy. Permission was likewise granted to open formal diplomatic relations with the nascent Kingdom of the Union of Caputia, with a mission of late making its way to Zalae.
In Kendall Isle, in the ostensible Thema Oranjēsiōn, the troops detailed there did nothing much except dig shallow trenches to delineate the Constancian side of the border, grumble about their lot in life in general, and otherwise keep a close eye on those opposite, enforcing strict border controls and regulations. The ships and aircraft patrolled and carefully observed the northwestern and southwestern waters and approaches, as scientists, civil servants, engineers, and associated workers continued their survey and scientific work, particularly at the area formerly known as Hatrecht, accompanied always by armed escort.
The regular armed forces and Home Guard maintained their perfunctory state of readiness, with all those mobilized since the Euran War remaining salaried and officially on active duty since then, (with some even reporting to their industrial and commercial civilian jobs armed and in full uniform) due to bureaucratic inertia and a lack of contrary instructions from Nirytos House. Education and healthcare remained a household and local-government issue with the lack of organized government ministries to take responsibility. Only the bean-counters at the newly-established Ministry of International Trade and Industry worried at the inflationary effects and M3 projections, as the entire country transitioned from a free currency regime to embrace their proudly homegrown Stater. Free trade with Natopia and Stormark, primarily through SEKEF, helped whet the Constancian appetite for all worldly consumer goods, with minimal precious metal and foreign currency reserves, the grossly disproportionate balance of payments, courageously supported by remittances from overseas Constancian workers, exports of Euran sand for cement, and a slowly-burgeoning trade in Constancian sponges, goats, and other Constancian cottage industries bravely tried to stem the tide.
The Micras Treaty Organization, in what could possibly be considered as a flurry of diplomatic activity in such a dawdling institution, pensively considered the question on the admittance of the Florian Republic as a full member, preferring to hem and haw despite active conflict taking place within the petitioner's borders. No member-nation decided to exercise its powers to somehow bring the international organization to take a greater role in mediating or resolving the crisis. Even its Secretary-General and Deputy Secretary-General remained (complicitly, some said) silent.
If there was anything that could have been remotely conceived as a reaction to the events in Apollonia, it was the deliberations legislating the Constancian Air Force into existence.
Then, on the 24th of Kraneios in the 39th year of the reign of the Constancian King Petros III, everything changed, and things started to happen.
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
Good things?n the 24th of Kraneios in the 39th year of the reign of the Constancian King Petros III, everything changed, and things started to happen.
Honoured Servant of the Jingdaoese Heavenly Light and the Kaiseress of Shireroth
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
Being granted plenipotentiary - almost regal, if not sovereign powers - even the legal right to denominate himself Co-Ruler of the Kingdom, most certainly appealed to the ego of the Autokrator, even though he considered it but an adequate donning of the role and powers required to further the transition of the Kingdom from being merely Free and Associative and into a modern state in its own right.
He had his priorities, of course. The first had been adequate recognition of those loyal Constancians who had borne the battle and come to the aid of the homeland in her hour of need. The second had been a swift kick in the arse for the otherwise-tepid development of the Basileus’s forces in the newest possession. The third had been secret, had taken up much of his time, as well as the time of a great many uniformed individual.
Sudden political developments involving their nearest and closest ally did not of course escape his notice, what with the Autokrat having survived several of these events in his past political life and in an Empire no longer existent. He had seen the light, literally and not figuratively, distantly at the Vey horizon, one evening while silently contemplating. His musings were confirmed by Natopian media that very next morning.
This Autokrat, although a self-professed political animal who enjoyed the cut-and-thrust of debate and intrigue, was no mere survivor. He knew how political winds and sands shifted. He also knew that Micras was likewise distracted.
He knew that the time was right. He knew he had to act. History had conspired to grant this opportunity, and Destiny demanded his acquiescence to the moment.
Being a mere mortal, he did as he was bid.
