Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
- Scott Alexander
- Special Map Cartographer
- Posts: 580
- Joined: Mon Jun 25, 2007 9:12 am
- Contact:
Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
The world jumped out at Raiki in an eerie phosphorescent shade of green. His eyes spend a second adjusting to the night-vision goggles, and then he saw...about what he expected to see. To his right and left, the forty-eight other flycycleers of the Snowfox Lot. Before him, the impressive monolith of Mount Sai'Por jutting out of the Urojea Lakes. Below him, receding slowly but consistently, the ground.
"This is Fox Leader," he said over his radio. "All units acknowledge visual contact."
"We see you, Fox," said a voice Raiki recognized as one of the Elw in the Lot. Raiki pedalled a bit harder, rising above and to the front of the small cloud of flycycles.
"Anyone not have visual contact?" he asked. "Saa. Right then. Follow me."
The night was moonless and cloudy, the nearest city lights two inrhonal away in Nang. Sai'Por on top of the mountain was barely visible. Novatainian Kajar to the west was behind a bank of fog. Everything else was forest, fog, and water. It was a good thing he had a GPS system on his flycycle, or he'd be flying blind.
There had been a time, he knew, when these islands had been above the clouds, suspended a thousand feet high by the kind of technology that was indistinguishable from magic. They'd fallen a long way since then, literally and metaphorically. The rocks were still scarred and fractured with evidence of the literal fall, but the fall on their fortunes was no less prominent. Three colonial flags flew over the islands: the Batavian cross, the complicated saltire and stars of Novatainia, and in the east the crisp blue and white of Interland. This were intermixed with the triple flag of Maraguo, the complex political entity under whose name Batavia governed, and the garish colors of Shireroth, whose economic and military interests in the islands came close to making them de facto rulers of the north and far south.
Despite this profusion of governments, there was precious little to govern. A landscape dotted with small villages, mostly Zindarians still following their traditional lifestyle. The area's de facto capital of Thassala Bone, a sleepy city inhabited mostly by Novatainian bureaucrats. The mild prosperity of south Enhasa, mostly funnelled back to Shirekeep or Koningenwaarde.
And the tourists. These latter came by the thousands, drawn by the archipelago's rich history. On the highest strata, the ruins of Aerlig, once a sporting powerhouse and center of world media. Lower down, the glories of Jasonia, whose cities of Kajar and Thassala were still intact around their modern namesakes, and whose mighty palace crowned Sai'Por mountain.
Older still was Airosamente, the capital of Audentior, which proudly claimed the title of "First City Of The World". Originally built upon Carama Bay, Jasonians had won the last Audente Civil War by activating their last anti-grav generator and raising it as a flying island. During the resurrection of Audentior, the island had been returned to Carama Bay, restoring a continuous coastline and turning it into the capital of the Seventh Republic. During the breakup of the Seventh Republic, the Menelmacari had tried to capture the city by re-activating the flying island. They had only partial success, lifting a big chunk of the city's eastern districts into the air, but leaving the city center in place. The latter eventually came to be known as Apollo City, whereas the former - after an ill-starred colonization attempt - was restored to its previous spot in the Jasonian Archipelago. When the anti-grav generators lost power, it fell into the seabed along with the others. Now immobile, the Kildaris eventually gave up on their campaign to get it back.
Oldest of all was the City of the Sun. No one knew exactly how old, but the carbon dating suggested it was older than human habitation of Micras - an obvious absurdity. It had been on its island since before the Jasonian era, and the vast majority of it was closed to tourists after several visitors went insane trying to solve a weird puzzle involving orbs.
Aside from the industries on Maraguo Island itself, it was the rich tourist trade that supported the archipelago's economy. But with these benefits came problems. Rich foreigners came, abused the culture, and quite often liked it so much they didn't leave. And where there was money, there was conflict. Although the Shireroth-Batavia-Maraguo axis controlled four and a half of the six main islands, it was Novatainia that held Sun City and Jasonia Palace, the two big draws. Despite the nominal alliance between the two powers, there were occasional flareups.
The sort of flareups that occasionally required the talents of a small but plucky Bjorngarder mercenary company.
"This is Fox Leader," said Raiki. "I've sighted the target. Turn on your infrared. If Sai'Por's at noon, there's a hotspot at about eight o'clock. I think those are our guys."
The cloud of flycycles wheeled about in midair, following their leader as he committed to the new course. Forty nine ultralight pedal-powered aircraft carrying forty nine bunker-buster bombs slipped through the moonless Jasonian night.
Summary: See summary at end of next post
"This is Fox Leader," he said over his radio. "All units acknowledge visual contact."
"We see you, Fox," said a voice Raiki recognized as one of the Elw in the Lot. Raiki pedalled a bit harder, rising above and to the front of the small cloud of flycycles.
"Anyone not have visual contact?" he asked. "Saa. Right then. Follow me."
The night was moonless and cloudy, the nearest city lights two inrhonal away in Nang. Sai'Por on top of the mountain was barely visible. Novatainian Kajar to the west was behind a bank of fog. Everything else was forest, fog, and water. It was a good thing he had a GPS system on his flycycle, or he'd be flying blind.
There had been a time, he knew, when these islands had been above the clouds, suspended a thousand feet high by the kind of technology that was indistinguishable from magic. They'd fallen a long way since then, literally and metaphorically. The rocks were still scarred and fractured with evidence of the literal fall, but the fall on their fortunes was no less prominent. Three colonial flags flew over the islands: the Batavian cross, the complicated saltire and stars of Novatainia, and in the east the crisp blue and white of Interland. This were intermixed with the triple flag of Maraguo, the complex political entity under whose name Batavia governed, and the garish colors of Shireroth, whose economic and military interests in the islands came close to making them de facto rulers of the north and far south.
Despite this profusion of governments, there was precious little to govern. A landscape dotted with small villages, mostly Zindarians still following their traditional lifestyle. The area's de facto capital of Thassala Bone, a sleepy city inhabited mostly by Novatainian bureaucrats. The mild prosperity of south Enhasa, mostly funnelled back to Shirekeep or Koningenwaarde.
And the tourists. These latter came by the thousands, drawn by the archipelago's rich history. On the highest strata, the ruins of Aerlig, once a sporting powerhouse and center of world media. Lower down, the glories of Jasonia, whose cities of Kajar and Thassala were still intact around their modern namesakes, and whose mighty palace crowned Sai'Por mountain.
Older still was Airosamente, the capital of Audentior, which proudly claimed the title of "First City Of The World". Originally built upon Carama Bay, Jasonians had won the last Audente Civil War by activating their last anti-grav generator and raising it as a flying island. During the resurrection of Audentior, the island had been returned to Carama Bay, restoring a continuous coastline and turning it into the capital of the Seventh Republic. During the breakup of the Seventh Republic, the Menelmacari had tried to capture the city by re-activating the flying island. They had only partial success, lifting a big chunk of the city's eastern districts into the air, but leaving the city center in place. The latter eventually came to be known as Apollo City, whereas the former - after an ill-starred colonization attempt - was restored to its previous spot in the Jasonian Archipelago. When the anti-grav generators lost power, it fell into the seabed along with the others. Now immobile, the Kildaris eventually gave up on their campaign to get it back.
Oldest of all was the City of the Sun. No one knew exactly how old, but the carbon dating suggested it was older than human habitation of Micras - an obvious absurdity. It had been on its island since before the Jasonian era, and the vast majority of it was closed to tourists after several visitors went insane trying to solve a weird puzzle involving orbs.
Aside from the industries on Maraguo Island itself, it was the rich tourist trade that supported the archipelago's economy. But with these benefits came problems. Rich foreigners came, abused the culture, and quite often liked it so much they didn't leave. And where there was money, there was conflict. Although the Shireroth-Batavia-Maraguo axis controlled four and a half of the six main islands, it was Novatainia that held Sun City and Jasonia Palace, the two big draws. Despite the nominal alliance between the two powers, there were occasional flareups.
The sort of flareups that occasionally required the talents of a small but plucky Bjorngarder mercenary company.
"This is Fox Leader," said Raiki. "I've sighted the target. Turn on your infrared. If Sai'Por's at noon, there's a hotspot at about eight o'clock. I think those are our guys."
The cloud of flycycles wheeled about in midair, following their leader as he committed to the new course. Forty nine ultralight pedal-powered aircraft carrying forty nine bunker-buster bombs slipped through the moonless Jasonian night.
Summary: See summary at end of next post
Last edited by Scott Alexander on Thu Dec 18, 2008 12:56 am, edited 2 times in total.
Scott Alexander | Autokrator of Archipelago (What is Archipelago?)
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
- Scott Alexander
- Special Map Cartographer
- Posts: 580
- Joined: Mon Jun 25, 2007 9:12 am
- Contact:
Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
Konstan Ifrostik adjusted the volume knob on his radio for the third time that night. Fox Leader had a thick Hyperborean accent that was driving him nuts. What had he said? Something about infrared? He switched on his infrared vision just in case. The swarm of flycycles had shifted direction, and now Konstan could see why. There was a source of heat buried somewhere in the caves of Sai'Por Mountain, and Raiki probably assumed it was their mysterious target.
Raiki was quickly getting on his nerves. The Hyperboreans had marched into Bjorngard forty years ago, claiming to be liberators. And in a sense, they were. He just wished they weren't so full of themselves about it. It had been bad enough attending Hyperborean schools his whole life, taking the Hyperborean-built transportation network everywhere he needed to go, and watching the weak insipid Hyperborean niphil-wine gradually replace decent Bjorngarder ale. That was what he'd joined a mercenary company to get away from. And then the best-paying mercenary company'd been led by a Hyperborean. It figured.
The Hyperboreans who chose to live abroad in Bjorngard were different from their more northernly cousins. They had been inspired by the legend of Rhoni Karusion, the Hyperborean warrior-prince who had gone into voluntary exile in the south in protest of his government's almost pathological pacifism. They called themselves the Karuslin, lived their life to a standard of martial perfection, and thought they were rebels. They were terrible at it, though. They had ended up as a cross between a teacher's pet and a motorcycle gangster - slightly ridiculous.
Some of them channeled their energies into Kalirphanam, the great fortress overlooking Hyfrost, where they trained endlessly to defend Shireroth from foreign foes. Others, either unable or unwilling to join the Paladins, got involved in the mercenary business. The Bjorngarders, Elw through and through, weren't bad fighters themselves. Hired muscle became a chief expert of the northern fringes of Benacia, as ragtag bands of Hyperboreans, Elw, Amokolians, Cimmerians, and even the stray Babkhan put aside ethnic differences in pursuit of two worthy goals - blowing things up, and making money doing it. Cedrism, the Shirerithian religion focusing on fire, death, and explosions, had undergone a bit of a revival in the past few years there, and Konstan himself was a devout believer. Adopting the custom from the Hyperboreans, he wore a sigil around his neck - only his was the black star of Shiek, Ninja Goddess of the Night.
Who was, he thought, appropriate for this mission. They were flying from Nang under cover of night, bombing a rebel camp, and returning to Nang with no one any the wiser. The only complications was that no one was at war with anyone else, there was as far as he knew no rebellion, Maraguo and Novatainia were allies, and it seemed likely that someone would be the wiser about something when forty-nine bombs went off in their backyard. He wondered if Mog, God of Political Blunders, might be equally appropriate.
Now granted, there was tension. Some kind of Gold Eagle Society, apparently an outgrowth or a copycat group of the infamous Blue Sun Society, had been distributing pamphlets among the native Zindarians, pushing for the ousting of colonialist oppressors and the restoration of a unified home rule of the Jasonian Archipelago. It was generally believed that Novatainia was supporting the Gold Eagle Society's attempts to destabilize the Maraguan areas, and Maraguo was supporting the Society's attempts to destabilize Novatainian areas. But thus far, it hadn't gone beyond the pamphlet stage. Forty-nine bombs seemed a rather disproportionate response to pamphlets. Which meant either that the Maraguan commanders knew something Konstan didn't, or that the Yardistanis were in charge again over in Shireroth.
"This is Fox Leader. Everyone get in attack formation. I want you to get in, drop your bomb, and get out. We don't think there will be any resistance, but we don't want to stick around if there is."
Raiki was arrogant, heavily accented, and sometimes just plain annoying, but Konstan trusted his judgment on military matters if nothing else. He was the one who'd procured the flycycles from a factory in Hyperborea where, he knew, there was a sort of craze for bizarre and impractical vehicles. They were the obvious part of what separated Snowfox Lot from all the other mercenary groups in Shireroth. The less obvious part was the level of training that Raiki and his second-in-command Tekone had drilled into them. Training which, he hoped, would be absolutely unnecessary tonight.
The target was an area of mountainside which looked more or less normal to casual inspection, but which the infrared goggles showed were dotted with wiring, communications antennae, and the occasional heat sink opening to underground. Was this really Gold Eagle Society territory? They must be much better organized than he thought if they had a proper bunker. Konstan felt a bit of surprise. And surprise on a mission was never good, he thought just before the anti-aircraft fire began.
Before he could even blink, three flycycles were down and another one flapped woundedly as its rider desperately tried to catch a current that would allow it to glide back down the mountainside. Two bombs dropped and detonated, sending an boiling updraft that threw flycycles every which way.
"THIS IS FOX LEADER!" came the heavily accented voice. "RETURN TO BASE! I REPEAT, RETURN TO BASE! DO NOT DROP BOMBS! EVERY MAN FOR HIMS..."
And then the transmission cut off in a heavy burst of static. Flowers of golden light indicated a few more flycycles had dropped their bombs; the sound of screams proved that the defenders' fire was doing its job as well.
Konstan's first indication that he was hit came when the flycycle wouldn't respond properly to his commands. Must have gone through a wing or something. He considered his options. He could commit a spectacular suicide by detonating his bomb, but he was Elw and therefore practical - that was out. There was no way he could make it back to Maraguan territory. That meant either getting as far away as he could and trying to slip back into Maraguo on foot, or else landing immediately and throwing himself on the mercy of whoever was in that bunker.
A second shot hitting his arm limited his options to one. He pulled the ripcord and parachuted down, leaving his flycycle to the angry winds. "I surrender!" he shouted through the pain in his arm, to anyone who was listening. "I surrender! Prisoner of war! I surrender!"
The last of the undamaged flycycles whirred silently back towards Maraguo. He suspected the Maraguans would not be very happy to see them.