He had his priorities, of course. The first had been adequate recognition of those loyal Constancians who had borne the battle and come to the aid of the homeland in her hour of need. The second had been a swift kick in the arse for the otherwise-tepid development of the Basileus’s forces in the newest possession. The third had been secret, had taken up much of his time, as well as the time of a great many uniformed individual.
Sudden political developments involving their nearest and closest ally did not of course escape his notice, what with the Autokrat having survived several of these events in his past political life and in an Empire no longer existent. He had seen the light, literally and not figuratively, distantly at the Vey horizon, one evening while silently contemplating. His musings were confirmed by Natopian media that very next morning.
This Autokrat, although a self-professed political animal who enjoyed the cut-and-thrust of debate and intrigue, was no mere survivor. He knew how political winds and sands shifted. He also knew that Micras was likewise distracted.
He knew that the time was right. He knew he had to act. History had conspired to grant this opportunity, and Destiny demanded his acquiescence to the moment.
Being a mere mortal, he did as he was bid.
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
It was initially considered a training exercise, to see how fast the Nisian Theme of islands on western Eura could be reinforced by the Constancian Navy.
5 Northman class corvettes steamed offshore Cario, the easternmost major settlement of these western islands, filled to the brim with soldiers of the River Army, based at Portus Felix.
One of those who was annoyed by this was Plotarchis Vasilefs Konstantinos, commander of His Constancian Majesty's Ship Georgios Averof and veteran of the Dromosker Island action. The only sacred place was his own cabin. Even his favorite smoking spot, at the ship's bow, had been occupied.
Minor replenishment of the flotilla had taken place, eating up the whole afternoon, and at dusk, the ships soon set sail. Many of those aboard thought they were on their way back to Portus Felix, and they slept well on that.
After dinner, signal-lamp communication directed senior officers afloat to open their respective orders safes. All were surprised to note that the orders envelopes did not carry the usual seal, but a variant of the regal signet in crimson wax. The officers of the watch on the respective ships were given verbal orders, and the senior officers afloat got what sleep they could. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
At 0400H the senior officers were in their respective bridge chairs, while above and belowdecks, the army men were roused from their sleep and directed to eat. At 0500H, the rays of Atos began to rise on the horizon, with the coast before the flotilla very evident, as all ships went to general quarters. At 0515H, radar at the combat information centers of each ship picked up multiple blips proceeding northeasterly, and minutes later, the roar of Constancian AW 101s drowned out conversation.
It all seemed a fairly realistic exercise at first, and one that the officers were surprised to be part of, which also explained their recently increased training regimen. Soon enough, the crackling of radio communications and hurried shouts revealed the situation on the ground.
5 Northman class corvettes steamed offshore Cario, the easternmost major settlement of these western islands, filled to the brim with soldiers of the River Army, based at Portus Felix.
One of those who was annoyed by this was Plotarchis Vasilefs Konstantinos, commander of His Constancian Majesty's Ship Georgios Averof and veteran of the Dromosker Island action. The only sacred place was his own cabin. Even his favorite smoking spot, at the ship's bow, had been occupied.
Minor replenishment of the flotilla had taken place, eating up the whole afternoon, and at dusk, the ships soon set sail. Many of those aboard thought they were on their way back to Portus Felix, and they slept well on that.
After dinner, signal-lamp communication directed senior officers afloat to open their respective orders safes. All were surprised to note that the orders envelopes did not carry the usual seal, but a variant of the regal signet in crimson wax. The officers of the watch on the respective ships were given verbal orders, and the senior officers afloat got what sleep they could. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
At 0400H the senior officers were in their respective bridge chairs, while above and belowdecks, the army men were roused from their sleep and directed to eat. At 0500H, the rays of Atos began to rise on the horizon, with the coast before the flotilla very evident, as all ships went to general quarters. At 0515H, radar at the combat information centers of each ship picked up multiple blips proceeding northeasterly, and minutes later, the roar of Constancian AW 101s drowned out conversation.
It all seemed a fairly realistic exercise at first, and one that the officers were surprised to be part of, which also explained their recently increased training regimen. Soon enough, the crackling of radio communications and hurried shouts revealed the situation on the ground.
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
Overview:
Operation Debellatio, a Constancian police action against suspected Xecha crime syndicate stragglers, Nivardomski Otechestvenofrontovska insurgents, brigands, and general enemies of the Constancian state. Primary target: The settlement of Aqaba, central Eura.
OrBat:
Spoiler!
Narrative:
Airmobile infantry disembark from helicopters on enemy soil at dawn, 0530H, and surge into the city of Aqaba. Remaining 2 helicopters (60 infantry) secure an emergency evacuation point. As each household is cleared, men of military age are segregated from women and children, with the men of military age sent to kneel in the dirt with hands tied, under armed guard, at the nearest open space.
Any confirmed dissidents are evacuated via helicopter to the ships offshore via armed guard. Resistance is treated with maximum tolerance. Any armed resistance is met with reciprocal force. No vessels are permitted to sail.
Any particularly violent or bothersome city sectors are radioed for ground mortar, air, or naval gunfire support. Significant strongpoints are reinforced with machine guns and grenadier infantry.
At 0630H, seaborne platoons on rowboats reinforce via the beach, extracting any walking wounded. City sectors are secured. Mopping-up operations continue throughout the day. Curfew is declared from sundown to sunup.
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Re: What is past is prologue: Constancia
It had taken some secrecy, but he had made it.
The Autokrat of Constancia (the current one, anyway, while the Basileusa and Autokrateia took a break from managing the day-to-day affairs of the Constancian state) stood on the bridge of a Northman-class corvette, examining the video feed from a helicopter flying over Aqaba.
This settlement was a dump, that much was true, and even the most squalid tenements he'd seen in his Alexandrian days were at least a magnitude better: they had electricity, some semblance of running water, and for the lucky ones, even cable television. Intelligence from forces on the ground had confirmed his initial suspicions: the wretches who had the misfortune of settling here were nomadic indigents and itinerant tinkers, and those whose abject poverty led to a persuasion towards petty crimes of theft and murder in order to get by and to keep body and soul together.
Well, no more of that.
The operation had continued as planned. Identified Xecha crime syndicate stragglers were given a free third-class ticket to safe and secure government housing in Lindstrom, while those known to be affiliated with the Nivardomski Otechestvenofrontovska found themselves unwilling participants in the new Constancian military sport of synchronized sea-jumping from 10,000 feet. The others had been returned to their homes, granted medical attention by forces on the ground, and provided Constancian food and water, which was a far cry from they were used to.
Aircraft from the Combat Air Patrol ensured that the Free and Associative Kingdom controlled these skies. An hour later, a helicopter landed at the interim flightline near the beach. Antistrategos (Lieutenant General) Demetrios Thesalonikis, operational commander, was there to meet and salute the Autokrator, along with an honor guard of armed Constancian soldiers from the handpicked battalion that had secured this area. For his part, the Autokrator was pleased to see the gold-and-purple flag fluttering from the highest point of this collection of stones and ruins that fancied itself a human settlement - which it was, a long time ago, when it was part of South Molivadia, of the former Imperial State of Babkha.
The residents had been gathered into what served as an open plaza, amidst heavy security. The Autokrator mounted a wooden dais, flanked by the flags of the Free and Associative Kingdom and the Constancian Armed Forces. A translator was on hand to amplify the Autokrator's words via megaphone.
"Residents of Aqaba! Your deliverance is at hand. His Constancian Majesty, Petros III, has seen your suffering and offers his hand in assistance and protection. Never again will you have to suffer the depredations of the Xecha crime syndicate, nor of the Nivardomski Otechestvenofrontovska insurgents, nor of bandits and brigands. Under the gold and purple flag of the Free and Associative Kingdom of Constancia, you will be free - free from fear, free from hunger, thirst, and want. Your children will be educated, and you will learn honest trades and be free to practice what trades you choose. You will be given every opportunity to prosper and better your lives. You will all have a better future."