Summary: Maraguo and Novatainia have been sparring over control of Jasonian Archipelago. Latest development is a mysterious group called the Gold Eagle Society pushing for autonomy from Maraguo, possibly sponsored by Novatainia. Maraguo has hired a group of mercenaries in ultralight aircraft to bomb a compound in Novatainian territory which they believe is associated with this society. The compound turns out to be better-defended than anyone thinks, and several mercenaries are caught and taken prisoner by Novatainian/Gold Eagle/??? forces. This has the possibility to destabilize Maraguo-Novatainia relations and maybe start a conflict.
Raiki was quickly getting on his nerves. The Hyperboreans had marched into Bjorngard forty years ago, claiming to be liberators. And in a sense, they were. He just wished they weren't so full of themselves about it. It had been bad enough attending Hyperborean schools his whole life, taking the Hyperborean-built transportation network everywhere he needed to go, and watching the weak insipid Hyperborean niphil-wine gradually replace decent Bjorngarder ale. That was what he'd joined a mercenary company to get away from. And then the best-paying mercenary company'd been led by a Hyperborean. It figured.
The Hyperboreans who chose to live abroad in Bjorngard were different from their more northernly cousins. They had been inspired by the legend of Rhoni Karusion, the Hyperborean warrior-prince who had gone into voluntary exile in the south in protest of his government's almost pathological pacifism. They called themselves the Karuslin, lived their life to a standard of martial perfection, and thought they were rebels. They were terrible at it, though. They had ended up as a cross between a teacher's pet and a motorcycle gangster - slightly ridiculous.
Some of them channeled their energies into Kalirphanam, the great fortress overlooking Hyfrost, where they trained endlessly to defend Shireroth from foreign foes. Others, either unable or unwilling to join the Paladins, got involved in the mercenary business. The Bjorngarders, Elw through and through, weren't bad fighters themselves. Hired muscle became a chief expert of the northern fringes of Benacia, as ragtag bands of Hyperboreans, Elw, Amokolians, Cimmerians, and even the stray Babkhan put aside ethnic differences in pursuit of two worthy goals - blowing things up, and making money doing it. Cedrism, the Shirerithian religion focusing on fire, death, and explosions, had undergone a bit of a revival in the past few years there, and Konstan himself was a devout believer. Adopting the custom from the Hyperboreans, he wore a sigil around his neck - only his was the black star of Shiek, Ninja Goddess of the Night.
Who was, he thought, appropriate for this mission. They were flying from Nang under cover of night, bombing a rebel camp, and returning to Nang with no one any the wiser. The only complications was that no one was at war with anyone else, there was as far as he knew no rebellion, Maraguo and Novatainia were allies, and it seemed likely that someone would be the wiser about something when forty-nine bombs went off in their backyard. He wondered if Mog, God of Political Blunders, might be equally appropriate.
Now granted, there was tension. Some kind of Gold Eagle Society, apparently an outgrowth or a copycat group of the infamous Blue Sun Society, had been distributing pamphlets among the native Zindarians, pushing for the ousting of colonialist oppressors and the restoration of a unified home rule of the Jasonian Archipelago. It was generally believed that Novatainia was supporting the Gold Eagle Society's attempts to destabilize the Maraguan areas, and Maraguo was supporting the Society's attempts to destabilize Novatainian areas. But thus far, it hadn't gone beyond the pamphlet stage. Forty-nine bombs seemed a rather disproportionate response to pamphlets. Which meant either that the Maraguan commanders knew something Konstan didn't, or that the Yardistanis were in charge again over in Shireroth.
"This is Fox Leader. Everyone get in attack formation. I want you to get in, drop your bomb, and get out. We don't think there will be any resistance, but we don't want to stick around if there is."
Raiki was arrogant, heavily accented, and sometimes just plain annoying, but Konstan trusted his judgment on military matters if nothing else. He was the one who'd procured the flycycles from a factory in Hyperborea where, he knew, there was a sort of craze for bizarre and impractical vehicles. They were the obvious part of what separated Snowfox Lot from all the other mercenary groups in Shireroth. The less obvious part was the level of training that Raiki and his second-in-command Tekone had drilled into them. Training which, he hoped, would be absolutely unnecessary tonight.
The target was an area of mountainside which looked more or less normal to casual inspection, but which the infrared goggles showed were dotted with wiring, communications antennae, and the occasional heat sink opening to underground. Was this really Gold Eagle Society territory? They must be much better organized than he thought if they had a proper bunker. Konstan felt a bit of surprise. And surprise on a mission was never good, he thought just before the anti-aircraft fire began.
Before he could even blink, three flycycles were down and another one flapped woundedly as its rider desperately tried to catch a current that would allow it to glide back down the mountainside. Two bombs dropped and detonated, sending an boiling updraft that threw flycycles every which way.
"THIS IS FOX LEADER!" came the heavily accented voice. "RETURN TO BASE! I REPEAT, RETURN TO BASE! DO NOT DROP BOMBS! EVERY MAN FOR HIMS..."
And then the transmission cut off in a heavy burst of static. Flowers of golden light indicated a few more flycycles had dropped their bombs; the sound of screams proved that the defenders' fire was doing its job as well.
Konstan's first indication that he was hit came when the flycycle wouldn't respond properly to his commands. Must have gone through a wing or something. He considered his options. He could commit a spectacular suicide by detonating his bomb, but he was Elw and therefore practical - that was out. There was no way he could make it back to Maraguan territory. That meant either getting as far away as he could and trying to slip back into Maraguo on foot, or else landing immediately and throwing himself on the mercy of whoever was in that bunker.
A second shot hitting his arm limited his options to one. He pulled the ripcord and parachuted down, leaving his flycycle to the angry winds. "I surrender!" he shouted through the pain in his arm, to anyone who was listening. "I surrender! Prisoner of war! I surrender!"
The last of the undamaged flycycles whirred silently back towards Maraguo. He suspected the Maraguans would not be very happy to see them.
Summary: Maraguo and Novatainia have been sparring over control of Jasonian Archipelago. Latest development is a mysterious group called the Gold Eagle Society pushing for autonomy from Maraguo, possibly sponsored by Novatainia. Maraguo has hired a group of mercenaries in ultralight aircraft to bomb a compound in Novatainian territory which they believe is associated with this society. The compound turns out to be better-defended than anyone thinks, and several mercenaries are caught and taken prisoner by Novatainian/Gold Eagle/??? forces. This has the possibility to destabilize Maraguo-Novatainia relations and maybe start a conflict.
Scott Alexander | Autokrator of Archipelago (What is Archipelago?)
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
-
- Posts: 5024
- Joined: Sun Jun 24, 2007 8:34 pm
- Location: Novatainia
- Contact:
Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
John Curclor was feeling slightly overwhelmed. He was the nominal governor of Novatainian-controlled Jasonia, and really beginning to think he wasn't cut out for the job. He'd started life as an archaeologist, for Sakat's sake! He'd just ended up governor because he had been chief of staff of the Glanurchy Archaeology Centre (under the Director, of course), he was good with paperwork, and the island was little more than a huge archaeological site.
Or at least, it was meant to be. Half the cities were little more than glorified camps, and the other half were left in varying states of repair after the collapse of the Zindarian government. Mostly, John just got on with overseeing major directions of archaeology (the digs from Nova Kajar, for example, had discovered the ruins of the temple district, and were carefully determining which religions were present in old Jasonia). Unless there was trouble ...
About a month ago, they'd discovered a map, miraculously preserved, which suggested the location of the lost Jasonian Museum, an otherwise entirely legendary building they'd long ago dispaired of finding. As was his duty, John had contacted the Director, who was also the King, and a host of other things (now there was a man who was too busy, if anyone, John thought), and to his surprise, the King had commandeered the expedition with some of his magical staff. Then some strange prophecy had been found ... and last John had heard, the King and co. had visited Ptia, of all places. John was surprised anyone thought the city of Ptia even existed anymore, but rumour had it the King had visited it. And now the King was rather busy doing Sakat knows what in his strange Academy and John still didn't have permission to seek the lost museum. Apparently, it was on the King's 'to-do list' - probably along with writing the full history of the Second Age, putting the government's of the world under his control, exponentially growing the Shirithian, Novatainain and Tokish economies, and finding a girlfriend. And the King was already sick of John asking about it.
And now this. John had in his hand a report that unidentified mercenaries, possibly from Maraguo, had made an uprovoked attack on the side of Mount Sai'Por and almost damaged anarchaeological site (the crash site of a Jasonian craft back in the middle Jasonian era). John didn't know what was worse - the possible damage to such an important site, or having to tell the King about it. But he didn't have a choice. The King had to know.
---------
Andreas was busy. He was overseeing the rebuilding of MANA's defences, after the change to NCM. And he was holding in his hand the strangest of all possible reports. He was just about to reread it when his secretary entered, bearing the phone. "It's John Curclor," the secretary said, handing the phone to Andreas. Andreas took the phone, and before John could say anything, said, "It's about the attack, isn't it?"
"How .... how did you know about that?" came John's voice, clearly surprised.
"I'm the King, John," Andreas replied, exasperated. "It's my job to know everything."
"Of course," John said. "And since you know about it, what would you, err, like me to do about it?"
"I'm sending a contingent of the Novatainian Defence Force over," Andreas said. "They'll be based in Nova Kajar. If you could make sure there's room for them, that'd be wonderful. We've rather neglected the island having their own defence force."
"Defence Force?" John spluttered. "We're meant to be an archaeological dig, not a war zone!"
"I know that John," Andreas said, "and I'm sorry you've ended up in this situation. Your Jasonian posting was never meant to be anything more than coordinating archaeology. But we've just had an unprovoked attack on our lands, and by nine am when the INS, MNS and NNN reporters begin knocking on my door, I need to be able to say that Novatainia is entirely committed to the defence of our citizens. I'm hoping it won't come to any more fighting, but we need to have people there in case it does. Don't worry, you won't be expected to head the defence or anything. I'm bringing Mel'Kat over too."
A barely concealed sigh of relief could be heard over the phone. Andreas knew that John got on with Mel'Kat well - despite being an Admiral, Mel'Kat was a historian at heart, from an entire race of historians, and John had met him during the Ocean Palace incident several months ago. If there was any military commander John would feel relaxed under, it was Mel'Kat.
"Thankyou," John said, regaining his composure. "Do I need to tell anyone anything?"
"You can tell the citizens a full NISB investigation is underway, that I'm totally committed to their defence and ensuring no more attacks, and you can tell Mel'Kat that he's in charge, when he arrives. You'll be relieved to know that the Dark Watchers are not involved in this particular incident. Oh, and if the Maraguoan's ring, tell them MOFAT's handling negotiations, not you."
"The Maraguoan's might ring?" John said, nervous again.
"Well, I am about to make some forceful requests to ensure our citizens safety. I thought you'd prefer not to have to make them yourself."
"Thankyou," John said, sounding relieved again. "Well ... good luck, your majesty," he finished.
"Oh, we won't need good luck," Andreas said cryptically. "Just good history." Then he hung up.
Andreas turned to the NISB agent who had delivered him the report, and was still standing in the room, waiting for Andreas' response. "How many prisoners did you say?" Andreas asked, after his secretary had left.
"Two," the agent replied. "One surrendered, and the other was found unconcious but alive. The rest of the pilots appear to have perished or escaped."
"They are to be treated with the full decency accorded prisoners of war, of course," Andreas said. Andreas' treatment of prisoners was legendary. He occasionally heard reports that Nova English prisoners of his in the War That Wasn't sang his praise in interviews about their stay. Andreas was very honourable, in that regard.
"Any further orders?" the agent asked.
"Continue to investigate the attack. Interrogate the prisoners - nicely, mind you - to try and determine the reason. And pray that we don't have to involve the Dark Watchers."
"Of course, sir," said the agent, and departed.
Left alone, Andreas turned to his computer. "Now just to do some diplomacy ...."
--------
"Vryheer, you won't like this," said an aide, handing Vryheer Jonas the communique.
"King, you mean," the aide said. "He's communicating in his Novatainian capacity ... as King ..."
"Whatever," Jonas replied.
Andreas hears of the attacks. A full NISB investigation is ordered, including interrogation of the two survivors of the attack (who will be treated with the care deserved by prisoners of wars, for which Andreas is legendary). In the meantime, some of the Novatainian Defence Force are sent over to protect from further attacks. Andreas also makes a few simple demands of the Maraguons to ensure the defence of his citizens
Or at least, it was meant to be. Half the cities were little more than glorified camps, and the other half were left in varying states of repair after the collapse of the Zindarian government. Mostly, John just got on with overseeing major directions of archaeology (the digs from Nova Kajar, for example, had discovered the ruins of the temple district, and were carefully determining which religions were present in old Jasonia). Unless there was trouble ...
About a month ago, they'd discovered a map, miraculously preserved, which suggested the location of the lost Jasonian Museum, an otherwise entirely legendary building they'd long ago dispaired of finding. As was his duty, John had contacted the Director, who was also the King, and a host of other things (now there was a man who was too busy, if anyone, John thought), and to his surprise, the King had commandeered the expedition with some of his magical staff. Then some strange prophecy had been found ... and last John had heard, the King and co. had visited Ptia, of all places. John was surprised anyone thought the city of Ptia even existed anymore, but rumour had it the King had visited it. And now the King was rather busy doing Sakat knows what in his strange Academy and John still didn't have permission to seek the lost museum. Apparently, it was on the King's 'to-do list' - probably along with writing the full history of the Second Age, putting the government's of the world under his control, exponentially growing the Shirithian, Novatainain and Tokish economies, and finding a girlfriend. And the King was already sick of John asking about it.
And now this. John had in his hand a report that unidentified mercenaries, possibly from Maraguo, had made an uprovoked attack on the side of Mount Sai'Por and almost damaged anarchaeological site (the crash site of a Jasonian craft back in the middle Jasonian era). John didn't know what was worse - the possible damage to such an important site, or having to tell the King about it. But he didn't have a choice. The King had to know.
---------
Andreas was busy. He was overseeing the rebuilding of MANA's defences, after the change to NCM. And he was holding in his hand the strangest of all possible reports. He was just about to reread it when his secretary entered, bearing the phone. "It's John Curclor," the secretary said, handing the phone to Andreas. Andreas took the phone, and before John could say anything, said, "It's about the attack, isn't it?"
"How .... how did you know about that?" came John's voice, clearly surprised.