It wasn't exactly the best of speeches, but it served its purpose. All adults present were asked to swear the loyal oath to the Basileus, and to sign a written exemplification in the presence of a Constancian army officer. Those who refused were taken aside by an army interpreter, and given a quiet explanation of the facts of life and the reality on the ground. Most relented, but those who did not were quietly gathered together, their hands secured behind their backs with plastic ties, and sent to board a Constancian Air Force helicopter, which delivered them to nearby parts unknown.
Constancian military engineers were already building interim barracks and defensive points at strategic locations, while others began survey of the area. The Autokrator saw all of this and approved, later convening a closed-door command conference with senior officials aboard ship.
He had great plans, and they would all be realized.
The Autokrat of Constancia (the current one, anyway, while the Basileusa and Autokrateia took a break from managing the day-to-day affairs of the Constancian state) stood on the bridge of a Northman-class corvette, examining the video feed from a helicopter flying over Aqaba.
This settlement was a dump, that much was true, and even the most squalid tenements he'd seen in his Alexandrian days were at least a magnitude better: they had electricity, some semblance of running water, and for the lucky ones, even cable television. Intelligence from forces on the ground had confirmed his initial suspicions: the wretches who had the misfortune of settling here were nomadic indigents and itinerant tinkers, and those whose abject poverty led to a persuasion towards petty crimes of theft and murder in order to get by and to keep body and soul together.
Well, no more of that.
The operation had continued as planned. Identified Xecha crime syndicate stragglers were given a free third-class ticket to safe and secure government housing in Lindstrom, while those known to be affiliated with the Nivardomski Otechestvenofrontovska found themselves unwilling participants in the new Constancian military sport of synchronized sea-jumping from 10,000 feet. The others had been returned to their homes, granted medical attention by forces on the ground, and provided Constancian food and water, which was a far cry from they were used to.
Aircraft from the Combat Air Patrol ensured that the Free and Associative Kingdom controlled these skies. An hour later, a helicopter landed at the interim flightline near the beach. Antistrategos (Lieutenant General) Demetrios Thesalonikis, operational commander, was there to meet and salute the Autokrator, along with an honor guard of armed Constancian soldiers from the handpicked battalion that had secured this area. For his part, the Autokrator was pleased to see the gold-and-purple flag fluttering from the highest point of this collection of stones and ruins that fancied itself a human settlement - which it was, a long time ago, when it was part of South Molivadia, of the former Imperial State of Babkha.
The residents had been gathered into what served as an open plaza, amidst heavy security. The Autokrator mounted a wooden dais, flanked by the flags of the Free and Associative Kingdom and the Constancian Armed Forces. A translator was on hand to amplify the Autokrator's words via megaphone.
"Residents of Aqaba! Your deliverance is at hand. His Constancian Majesty, Petros III, has seen your suffering and offers his hand in assistance and protection. Never again will you have to suffer the depredations of the Xecha crime syndicate, nor of the Nivardomski Otechestvenofrontovska insurgents, nor of bandits and brigands. Under the gold and purple flag of the Free and Associative Kingdom of Constancia, you will be free - free from fear, free from hunger, thirst, and want. Your children will be educated, and you will learn honest trades and be free to practice what trades you choose. You will be given every opportunity to prosper and better your lives. You will all have a better future."
It wasn't exactly the best of speeches, but it served its purpose. All adults present were asked to swear the loyal oath to the Basileus, and to sign a written exemplification in the presence of a Constancian army officer. Those who refused were taken aside by an army interpreter, and given a quiet explanation of the facts of life and the reality on the ground. Most relented, but those who did not were quietly gathered together, their hands secured behind their backs with plastic ties, and sent to board a Constancian Air Force helicopter, which delivered them to nearby parts unknown.
Constancian military engineers were already building interim barracks and defensive points at strategic locations, while others began survey of the area. The Autokrator saw all of this and approved, later convening a closed-door command conference with senior officials aboard ship.
He had great plans, and they would all be realized.