"I'm the King, John," Andreas replied, exasperated. "It's my job to know everything."
"Of course," John said. "And since you know about it, what would you, err, like me to do about it?"
"I'm sending a contingent of the Novatainian Defence Force over," Andreas said. "They'll be based in Nova Kajar. If you could make sure there's room for them, that'd be wonderful. We've rather neglected the island having their own defence force."
"Defence Force?" John spluttered. "We're meant to be an archaeological dig, not a war zone!"
"I know that John," Andreas said, "and I'm sorry you've ended up in this situation. Your Jasonian posting was never meant to be anything more than coordinating archaeology. But we've just had an unprovoked attack on our lands, and by nine am when the INS, MNS and NNN reporters begin knocking on my door, I need to be able to say that Novatainia is entirely committed to the defence of our citizens. I'm hoping it won't come to any more fighting, but we need to have people there in case it does. Don't worry, you won't be expected to head the defence or anything. I'm bringing Mel'Kat over too."
A barely concealed sigh of relief could be heard over the phone. Andreas knew that John got on with Mel'Kat well - despite being an Admiral, Mel'Kat was a historian at heart, from an entire race of historians, and John had met him during the Ocean Palace incident several months ago. If there was any military commander John would feel relaxed under, it was Mel'Kat.
"Thankyou," John said, regaining his composure. "Do I need to tell anyone anything?"
"You can tell the citizens a full NISB investigation is underway, that I'm totally committed to their defence and ensuring no more attacks, and you can tell Mel'Kat that he's in charge, when he arrives. You'll be relieved to know that the Dark Watchers are not involved in this particular incident. Oh, and if the Maraguoan's ring, tell them MOFAT's handling negotiations, not you."
"The Maraguoan's might ring?" John said, nervous again.
"Well, I am about to make some forceful requests to ensure our citizens safety. I thought you'd prefer not to have to make them yourself."
"Thankyou," John said, sounding relieved again. "Well ... good luck, your majesty," he finished.
"Oh, we won't need good luck," Andreas said cryptically. "Just good history." Then he hung up.
Andreas turned to the NISB agent who had delivered him the report, and was still standing in the room, waiting for Andreas' response. "How many prisoners did you say?" Andreas asked, after his secretary had left.
"Two," the agent replied. "One surrendered, and the other was found unconcious but alive. The rest of the pilots appear to have perished or escaped."
"They are to be treated with the full decency accorded prisoners of war, of course," Andreas said. Andreas' treatment of prisoners was legendary. He occasionally heard reports that Nova English prisoners of his in the War That Wasn't sang his praise in interviews about their stay. Andreas was very honourable, in that regard.
"Any further orders?" the agent asked.
"Continue to investigate the attack. Interrogate the prisoners - nicely, mind you - to try and determine the reason. And pray that we don't have to involve the Dark Watchers."
"Of course, sir," said the agent, and departed.
Left alone, Andreas turned to his computer. "Now just to do some diplomacy ...."
--------
"Vryheer, you won't like this," said an aide, handing Vryheer Jonas the communique.
"Damn that Baron," Jonas said, after he read it.Vryheer Jonas,
I expected a modicum of decency from other members of the Floating Island Pact, a decency I should think extends to not making unprovoked attacks on our lands. Previously we had relied on the able Maraguoan Navy to defend our populace, but since I feel them unable to defend us from themselves, I have taken matters of Novatainian defence into my own hands. I also have two survivors from the attack as prisoners. They will be treated well, but will only be released upon your agreeing to my requests. I'm sure I need not say that I make these requests merely to ensure the safety of my citizens, the sanctity of my digs, and the integrity of the Floating Island Pact. They are nothing onerous. I merely request:
A full explanation and apology for your attack, cosigned by the other Vryheers;
The complete standing down of all military units belonging to Maraguo within a hundred kilometres of the Floating Isles, for the period of one month;
No further attacks;
50 000 CP in reparations, for repair of the site damaged by the attack, and for upkeep of the Novatainian Defence Force for the next month.
Upon meeting my requests, your prisoners will be returned, no further action will be taken regarding this matter, you will enjoy the defence of the Novatainian Defence Force for a month, and we can return to our otherwise happy diplomatic relations.
Yours sincerely,
King Andreas the Overtitled.
"King, you mean," the aide said. "He's communicating in his Novatainian capacity ... as King ..."
"Whatever," Jonas replied.
Andreas hears of the attacks. A full NISB investigation is ordered, including interrogation of the two survivors of the attack (who will be treated with the care deserved by prisoners of wars, for which Andreas is legendary). In the meantime, some of the Novatainian Defence Force are sent over to protect from further attacks. Andreas also makes a few simple demands of the Maraguons to ensure the defence of his citizens
Andreas
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
- Guido Zambelis
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
please provide a cast-iron assurance that magic will play no part in this...
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
If you read my post carefully, I already have (to the best of Novatainia's knowledge thus far). But I'm more interested in Jonas responding.
Andreas
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
I will write tomorrow, promised. My tomorrow (Belgian, not USA, not Australia, not...).
Honoured Servant of the Jingdaoese Heavenly Light and the Kaiseress of Shireroth
- dr-spangle
- Technical Advisor
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
In terms of fireball throwing and teleporting, I don't plan any at all. But, quoting Arthur C. Clark, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." You had better believe that there will be some of that variety.
- dr-spangle
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
I resent that comment. I've never used magic in a legal international war. Novatainia has gone to great length to hide magic from those of you who are unable to handle it.
Andreas
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
- Scott Alexander
- Special Map Cartographer
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
"The good news," Matthew Armand told Konstan, "is that King Andreas is known far and wide for his just and honorable treatment of prisoners."
Konstan looked at him warily.
"The bad news," said Matthew, "is that this command isn't under King Andreas." Then he slapped Konstan, really hard.
"Mrrgh!" grunted Konstan.
"That's right," said Matt. "I want to know everything. Who sent you, why, how they found out about this place, how much you know."
"Hey," said Anna, who was walking by. "The Glorious Enlightened Leader wouldn't approve."
"Yeah," said Matt, "but as I just finished telling this thug, neither King Andreas nor the Glorious Enlightened Leader are here. Andreas is an ocean away, and...our mutual friend is off on some crazy quest. Or something. And these people found this base somehow. I'm in charge for the present, and I say it's more important to find out what he knows. Mithaniel knows we have few enough opportunities. We had to hand over the other two prisoners to the Novatainian authorities."
Konstan's ears perked up. These weren't Novatainian authorities? Then what kind of authorities were they?
"Look, you could have just asked," said Konstan. "I'm from the Greyfox Lot, based in Bjorngard. We were hired by Maraguo to keep the peace here. They said some kind of weird terrorist cell was based in the mountains and we were supposed to bomb them. That's about all I know."
"I don't believe you," said Matt, glaring at him.
"Why should I lie? Maraguo pays me money, I shoot stuff. It's all I've ever done. This is out of my league. I just want to go home. Who the PRH are you people anyway? This is supposed to be an archaeological dig."
"I'm asking the questions here," said Matt, though he sounded like he was quoting a line he'd heard in a movie somewhere. "Anyway, maybe some of us don't like having our home turned into the world's largest open-air museum. Ever thought of that?"
"No," said Konstan, honestly. He hadn't spared much thought for the islands at all, actually. Only been there a week, just enough time to train for the mission. Mercenaries rarely got too interested in the places they were shooting up. Emotional attachment was a bit of a career hazard.
"Well, we don't. Right now, Novatainia thinks they can use us as a militia to enforce their control over Nelaga. But the Glorious Enlightened Leader has other..."
"Shut up, Matt," said Anna. "You've given this guy twice as much as he's told you. You're the worst interrogator ever."
Wheels spun in Konstan's head. Okay, so this was some local militia organization that the Novatainian government thought it could work with and control. And now they were getting out of hand and becoming a problem for Maraguo. And in a little while, they might become a problem for Novatainia too. That was interesting. Pretty big bunker for a militia group, though. Something odd must be going on.
"Yeah, well, hopefully the Governor down in Thassala Bone will have gotten something out of the big Hyperborean prisoner we sent them."
Big Hyperborean. That would be Raiki! A surge of conflicting emotions welled up in Konstan. So there was one other captive. At least he wasn't alone. Then again, if Raiki was stuck in the regional capital, there was precious little chance his old unit was in fighting condition.
"Yeah, well then, what are we going to do with this guy?"
"I dunno. See if you can call up the Glorious Enlightened Leader. If not, we'll hand him over to King Andreas. Or feed him to the MagiGARP. Your choice."
Anna snorted. "We try to build an new enlightened civilization from the ground up, and already you're talking about making fish food of our enemies. It's enough to break a girl's idealistic spirit."
Summary: Konstan is prisoner in the bunker. During the interrogation, he learns he is with some local militia currently cooperating with Novatainia but potentially changing course when a certain "Glorious Enlightened Leader" weighs in. It seems Raiki is a prisoner of King Andreas elsewhere.
Jonas, waiting on you.
Guido, mind your own business .
Konstan looked at him warily.
"The bad news," said Matthew, "is that this command isn't under King Andreas." Then he slapped Konstan, really hard.
"Mrrgh!" grunted Konstan.
"That's right," said Matt. "I want to know everything. Who sent you, why, how they found out about this place, how much you know."
"Hey," said Anna, who was walking by. "The Glorious Enlightened Leader wouldn't approve."
"Yeah," said Matt, "but as I just finished telling this thug, neither King Andreas nor the Glorious Enlightened Leader are here. Andreas is an ocean away, and...our mutual friend is off on some crazy quest. Or something. And these people found this base somehow. I'm in charge for the present, and I say it's more important to find out what he knows. Mithaniel knows we have few enough opportunities. We had to hand over the other two prisoners to the Novatainian authorities."
Konstan's ears perked up. These weren't Novatainian authorities? Then what kind of authorities were they?
"Look, you could have just asked," said Konstan. "I'm from the Greyfox Lot, based in Bjorngard. We were hired by Maraguo to keep the peace here. They said some kind of weird terrorist cell was based in the mountains and we were supposed to bomb them. That's about all I know."
"I don't believe you," said Matt, glaring at him.
"Why should I lie? Maraguo pays me money, I shoot stuff. It's all I've ever done. This is out of my league. I just want to go home. Who the PRH are you people anyway? This is supposed to be an archaeological dig."
"I'm asking the questions here," said Matt, though he sounded like he was quoting a line he'd heard in a movie somewhere. "Anyway, maybe some of us don't like having our home turned into the world's largest open-air museum. Ever thought of that?"
"No," said Konstan, honestly. He hadn't spared much thought for the islands at all, actually. Only been there a week, just enough time to train for the mission. Mercenaries rarely got too interested in the places they were shooting up. Emotional attachment was a bit of a career hazard.
"Well, we don't. Right now, Novatainia thinks they can use us as a militia to enforce their control over Nelaga. But the Glorious Enlightened Leader has other..."
"Shut up, Matt," said Anna. "You've given this guy twice as much as he's told you. You're the worst interrogator ever."
Wheels spun in Konstan's head. Okay, so this was some local militia organization that the Novatainian government thought it could work with and control. And now they were getting out of hand and becoming a problem for Maraguo. And in a little while, they might become a problem for Novatainia too. That was interesting. Pretty big bunker for a militia group, though. Something odd must be going on.
"Yeah, well, hopefully the Governor down in Thassala Bone will have gotten something out of the big Hyperborean prisoner we sent them."
Big Hyperborean. That would be Raiki! A surge of conflicting emotions welled up in Konstan. So there was one other captive. At least he wasn't alone. Then again, if Raiki was stuck in the regional capital, there was precious little chance his old unit was in fighting condition.
"Yeah, well then, what are we going to do with this guy?"
"I dunno. See if you can call up the Glorious Enlightened Leader. If not, we'll hand him over to King Andreas. Or feed him to the MagiGARP. Your choice."
Anna snorted. "We try to build an new enlightened civilization from the ground up, and already you're talking about making fish food of our enemies. It's enough to break a girl's idealistic spirit."
Summary: Konstan is prisoner in the bunker. During the interrogation, he learns he is with some local militia currently cooperating with Novatainia but potentially changing course when a certain "Glorious Enlightened Leader" weighs in. It seems Raiki is a prisoner of King Andreas elsewhere.
Jonas, waiting on you.
Guido, mind your own business .
Scott Alexander | Autokrator of Archipelago (What is Archipelago?)
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
"Damn that Baron," Jonas said, after he read the letter.
"King, you mean," the aide said. "He's communicating in his Novatainian capacity ... as King ..."
"Whatever," Jonas replied, “Call the generals!â€
ENHASA RESIDENTIE, 18 DECEMBER 2008.
A meeting between the Maraguan generals, the Vryheer and Senechal was arranged in the Enhasa Residentie (Enhasa Residence).
A general stepped forward and began to speak to his collegues: “Friends, we are in a tricky situation...â€
The generals mumbled and Jonas, who was sitting, came to stand next to the general.
“Like general Victor just told you: the situation is quite serious. In fact, we have two problems.â€
“Two problems?†asked a commander of the Civil Guard, “I thought we just had a problem with those mercaneries.â€
“I need to disappoint you. It’s worse then that.â€
The staff looked up with surprised faces to Jonas.
“I want to announce they will pay for what they did! We can’t tolerate this anymore!â€
There was only a short reply from general Victor: “Huh?â€
“Those Novatainian idiots are still thinking I’m the Vryheer! Like you all know very well, I am just replacing His Lokiness as Senechal!â€
A very militarist, a bit strange, commander took the word and responded to the Senechal: “Indeed, this behaviour can’t be tolerated! I propose we bomb their islands, enslave the citizens and conquer Micras with weapons of mass destruction! Muhaha!
“Err,†Jonas considered what he would say, “But I think it’s time to enjoy some rest. The Enhasa Resort is still open and I think some of usâ€, while pointing in the direction of the strange commander, “need it.â€
ENHASA RESORT, 19 december 2008.
Jonas was busy swimming a fifth round in the swimming pool of the famous Enhasa Resort Hotel while general Victor entered the room and drawed his attention.
“Sir, maybe we can arange a new meeting of the Staff?†asked the general while Jonas came out of the water, “We still have this, err, minor problem.â€
“No, Victor. I can’t trust those generals anymore. You are, in fact, the only military leader who doesn’t get payed to much without losing connection with reality.â€
A rude swimmer interrupted the conversation. “If Maraguo wouldn’t have a general for each 100 man, maybe we could afford us a decent army.â€
Jonas became furious but was intelligent enough to see the truth of this comment and adressed himself to the general again.
“I have asked the Kingdom of Batavia and the Imperial Republic of Shireroth for help. If this conflict is the beginning of a war, I want to be prepared.â€
“But, My Lord...†said Victor.
“I hope we solve this without a fight. But the mercaneries will almost certainly talk. And you know what that means...â€
“Errr. War, my lord?â€
“Oh, I meant... that we... would be forced... to give in to their demands, what’s almost impossible. There are a lot of Vryholders who don’t agree with my pacifist diplomacy.â€
For some unknown reason Victor began to smile when Jonas said the last words. The sENECHAL looked to the water in the pool and thought about how old he had become. Where were the times that everyone supported him in his moves? They were gone, just like the years passed by. but Jonas enjoyed still some favour and hopefully he could persuade the Novatainians to cancel their stupid demands.
“Arange a meeting of the Vryholders in the Groote Schuur, Victor,†demanded the replacing Vryheer.
Summary: a meeting will be prepared between the Vryholders. It's quite sure Maraguo will not accept the demands of Novatainia.
"King, you mean," the aide said. "He's communicating in his Novatainian capacity ... as King ..."
"Whatever," Jonas replied, “Call the generals!â€
ENHASA RESIDENTIE, 18 DECEMBER 2008.
A meeting between the Maraguan generals, the Vryheer and Senechal was arranged in the Enhasa Residentie (Enhasa Residence).
A general stepped forward and began to speak to his collegues: “Friends, we are in a tricky situation...â€
The generals mumbled and Jonas, who was sitting, came to stand next to the general.
“Like general Victor just told you: the situation is quite serious. In fact, we have two problems.â€
“Two problems?†asked a commander of the Civil Guard, “I thought we just had a problem with those mercaneries.â€
“I need to disappoint you. It’s worse then that.â€
The staff looked up with surprised faces to Jonas.
“I want to announce they will pay for what they did! We can’t tolerate this anymore!â€
There was only a short reply from general Victor: “Huh?â€
“Those Novatainian idiots are still thinking I’m the Vryheer! Like you all know very well, I am just replacing His Lokiness as Senechal!â€
A very militarist, a bit strange, commander took the word and responded to the Senechal: “Indeed, this behaviour can’t be tolerated! I propose we bomb their islands, enslave the citizens and conquer Micras with weapons of mass destruction! Muhaha!
“Err,†Jonas considered what he would say, “But I think it’s time to enjoy some rest. The Enhasa Resort is still open and I think some of usâ€, while pointing in the direction of the strange commander, “need it.â€
ENHASA RESORT, 19 december 2008.
Jonas was busy swimming a fifth round in the swimming pool of the famous Enhasa Resort Hotel while general Victor entered the room and drawed his attention.
“Sir, maybe we can arange a new meeting of the Staff?†asked the general while Jonas came out of the water, “We still have this, err, minor problem.â€
“No, Victor. I can’t trust those generals anymore. You are, in fact, the only military leader who doesn’t get payed to much without losing connection with reality.â€
A rude swimmer interrupted the conversation. “If Maraguo wouldn’t have a general for each 100 man, maybe we could afford us a decent army.â€
Jonas became furious but was intelligent enough to see the truth of this comment and adressed himself to the general again.
“I have asked the Kingdom of Batavia and the Imperial Republic of Shireroth for help. If this conflict is the beginning of a war, I want to be prepared.â€
“But, My Lord...†said Victor.
“I hope we solve this without a fight. But the mercaneries will almost certainly talk. And you know what that means...â€
“Errr. War, my lord?â€
“Oh, I meant... that we... would be forced... to give in to their demands, what’s almost impossible. There are a lot of Vryholders who don’t agree with my pacifist diplomacy.â€
For some unknown reason Victor began to smile when Jonas said the last words. The sENECHAL looked to the water in the pool and thought about how old he had become. Where were the times that everyone supported him in his moves? They were gone, just like the years passed by. but Jonas enjoyed still some favour and hopefully he could persuade the Novatainians to cancel their stupid demands.
“Arange a meeting of the Vryholders in the Groote Schuur, Victor,†demanded the replacing Vryheer.
Summary: a meeting will be prepared between the Vryholders. It's quite sure Maraguo will not accept the demands of Novatainia.
Honoured Servant of the Jingdaoese Heavenly Light and the Kaiseress of Shireroth
- Guido Zambelis
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
“What?! When?†Harvey exclaimed at the flurry of news assaulting him from this cell phone. Areuhat turned sharply towards him. Harvey’s face was a mask of alarm, but it gradually hardened as the story continued.
“Mmm hmm,†Harvey said. “Yeah. Hmmm. No. No, don’t do that. Keep him there. No, that doesn’t matter. I know. I know! Look, I- … I just said I know. No, forget about that. Listen, this is …. what? No, you can deal with that later. You- no, stop, calm down. Listen! I’m telling you this is all right. … I know what we planned. … I know what we- … Yes, I’m still going ahead with that. I- … well, then you’d better talk with them as soon... today would be best actually. It would be better to have them on our side as soon as possible.... no, that's fine. I’ll leave the phone on, but try not to call for a couple hours. … yes, and to you too. Oh, and Anna? Tell Matt to stop slapping people. Gives the wrong impression. Take care.â€
Harvey put away the phone, his eyes still distant from the conversation, deep in apparent thought as he and his companion walked down the nearly empty streets of Apolytown.
Finally, Areuhat had to ask the question. “Is there a problem?â€
“Apparently Maraguo tried to bomb one of our bunkers last night. Our anti-air cut most of them down, but a few bombs landed and things are kind of a mess. But the bigger problem is that both the Novatainians and Maraguo are aware of the situation and it’s likely going to be a very public mess.â€
Areuhat said, “I thought it was our job to start the public mess.â€
“It was,†Harvey said simply.
“So… ? It sounded like you said we’re not aborting this plan here, but if the trouble has already started, won’t that be a problem? We were supposed to set things up all quiet-like.â€
Harvey shook his head. “No. That was my first worry too, but actually, the reality is quite the reverse. The conflict is between Novatainia and Maraguo at the moment. Maybe some of their allies will get involved depending on which way the political winds blow, but it barely matters. Nobody knows that we’re the important players here, and that everyone else is just setting the stage. Actually, this is exactly the sort of thing we need right now – all eyes will be squinting at their enemies in the upcoming war and not rested uncomfortably upon the Golden Eagle society.â€
Arehuat said, “For the moment. There’s no way what we’re planning to do here won’t go unnoticed.â€
“No, it won’t,†Harvey agreed. “But, if nothing else, having a war brewing will divide some of their attention away from us. Actually, this is almost perfect. We should have planned it this way from the start.â€
The conversation lapsed into silence. It was better that way anyway; it was almost showtime. They were approaching the gates of the Apollo Foundation compound north of Apolytown. Far smaller than the other Foundation bases scattered across the microworld, this one had only been established because it was the final resting place of the ancient derelict superweaon gravship of Jasonia, and only here because, even after a few thousand years, nobody could figure out how to get the thing flying again.
Harvey smiled inwardly to himself at that one. Final resting place, indeed. Final resting place for over 2700 years. Final resting place of the most titanic and awe-inspiring superweapon Micras had ever seen. Final resting place, until today.
Summary: Harvey has been contacted by the militants and advised them to get certain allies on their side publically as soon as possible. He and Areuhat, his mysterious female companion, are in Apolytown city, which is also the location of an Apollo Foundation research base that is studying an ancient FIoJ weapon.
“Mmm hmm,†Harvey said. “Yeah. Hmmm. No. No, don’t do that. Keep him there. No, that doesn’t matter. I know. I know! Look, I- … I just said I know. No, forget about that. Listen, this is …. what? No, you can deal with that later. You- no, stop, calm down. Listen! I’m telling you this is all right. … I know what we planned. … I know what we- … Yes, I’m still going ahead with that. I- … well, then you’d better talk with them as soon... today would be best actually. It would be better to have them on our side as soon as possible.... no, that's fine. I’ll leave the phone on, but try not to call for a couple hours. … yes, and to you too. Oh, and Anna? Tell Matt to stop slapping people. Gives the wrong impression. Take care.â€
Harvey put away the phone, his eyes still distant from the conversation, deep in apparent thought as he and his companion walked down the nearly empty streets of Apolytown.
Finally, Areuhat had to ask the question. “Is there a problem?â€
“Apparently Maraguo tried to bomb one of our bunkers last night. Our anti-air cut most of them down, but a few bombs landed and things are kind of a mess. But the bigger problem is that both the Novatainians and Maraguo are aware of the situation and it’s likely going to be a very public mess.â€
Areuhat said, “I thought it was our job to start the public mess.â€
“It was,†Harvey said simply.
“So… ? It sounded like you said we’re not aborting this plan here, but if the trouble has already started, won’t that be a problem? We were supposed to set things up all quiet-like.â€
Harvey shook his head. “No. That was my first worry too, but actually, the reality is quite the reverse. The conflict is between Novatainia and Maraguo at the moment. Maybe some of their allies will get involved depending on which way the political winds blow, but it barely matters. Nobody knows that we’re the important players here, and that everyone else is just setting the stage. Actually, this is exactly the sort of thing we need right now – all eyes will be squinting at their enemies in the upcoming war and not rested uncomfortably upon the Golden Eagle society.â€
Arehuat said, “For the moment. There’s no way what we’re planning to do here won’t go unnoticed.â€
“No, it won’t,†Harvey agreed. “But, if nothing else, having a war brewing will divide some of their attention away from us. Actually, this is almost perfect. We should have planned it this way from the start.â€
The conversation lapsed into silence. It was better that way anyway; it was almost showtime. They were approaching the gates of the Apollo Foundation compound north of Apolytown. Far smaller than the other Foundation bases scattered across the microworld, this one had only been established because it was the final resting place of the ancient derelict superweaon gravship of Jasonia, and only here because, even after a few thousand years, nobody could figure out how to get the thing flying again.
Harvey smiled inwardly to himself at that one. Final resting place, indeed. Final resting place for over 2700 years. Final resting place of the most titanic and awe-inspiring superweapon Micras had ever seen. Final resting place, until today.
Summary: Harvey has been contacted by the militants and advised them to get certain allies on their side publically as soon as possible. He and Areuhat, his mysterious female companion, are in Apolytown city, which is also the location of an Apollo Foundation research base that is studying an ancient FIoJ weapon.
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Re: Day of the Eagle (Part 1)
Things were moving faster than Andreas had expected. There had been no official communique from the Maraguoans yet, but NISB agents reported a clear building up of Maraguoan forces, in direct violation of the simple Novatainian requests. They'd also managed to intercept messages to both Shireroth and Batavie calling for aid. The Maraguoans didn't want peace, it seemed. The Maraguoans wanted a war. It seemed - purely in defence of his citizens, of course - Andreas would have to comply.
Andreas began drafting his own communique. This one, the Maraguoans would not be able to intercept. This one, Andreas send a messenger to deliver personally. That was the fun of having neighbours.
Summary: NISB agents intercept the Maraguoan call for help to Batavie and Shireroth, and interpret it as preparations for war. Andreas sends communiques to Toketi (delivered by hand, so as not to be intercepted electronically) requesting their aid as Novatainia's most ancient and valued allies. Andreas expresses hope that with Toketi by his side, the Maraguoans will step down and peace will return. Finally, he muses about why the Maraguoans attacked originally, and why the NISB agents haven't got the second prisoner interrogated yet to report back to him.
Andreas began drafting his own communique. This one, the Maraguoans would not be able to intercept. This one, Andreas send a messenger to deliver personally. That was the fun of having neighbours.
Dearest King Boris Ivanovich Serov ronToketi VI,
Sincerest greetings from your Novatainian cousins. A recent unprovoked attack by the Maraguoans has led to a situation such that it looks like they are about to declare war on us. We fear for the defence of our citizens in Novatainian-controlled Jasonia, and the loss of history in such an important place. We humbly request that you, our most ancient and greatest allies, pledge your aid to our defence. Surely with such a mighty nation as Toketi behind us, Maraguo will be willing to see reason and cease their aggression towards us. With your help, much spilling of blood can be avoided.
Much thanks from your fellow Gralan monarch,
King Andreas the Overtitled
With messengers dispatched to deliver those, hopefully some progress could be made in halting this Maraguoan aggression. But what had caused it? While he would be the first to admit his attention had been diverted from the isles for the last month or so (since the Ptia incidient), he could think of nothing that would cause the Maraguoans to so blatantly betray the Floating Island Pact - unless, of course, they sought all the islands under their control. PRH, Nelaga was so unsuspecting of attack, it only had an NISB office because the head of the office had insisted, and was a fellow Jasonian Historian. Normally Andreas had some idea what was going on before it happened, but he hadn't even guessed this until the NISB agents gave their report. Well, NISB's allegiance to Novatainia, the King and his ideals was unquestionable, at least. He'd just have to hope they had something more substantial for him after they'd finished questioning the prisoners, a process, he was told, that would be delayed due to unforseen complications in transporting one of them. Ah well, he had other work to do in the meantime.Dearest Lord Nargoth,
You consented to be our Minister for Defence - I call on you now in that capacity. Unprovoked attacks by Maraguoans have left us fearing for our defence in an are we thought least likely to be attacked. I also promised I would do my best to avoid a conflict of interest between your role with us and your role in Toketi. I am doing my best with that now - though if you would be able to put in a word with your fellow Tokian nobles in our favour, you could probably go a long way to ensuring the success of that matter. I have fought against Tokians before, and it is an experience I do not wish to repeat. Fight with us (if it does come to fighting), and the Gralans will stand together for another war!
Many thanks,
King Andreas the Overtitled
Summary: NISB agents intercept the Maraguoan call for help to Batavie and Shireroth, and interpret it as preparations for war. Andreas sends communiques to Toketi (delivered by hand, so as not to be intercepted electronically) requesting their aid as Novatainia's most ancient and valued allies. Andreas expresses hope that with Toketi by his side, the Maraguoans will step down and peace will return. Finally, he muses about why the Maraguoans attacked originally, and why the NISB agents haven't got the second prisoner interrogated yet to report back to him.
Andreas
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander