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Forum Meta => Role Play => Archived Role Play Boards => Archive => General Roleplay => Topic started by: Prydania on January 14, 2007, 12:29:26 AM

Title: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on January 14, 2007, 12:29:26 AM: (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/CNS.png)

"Good evening. My name Karla Jennings, and welcome to the evening news.

Our top story today; the escalating Éire crisis.
Lord Protector Crofts, in response to the ÉRA's unprovoked and deadly attacks on five government buildings over the past week, has issued an executive order declaring Martial Law in Éire. The Lord Protector stated that a massive military buildup centred around Éire will begin immediately.
The Lord Protector's vow to stomp out the ÉRA's rebellion was met with hostility from the international community, lead by American President Elliot Frémont. For more on that we go to Senior Foreign Correspondent Gordon Newman. Gordon?"

We goe to a split video screen with Gordon Newman in front of the White House in the DSA capital of Washington

"Thank you Karla. Immediately after Lord Protector Crofts issued his executive order to send in military personal into Érie President Frémont's office issued this statement:
'The President of the Democratic States of America finds the Commonwealth government's act of aggression on its own citizens as a crime against humanity. The President demands that the Éire issue be solved not with bloodshed, but before an international committee.'
Consul of Foreign Affairs Destler issued this statement:"

We go to a video clip of Destler being interviewed on the steps of the Department of Foreign Affairs building

"President Frémont, to be frank, needs to remove his nose from situations that don't concern him. This is a matter of internal security. The Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia will not, under any circumstances, allow an international body to dictate how it is to conduct its own internal matters."

We go back to the split screen of Karla in the studio and Gordon in Washington

"There you have it Karla. As of now the American government has yet to issue a reply to Consul Destler's statement."
"Thank you Gordon, we'll be seeing you again should anything further on the Éire crisis come out of the States.
We're going to take a commercial break, when we get back we'll look at the latest round of Major-General arrests."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on January 14, 2007, 01:39:22 AM: Council of State conference room, under the Commonwealth Parliament Building
"Thank you Gordon, we'll be seeing you again should anything further on the Éire crisis come out of the States.
We're going to take a commercial break, when we get back we'll look at the latest round of Major-General arrests."

The television in the upper left corner of the concrete room went blank as Consul of War Mark Anderson pushed the "POWER" button on the clicker.

"Howe" Crofts snapped, his attention focused on Gerrard Howe, Consul of Security, "what can we expect from our American fiends?"
"I think we can expect a good deal of AIB supplies and advisers to be funneled into Éire in support of the ÉRA. It's the position of the Frémont administration to weaken the Commonwealth, and an independent Éire, even an unstable one, would achieve that goal."
"Is this theory or fact?"
"I can safely say it's fact Sir. CSIS undercover agents, as well as AIB and administration contacts, confirm this."
"And the Major-Generals?"
"I have undercover agents scattered throughout Éire, and an ÉRA infiltration program is already underway."
"Very good Consul Howe."
Gerrard breathed a sigh of relief. When the LP demanded to know a Consul's status on a position he expected things to be well under way.

"Destler" Crofts snapped, turning to his brother-in-law and the Consul of Foreign Affairs, "what are we doing about the Americans on the diplomatic front?"
"Frémont can't keep up the support for the ÉRA for very long. He's been holding back southern secessionists for two years. He'll crumble under the weight of his hypocrisy."
"I wasn't asking that Consul" Crofts shot back, "I want to know how you're going to pressure the Yankees into limiting their support to Collins and the rest of his ÉRA thugs."
"Obviously we'll threaten tariffs, embargoes, the usual lot. However the Southern secessionists can work to our advantage. I'll make sure to remind him that if he insists on helping the Éirens, that he remember the adage 'what goes around comes around.'"
Crofts nodded. "Good Consul Destler."

"Anderson" Crofts said, turning his attention to the Consul of War, "what's the military plan at the moment?"
"After convening with the General Staff we have decided to starve them Sir."
"Explain."
"Admiral Paine has already begun blockading Éire. He's issued orders to escort all fishing vessels back into port. Any vessel that does not comply, or decided to venture back out will be sunk on site.
Field Marshal Theriot plans on seizing all major stores, meat packing plants, and processing centres.
Air Marshal Kline will order our bombers to spray a damaging chemical called O64, dangerous only to plant life, over all farms.
Once food has become scarce, and the Éiren population weakened, we will begin military operations against the ÉRA.
We're hoping the Éirens will come to blame the ÉRA for the lack of food, and turn against them. This will make our military operations that much easier, as we will then have some sort of native support."
"Excellent Consul Anderson.
Gentleman, this Commonwealth stands on the brink of oblivion. Make these terrorists understand what terror really means."

With that the Lord Protector got up and left, followed by two soldiers.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on January 14, 2007, 05:44:35 PM: "Éiren fishing vessel Deirdre, this is Captain Paul Moore of the Commonwealth Naval sub CSS Suffrage. This is a warning. Return to port or you will be fired upon. Please respond."

"Captain, we need to fish, our food supply back home is running low. Please, just let us stay out for one hour."
"You have your warning Deirdre. End transmission."
"Aye captain."

"Lieutenant Sutton, fire when ready."
"Captain..." Lieutenant Fields, navigational officer, began, "they're just asking for one hour. What's the harm?"
"Lieutenant" Moore fired back, "My orders to sink any Éiren vessel out of port come directly from Admiral Paine himself. Now I intend to carry out those orders, whether you agree or not. The only difference is that if you don't, I'll be forced to record it in my log, a log the Admiral will no doubt read. So I ask again for clarification, Lieutenant; what were you saying about our present course of action?"
"Nothing sir, nothing at all" Fields muttered.
"Excellent Lieutenant.
Lieutenant Sutton, as I said before, fire when ready."
"Aye sir."

The Suffrage rocked slightly with the impact of the torpedo on the Éiren fishing vessel.
"Lieutenant Fields" Moore ordered, "resume our present patrol."
"Aye captain" the Lt. replied, a gaping hole in his gut.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on January 18, 2007, 04:14:51 PM: Just outside of Centra Supermarket, Éiren capital of Béal Feirste
"What do you mean I can't go in?" Mairtín Hinds yelled, all of his rage directed at one of the Inglo-Scotian soldiers guarding the supermarket's entrance.
"Sir, you've already visited this location twice this month, that's all your rations card will allow."
"My family needs food!" he yelled, a sense of desperation creeping up on him.
"We're all out, and if I don't get in, there won't be any left next month. The rumors are that there hasn't been a single restocking since marshal law was declared."

"Sir," the soldier responded, "I'm sorry you and your family made unwise decisions regarding foodstuff management, but you will have to step aside for costumers who still have a visit or two left on their cards."
Apparently defeated, Hinds turned to walk away. Then, in an instant, he grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it into the soldier.
Just as he began a mad dash to the gap in the line of soldiers, he was gunned down.

The crowd fell into stunned silence, only the footsteps of Sgt. Ian Reid could be heard. The Sgt. stood front and centre to his troops.
"This man died" he began, "not by his own hand, or the hand of these soldiers. His death, and the suffering of the Éiren people, falls on the shoulders of David Collins and the rest of the murderous ÉRA. Blame them for your hardships."
With that he turned and made his way into the supermarket, ignoring the jeers of the crowd.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Democratic States of America on January 21, 2007, 03:52:37 AM: White House Press Room, Washington
"And now..."Press Secretary Milton Kress began, "the President of the Democratic States of America."
Kress removed himself from the podium as President Elliot Frémont stepped up.
"Today at 12 o'clock pm" he began, "I was handed a report. One that sickened and disturbed me. It covered atrocities committed by the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia on its own citizens.
The people of the Commonwealth province of Éire are being starved by their own government. The Commonwealth's military has been ordered to not only cut off the flow of food into Éire, but to also strictly ration all food within the province.
What I describe to you is nothing short of genocide. Men who want nothing more then an extra loaf of bread to feed their families are gunned down. Fishermen are sunk by the Commonwealth navy.
These Democratic States will not stand by as Lord Protector Crofts systematically starves Éire in a quest for personal power.
I am hereby calling for an alliance of nations to force the Commonwealth to end its slaughter of the Éiren people, and to allow the Éire separatist crisis to be resolved by that alliance.
We will not sit here as thousands are sacrificed on Crofts' alter of power."

As soon as it became clear the president had finished the reporters jumped on him like hungry vultures.
"Yes, you" Frémont said, pointing to a reporter third from the left in the second row.
"James Carver, New Ustio Times.
Mr. President, you are on record saying the goal of any international council should be an independent Éire. How do you respond to Frasier Pershing's accusations of hypocrisy on your part concerning the Southern secessionist movement?"

"Mr. Pershing fails to realize that the two matters have nothing to do with each other. The Éiren people are a people with a distinct culture from that of the Inglo-Scotians. Self-determination is at risk here.
The movement Mr. Pershing represents is not interested in self-determination, the southerners of this country share a culture with that of the north. David Collins of the ÉRA seeks the right for his people to rule themselves. Mr. Pershing simply wants an excuse not to pay tariffs. Next questions....yes you."

"Mary Hillard, San Andreas Free Press.
Do you have a response to Consul Destler's statement demanding America remove itself from what he called 'a matter of internal security'?"
"I would hardly classify the slaughter of thousands as simply an internal security matter. Thank you there will be no further questions."
With that the president exited the press room, leaving a crowd of clamoring reporters in his wake.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on January 22, 2007, 03:14:49 AM: "Can you believe this horseshit?" Jack Anderson swore at the image of Fremont on the screen. He reached for the bottle of whiskey across from him, pouring a double, he downed in one gulp, wheezing as it burned it's way down his thoat.

"'Tariffs....tariffs... I'll show him tariffs! Where does this ass clown come off? Common culture.... common culture my ass! I mean, sure, we watch the same television shows, read the same books, speak the same language, and in some cases, listen to the same music.... but there's more to a culture than just that... it's... it's...."

"It's what?" Asked Michael Chamberlain, who sat next to him, watching the now muted image of the DSNN anchor prattling on about some kind of crisis in Ryazania. "You have to admit, the damnyankee's got a point. At least as far as the outside world is concerned. Things aren't like they were a hundred and fifty years ago."

Anderson spat his contempt as he spoke "Who's side are you on, anyways? Look, things may not be like they were back then, but alot of things *are* the same. When it comes down to it, culture is alot more than *pop* culture, it has to do with customs, traditions, values, lifestyles. All of which differ significantly down here. Besides, even if we shared as much "culture" as this pompous ass would have people believe, there is still the fact that we have the same right to self determination as those in Eire. Frasier's right, Fremont's a fucking hypocrite. He stands up there on his high and mighty pedastal talking about human rights and a lot of other bullshit, and then turns right around and tells Dixie to go fuck itself."

Throughout this tirade, Chamberlain had sat quietly sipping his beer. He agreed with Anderson, he just didn't feel the need to scream his opinions to all within earshot. He did say what he felt he needed to, however. "Look, Jack, I agree with you, you're preaching to the choir, the point I was trying to make here is that it doesn't matter a hoot in hell how right we are, what matters is how effective the League of The South is in getting the message across. I know Frasier as well as you do, we served together in the Army for longer than I care to recall, and if anyone can get the word out, he can. But even at that, we've got an uphill climb at best. Not just against the damnyankees, but even convincing our own people that we need to seceede."

As if on cue, the bartender changed the channel to a local station out of Mobile. "The Pershing Factor" had become the number one syndicated news talk show in the South, with a large audience even in some of the northern states. A former DSA General turned political pundit, Frasier J Pershing definately had a knack about him. Whether it was a knack to inspire, or a knack to inflame, whatever it was... he definately had it.....

The screen faded in, a cut shot to Pershing revealed a very angry expression, made all the more forboding by Frasier's high forhead and somewhat receeding hairline, his brown eyes seemed peaceful enough, framed by a scowl which conveyed nothing but contempt.

"Good Evening America." He began... "I'm Frasier Pershing, and it's high time for some truth...."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on February 04, 2007, 03:45:08 AM: Just outside the gates of Éiren capital of Béal Feirste
The people of Béal Feirste looked on with horror as row after row of Commonwealth soldiers marched into the traditional capital of Éire. The sound of them marching in perfect unity was almost hypnotizing. The grey clouds of the Éiren sky reflected off of their visors, causing one to wonder if those visors weren't in fact made of smoke.
The soldiers, dressed from head to two in black, the only colour bing the two small red "V"s on the Commonwealth flag patch on the left arm, seemed like a deadly smog moving through the city. Every 20 meters two soldiers each carried a Commonwealth flag by a pole, as it gently fluttered in the faint breeze.

At the lead of the column marched Colonel Michael Jones. He was dressed in the same uniform as the other soldiers, only in place of the black helmet/visor combo he wore a black beret adorned by a red "V" in the front. The long column of soldiers finally stopped at the steps of the Éire parliament building, where a makeshift podium had been set up.

Colonel Jones made his way to the podium, as civilians and soldiers listened on.

"Marshall Law attempted to bring peace to the ÉRA crisis by having the provincial government of Éire work hand in hand with the Commonwealth Military. Sadly the desired objective was not achieved. Therefore by executive order from the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia Steven Crofts, the Provincial Government of the Commonwealth province of Éire is disbanded, and the province is to be placed under direct military control for an undetermined amount of time...."
Before he could finish screams and hisses barraged him from the civilian crowd.

"The General Staff" he continued, "has selected me, Colonel Michael Jones, to act as Military Governor. My first act is to ratify Military Order G-57 by executive decision. The elements of Military Order G-57 can be found on the many posters that will be put up throughout the city shortly.
The Military Occupation only needs to last as long as David Collins and the ÉRA freely operate. I call on you on behalf of the military, government, and people of the Commonwealth to aid your own cause, help us end the ÉRA's senseless wave of violence. It's the only way to return to normalcy."
The Colonel made his way into the Éiren parliament, blocking out the boos and screams from behind him.

Finally he came across the office usually reserved for the Speaker of the House. It would serve as his office until the Military Occupation had ended.
The room was decorated with various portraits of historical Éirens. Two flag poles stood in the corners behind the desk; the provincial flag of Éire, and the traditional green, white, and orange horizontal tri-colour of Éire.

"Private" the Colonel demanded.
"Yes sir" a soldier following him answered.
"Have a crew come in here and remove all of these portraits and that garish tri-colour. Then have a portrait of the Lord Protector and a Commonwealth flag brought in."
"Yes sir."
"I plan on making myself very comfortable here" the Colonel said, half to himself.

(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/militaryoccupationofErieposters.jpg)
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on February 04, 2007, 05:13:58 PM: "Good evening America, this is Frasier Pershing, and it's high time for some truth! Today, President Fremont made the claim that The South only wishes to escape tarrifs, insinuating that we are economically inferior. The truth is that it is indeed Fremont himself who is thinking about the wallet of a fat and bloated bureaucratic sesspool. The truth is that without Southern exports, the North would lose it's superpower status and be reduced to a mediocre shadow of it's former self!

Perhaps though, the most infuriating comment, was that our culture is identical to that of the North, a comment born of ignorance and racism. The cultures of the two regions are in fact similar, thanks to years of cultural genocide waged by the leftist media and the bleeding hearted cretins in Washington. They use the mistakes of a past chequered with racism as a pretext for our cultural extermination! They say we should let go, that the War of Secession was 150 years ago, and it's time to get over it... and I say to them, that slavery was 150 years ago, and *they* need to get over it!

We live in a new world, with new ideas, and Dixie is not the same as she was, and yet she is the same. She is better, a heart still beating strong with the blood of patriots who believe in right and wrong, and the right of individuals to pursue their own destiny, not to have it legislated by ancient hypocrites with hardening arteries and soft minds. Our flags and patriotic songs have been all but outlawed over the years, our citizens are advertised as the epitome of idiocy, and ridiculed without cause. Tell me now... who then harbours prejudice?

Fremont sits on his bloated ass yelling canned sermons at Steven Crofts over the current situation in Eire, while making sure that Washington keeps it's steel boot of oppression over Dixie! No more! We will no longer stand for this!

I urge all citizens within the south, make your voices heart! Write your congressmen, contact the local offices of The League of The South to find out how you can get invovled. If you have a Confederate Flag, put it on your car or home. It's time for us to quit being ashamed of what we are! For our friends who may live up north, but support our cause, show your support however you choose, and know that you are appreciated.

This Saturday, the 24th, I will be staging a rally at Blasco Stadium in Birmingham, for information, call our office after the show. Well folks, that's all the time we have for tonight, Good night, God bless, Deo Vindici. Sleep safe America."

"And......CUT!" Called the producer, the lights over Pershing's desk went out one by one, he waited until the red lights of the cameras went off before producing a silver flask form the left inside breast pocket of his grey coat. He sook a generous drink, and stowed it back away again.

"Frasier, you've got some more hate mail!" called out Michelle French, his assistant. Pershing looked up and raised an amused eyebrow before replying "oh, joy, I needed a good laugh" in a very droll fashion.

Standing up from behind the desk he towered over the girl, at just over six and a half feet tall, Frasier Pershing towered over nearly everybody he met. He was of thick build, but not excessively overweight. His voice had very little of the drawl most often associated with Southerners, he had a smooth very distinctive voice, sounding a mixture of southern, midwestern, and even a bit of Inglish when speaking certain words. Frasier Pershing was many, many things, but ordinary was not one of them.

He took one of the letters and scanned it briefly for anything of value, seen that it was simply another obscenity laced hate rant, he wadded it up and tossed it. "Fucking idiots." he commented as he walked away.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Democratic States of America on February 04, 2007, 06:07:09 PM: Oval Office, White House, Washington
Pershing's face disappeared from the television screen as Frémont sunk into his chair.
"I hate freedom of the press" the President mumbled to himself.
"What are we going to do about that treasonous son-of-a-bitch?"

"Right now" Paul Rae the Presidential Chief of Staff responded, "we do nothing. Let that alcoholic wind bag pull up FXX (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/FXXNews.png)'s ratings, it'll help the economy."

"We just can't let him get away with this shit" Frémont protested.
"You're going to have to Elliot" Rae murmured looking over military reports, "because right now you have to deal with Éire. You've committed yourself to that. If you go after the secessionists at the same time that your helping Collins you'll just add wind to Pershing's sails. Just ignore him, focus on Éire."

"When do you want to me let the Chiefs of Staff know they can begin drawing up war planes?"
"Jesus Christ Paul, I'm not going to push for an open declaration of war against Inglo-Scotia."
"Pardon? Wasn't it you said the Democratic States of America won't stand for what Crofts is doing over there?"
"Look, I'll have the AIB funnel supplies and advisers, maybe even send of a general or two help the ÉRA in military matters, but we are not going to war Paul. I want that clear."

"Elliot" Rae pressed on, "yesterday Crofts ended Marshall Law, dissolved the Érien provincial government, and ordered a full military occupation. He's got more man power over then just enough to maintain order. He's got a good chunk of his army over there, and they're running the province. The ÉRA can't win this fight Paul, even with all supplies we send over, they don't stand a chance. We need to get our military over there ASAP."

"Paul, I won't go to war over this. I'll help them covertly, I'll endorse them publicly, but I WILL NOT drag this country into war over this. Understood?"
"Yes sir" Rae conceded.
"If Elliot Frémont has one weakness" he thought "it's that he's to hesitant to take any real action."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Éiren Republican Army on February 04, 2007, 06:26:57 PM: The glowing ember of the cigarette trailed in the cold darkness from the mouth of David Collins to the ashtray at the right side of his leather recliner. He could have done to be a few degrees warmer, but was thankful he even had electricity in such an out of the way place... yes... hiding out had it's price.

He sat and watched variations of the same scene played out on channel after channel, town after town.... thousands of IS infantry moving into towns throughout Éire. The sight made naseous, even more so than the sight of that goddamned red "V" he seen everywhere now.

He was going to have to do something about that.

Éire was going to be independent. Of that he was sure, for the alternative was far worse than death, as most of the ERA would rather die than live under the regime of a madman like Crofts. Collins sneered as he glanced over at the wall to his right, it was lined with nearly every type of firearm known to man. A back room was filled with other supplies.. MRE's ammo.... bomb making supplies.... an icy ball formed in the pit of his stomach though.

A thousand times that would not be enough.

If they were going to have even a slight chance of driving Crofts out of Éire, they were going to need all the help they could get......
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on February 06, 2007, 10:53:05 PM: Blasco Stadium - Birgmingham

Better weather could have been desired.... a truly fridgid morning coming in at exactly zero degrees. No one really cared about the windchill. The snow fell from the sky in sheets of white, washing over the normally bustling cityscape. Chamberlain and Anderson had done everyhing shy of begging Pershing to postpone the rally due to the inclimate eather, to which Pershing cursed in a manner which few of them had ever heard before (quite a feat given both of the other men were former DSA naval officers) and then said "Freedom doesn't get called out on account of snow."

It turned out that the people agreed with Pershing, with a near max capacity turn out in the 40,000 seat stadium. Pershing stood in the locker room, where he was meeting with Anderson and Chamberlain. Frasier looked in a mirror as he buttoned down a long black wool trench coat, putting a black leather cowboy hat to cover his balding head. If he was nervous, he did a damn good job of hiding it.

"Frasier, we've fought long and hard to get this far, don't blow it." Cautioned Anderson.

"Don't you worry about that, Jack." Frasier used a tone bordering on one which would imply arrogance, Anderson and Chamberlain exchanged nervous glances. Pershing caught it in the reflection offered by the mirror and smiled.

"Look," Pershing continued, "you don't have to tell me how much we got riding on this, how much so many people have riding on this. We know we're doing the right thing, we let faith provide the tools with which to do it."

Anderson sighed "Faith doesn't pay the League's debts, Frasier, faith doesn't gain governorships, seats in the Congress and Senate, and most importantly, faith sure as hell isn't going to get the damnyankees out of here."

Pershing laughed softly. "You'd be suprised, Jackyboy, you'd be suprised."

Chamberlain took his turn " Where is your speech? We should go over it before you go up there."

Once again, Frasier only laughed. "It's right up here!" He said, tapping his head thoughtfully. "And right in here." This time, patting his chest. Chamberlain sighed, Andreson pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing the interior corners of his eyes as he looked down to the floor in a resigned mannor.

Frasier withdrew the silver flask from his pocket, and took a long gulp before placing it back in it's warm resting place. "Well, gentlemen, time to get this show on the road! Come, my friends, today, we make the world, and most importnatly, Fremont, take notice!" With that, Pershing turned about on his heels, and strode deliberately and purposefully out the door, waking through the hallway with his Anderson and Chamberlain at either side, and slightly behind.

The scene as they strode out onto the field was one of barely controlled chaos. The stands were a sea of Confederate flags, the red "X" against the dark blue background as had been adopted in 1845 at the onset of the War of Secession. Signs peppered the crowd mass, they varied from the expected and conventional "Free Dixie Now!!!" to the more colourful "Fuck 'em up Frasier!!" The latter made Pershing smile heartily upon reading it. He took his place on the rather modest stage set in the middle of the field, the snow contrasting as rapidly multiplying white speckles upon the background of his black coat and hat. Standing up to the microphone, he pointed up into the crowd to the person waving the sign, thundering his reply to it as the cameras displayed the image on the jumbotron monitors which rimmed the stadium.

"And indeed I shall my friend!!!"

The crowed roared it's approval. Pershing took his hat off, bowing modestly to the crowd as they continued their welcome. Frasier smiled, holding up his arms with palms open to the crowd, slowly the roars and whistles dissapated. He drew in a deep breath, leaned forward into the microphone, his left hand clenched into a fist. A sneer draped his slips as he spat out the words.

"Mr Fremont!!! I know you can hear me! I stand here today, with these good people, and the entire world as witness to what I am about to say.... Mr. Fremont.. you have a problem! The problem here, is that we're tired of you, your government, and the so called "Union"'s illegal occupation of what should be a sovereign nation. Day by day, more and more people grow tired of societies' cultural genocide against our proud land, the villification and racist stereotyping of it's inhabitants, and the rest of the nations scornful attitude towards us.

We're called racist, ignorant, incestuous, uncultured, and most ironically, intolerant. Yet the very people who label us as these things refuse to tolerate us! Who then, are the racists? The intolerant? The predjuticed and bigotted? It is your people, Mr Fremont!!

And we will not stand for it!

A hundred and fifty years ago our sovereign nation was raped, pillaged, and occupied by an illegal and illegitmate force of mindless barbarians with silver forked tongues that spoke of freedom and equality while dealing in the flesh and souls of their fellow man. They sang of the glory of the coming of the Lord whilst the change of the slave trade jingled merrily in their finely woven pockets!

Standing on the blood of over a half million slaughtered souls, you instituted your policies of brainwashing our youth, of "reconstructing" The South by teaching her sons and daughters that their forefathers fought for the right to oppress those of colour. That your campaign of conquest and bloodlust was a campaign of freedom."

Pershing stopped momentarily, drew in yet another deep breath, and laughed softly as he delivered his next sentence.

"Well, Mr. Fremont, if I'd wanted bullshit, I would've stayed on my daddy's farm!"

The crowd erupted with thunderous approval in the form of cheers, whistles, chants, and laughter. Pershing subdued the roar, and continued.

"Your taxes rob our people while your left wing government carries out it's perverse and misguided Robin Hood fantasies, your regulations stifle our industry in an attempt to turn Dixie into an economic sycophant, your social agendas attempting to legislate our very morality and thoughts.

And you claim Stephen Crofts is oppresive."

The next sentance coming out half bellow, half gutteral roar.

"Don't make me laugh!

"Fellow Southerners, everything I have said here today, you know in your heart of hearts to be true. Now to answer the question on everyone's mind." Pershing's voice became soft and sharp, very deliberately pronouncing each syllable of the next sentence.

"What do we do about it?

"The answer, my brothers and sisters, is quite simple. The South holds over 70 electoral votes, without which, no presidential candidate can hope to be elected, and a sufficient number of the 20 Southern States must ratify any constitutional amendment for it to have a chance of being enacted. We hold the key to our freedom not in our hands, but in our ballots.

What then, if a candidate that supported the continued occupation of Dixie could not get into office? What then, if an amendment which harmed Dixie stood little to no chance of ratification? I think you're seeing where I'm going with this. The League of The South is opening local chapters in every area we can possibly get to, we're getting the word out, and knowledge is power.

Yes, Mr Fremont... you do have a problem.

But not nearly as big of a problem as you're going to have.

Show your support brothers and sisters, fly the flag, vote your heart, speak the truth. Do these things, and the voices of many shall be heard as one. Together, we'll make our voices heard, and together, we can win back that which was wrongfully stolen from us.

Good day my friends, and God bless you all!!"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on February 21, 2007, 06:14:25 PM: Private Gregory knocked on the large, wooden doors of the main chamber of the Éiren Parliament. At least that's what it used to be. Ever since the military occupation it had more or less served as Colonel Michael Jones' personal lounge.

"Come in" the Colonel yelled.
The two wooden doors swung open as two solider on the other side pulled them open.

The Colonel was slumped in the former chair of the speaker of the house, puffing on a cigar. He must have been puffing on a lot of them, as a grey-ish smoke gathered near the top of the chamber. Works of art that had been on display in the Béal Feirste Museum of Art were scattered all over the chamber, mostly leaning up against the seats in the aisles.

"Sir" the Private announced, "The Lord Protector requests an audience with you."
Suddenly the slumped body of the Colonel became rigid, dropping his cigar.
"The Lord Protector is here?"
"No sir, we have him via a video linkup."

The Colonel picked up his cigar, putting it out in an empty whine glass. He quickly tightened his tie, and buttoned his officer's jacket. Finally he picked up his sash and belt, tightening it around his waist and torso.
Walking toward the door, he quickly brushed away the dust from his sleeves.
"This way Colonel" the Private said, leading the Colonel to the cabinet conference room.

"The video link-up is ready Colonel" the Private stated, as the Colonel stood in front of a blank 40" screen.
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution" Jones responded, giving the Commonwealth salute.
The Private responded in kind before leaving.
Suddenly the screen turned on, revealing the Lord Protector, sitting at his desk in New Beaconsfield.
The Colonel snapped to attention, giving the Commonwealth salute.

"Colonel Jones, what is the status of your campaign against the ÉRA?"
"We have put out down forty-two riots across the province in the last two weeks. We've taken prisoners and identified the agitators of fifteen. All are ÉRA agents."

"And what have you learned from these prisoners."
"Well sir," Jones responded, "it appears that these agents are on the lowest level of the ÉRA chain of command, they don't even know where Collins is. It also appears that their contacts only know slightly more. It appears the ÉRA's command structure is as much horizontal as it is vertical."
"And?"
"Well sir, other then that ÉRA activity has been non-existent."

"Colonel, I sent you over there to do more then put down riots. Collins is keeping low because he's planing something. I want you to actually do what I sent you over to do; Engage in an aggressive campaign to find Collins and the rest of the ÉRA leadership. Do it before Collins has a chance to go through with whatever he has planned.
If you fail I have other officers who are more willing to act. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes Lord Protector."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution, Colonel."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution, sir."
With that the screen went blank.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Éiren Republican Army on February 22, 2007, 12:15:12 AM: "This better be good David" Joe McKee grunted as he and Billy Cahill shuffled into the remote farmhouse.
"It's windy as hell out there, it's late, and we were stopped by three separate patrol units coming over."

"You won't have to deal with bloody patrol units for much longer" David Collins mumbled, still looking over a map of Éire.
"Really? What's your grand plan now? Lord knows guerrilla warfare's as slow as a snail when it comes to getting results, and we've been set back months because you brilliantly suspended operations in favour of unorganized riots. Do you know how many Éiren were killed during those riots?...David?!?!"

"And they will be remembered as heroes" Collins responded calmly, still overlooking his map. "It will all be over by the end of the year."

"What do you mean?" Cahill asked, his emotions a mixture of fear, excitement, and curiosity.

"Well for starters" Collins continued, "no more guerrilla fighting. If we're going to kick those Inglo-Scotian bastards off of our island we need to hit them as hard as we can, straight on. We need to beat them at their own game.
Boys, we're going to war, traditional warfare."

"You're insane" Cahill responded. "You've lost your bloody mind. You want us to engage Crofts' army head on. They should lock a person up for suggesting something like that."

"Bill's right" McKee said. "It's practically suicide. That's a trained army we're talking about Davy. A professional army. Our boys, they've got heat, but they aren't professional soldiers."

"Listen up" Collins yelled. "I don't want this any more then you two do, but we don't have much of a choice. Guerrilla warfare wasn't getting us anywhere. If the Yanks had sent troops over it would be a different story..."
"Dave, they could still come" McKee interrupted.
"No, they aren't!" Collins yelled. A look of shock came over McKee and Cahill's faces.
"Sorry boys" Collins said seconds latter in a calmer voice. "An AIB agent was over here today. He told me my latest request to Frémont to send troops was denied. He also said they were going to slowly decrease their flow of supplies. The bastard told me they had their own problems to deal with....Without American support guerrilla warfare has nothing to far back on. With our supplies slowly being cut off continued guerrilla warfare means the slow but inevitable death of our movement. It's now or never boys. We hit Crofts and his lapdog Jones with everything we've got, or might as well give up now."

Both Cahill and McKee knew he was right, but neither wanted to admit it, at least not yet. Reality, though, has a way of making itself known quicker then anyone thinks. Both of them nodded slowly.
"Why the gloom look?" Collins asked, his attitude suddenly become gleeful. "We're going to win, boys....It's late, grab some beers, you'll spend the night here, you'll get picked up by the patrols otherwise. You'll inform the brigade leaders tomorrow."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Jelsi on February 22, 2007, 05:00:46 AM: While watching the news, Prime Minister DiNapoli decided to show her support for the nation of Inglo-Scotia. The Republic of Jelsi had faced numerous challenges with the Mafia, and as such was willing to show any support with any other nation in the world that was faced with such criminal and terrorist type acts. Sitting down at her desk, the Prime Minister began to write a simple letter to the top levels of Inglo-Scotian Government, with no access given to anyone other then .

Quote
To: The Inglo-Scotian Government
From: Prime Minister DiNapoli
The Republic of Jelsi

Our country has learned of your recent troubles with the dangerous Eira Organization. We would like for you to know that we support you and your people. After dealing with numerous Mafia Organizations in our country, as we still do to this day, we would like to offer assistance from one of our Anti Mafia Agency, with task forces setup to combat similar situations. We would also like to offer some operative units from the Jelsi Intelligence Bureau, or maybe an Infantry Division from our Army. If not, we wish you luck in your fight, and know that we stand behind you. Thank You, and God Bless.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Zimmerwald on February 22, 2007, 05:09:48 AM: Communication was rapidly breaking down between the two branches of the Gallipoli-Chinese legislature. The chambers were divided on the issue of Eire: the Parliament expressed support for Inglo-Scotia, the Workers' Council for Eire. As the Parliament had granted coeval powers to the Workers' Council, no resolution of support or opposition could come from the Gallipoli-Chinese government, and the regular business of government, which had already suffered from surreptitious blocking by one chamber of the other's initiatives, suffered.

Back and forth it went, with people like Aram and Akbar hoping to renew civil discourse, and those like Lin and bin-Sultan derailing the process time and again. Eire would be the center of a power struggle between the two bodies before all was said and done.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on February 24, 2007, 10:47:36 PM: Fredrika looked out a window in the Master Suite in the Grand Imperial Residence, watching the guards goosestep across the central Piazza before turning around and doing the same thing.

That guy's kinda cute...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a set of feet walking up the stairs.

"Meneldur's giving Ælar a noogie again." Peté said before walking into his study.

"Oh..." Fredrika sighed before walking downstairs.

Peté sat at his computer and typed a letter to Pershing Fraiser.

Quote
I support your wish for seceding from the Democratic States of America. No nation has the right to stop a jurisdiction from seceding if it is explicitly stated in their constitution that they can. The DSA have been oppressing you and stereotyping you, and it's high time they let you do something for yourself.

Peté Tar-Ilium, King of Myroria.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 02, 2007, 10:02:48 PM: "Sir, ÉRA uprisings reported in Newry and Kilkenny in the last half-hour" the a private reported, listening on the wireless.
"Same drill as Waterford and Cork" Colonel Johnson replied.

The cabinet room of the Éiren parliament building had been transformed into a war room. The windows were shut, the lights dimmed, maps covering the conference table. At the head sat Colonel Michael Johnson.
Two cities had been lost, and two more were to follow. Yet Johnson wasn't concerned.

"Tell all Inglo-Scotians and military personal to evacuate the city" he relayed to the private working over the wireless.
"Yes sir."

"What a vast empire you're building for yourself Collins" he chuckled to himself, looking over a map of Éire.

"Sir" a private informed the Colonel entering the room, "Field Marshal Theriot is on the emergency line. He demands to speak with you."
"I'll take it from the main chamber. Major Creedy, you're in command until I return. Same drills for any city that Collins tries to stir up trouble in."
"Yes sir" the Major replied.
-------------------------------------------------------
The doors of the main chamber of the Éiren parliament swung open. Once at the speaker's chair he removed a covering over the chair's right arm and picked up a red phone.

"Field Marshal Theriot, Colonel Johnson reporting."
"Colonel" the field marshal responded, his voice as cold as ice, "would you mind explaining to me why you've surrendered four cities to David Collins and his thugs at the first sign of trouble? Or would like to save that information for when you're brought up on charges of treason?"

"Sir" the Colonel replied, unshaken, "I am currently engaged in strategic withdrawals that will only strengthen our position."
"Explain how losing four cities improves your position!"
"With all due respect Field Marshal, you have no idea of the current status of the enemy forces here on the ground.
Collins doesn't have the man-power to capture all of Éire and still leave sufficient troops behind to secure the cities he's captured. Each city he's captured he's done so with almost his entire force. He's moving his entire army from city to city, leaving behind a few men, twenty at the most, to run each city he's captured. By withdrawing forces from each city we can dictate the terms of the battle field.
I plan to draw him out into the open, where I'll crush him with my superior forces here at Béal Feirste. In one move I'll crush his entire army and the control over all the cities he's captured will be broken. He's desperate General, I can feel it. He'll charge me head on like a mad man, and after I brush him aside we won't have to deal with this dreadful ÉRA business any longer. We'll break his army, and execute the remaining ÉRA officers.
You may tell the Lord Protector that when this is all said and done David Collins will be a dead man, and his movement will be tossed into history's dustbin."

"Judging by Collins' current movements I will have to agree with you that an ÉRA offencive against Béal Feirste is probable. But keep this in mind Colonel; if Collins takes that city you better die in the battle, because it will be very favourable compared to the alternative."
"Understood sir."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution Colonel."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution General."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Zimmerwald on March 03, 2007, 02:35:37 AM: "You're decieving dues-paying members, is what you're doing," Lin threw up her hands in frustration as she paced the central room in the suite. The four remaining members of the Executive Committee of the Party had rented the suite in one of the PIUC's hotels so that Aram could prepare in peace for the debates. In fact, he had shut himself up in his room so he could do just that. Salah, like a sensible person, was asleep. However, this was not the best situation, as Lin and Feng cordially disliked each other, and were likely to bicker.

This spat had been set off by Lin's curiosity. She had put down the paper to see Feng bent over his desk. Feng usually wasn't one to work intensively; he usually retained a passive, languid posture, no matter how hard he was actually working. She, naturally, had gone to investigate, and, before Feng had the presence of mind to hide the check, she had seen the words "David Collins" and several zeroes.

"It's for their own good. If Collins' revolution succeeds, we'll have a powerful ally once we win the elections." Even his voice was calm, and a bit condescending.

"You act as if it's a given!" Lin was almost screaming. "If you're giving that much money to Eire, we won't have enough left to run a campaign!"

"It'll be alright, Lin. Trust the people." The sarcasm dripped from the words.

"Oh, shut up. I'm going to bed." She did, but resolved to tell Aram at the first opportunity. He was the one who could put a stop to this, but he didn't need this right now, before the debate.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 05, 2007, 05:41:23 AM: Field Marshal Andrew Theriot was as nervous as he had ever been in his life. He did a fine job of hiding it though.
The icy stare of the Lord Protector seemed to be piercing his soul. So little actually separated them; just the Lord Protector's oak desk in his office in the west tower of Parliament. Yet more then furniture was separating them. It was hard to tell what that thing was, it just a feeling. Something that would land Theriot in a cell on trial for treason if things didn't go a certain way. Yes, Theriot had been instrumental to Crofts winning the Revolution, and in fact he graduated ahead of Crofts from the Imperial Military Academy. That didn't matter though. That was then, this was now.
And now, no matter who you are, you don't cross the Lord Protector. Not in Inglo-Scotia. These days people have died for less then that.
The field marshal did not dare let his stare wander off to the large, almost wall-length window behind the desk of the Lord Protector. At the same time he dared not let his eyes come into contact with those of the Lord Protector.
Suddenly the door on the opposite end of the large oak office opened. A grey-haired but young-looking man wearing the traditional dress of a "Commonwealth servant", as in a government employee or politician, a black suite, white dress shirt, black tie with a red "V" tie pin and a Commonwealth flag lapel, entered.
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution" he proclaimed as he saluted Crofts.
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution" the Lord Protector responded in kind.
"Field Marshal Theriot" Crofts said, offering the spare seat beside the general to the new arrival, "I believe you know Gerrard Howe, Consul of Internal and External Security."
"Yes, yes I do" the general responded, as he leaned toward the Consul to shake his hand.

"Gentlemen" the Lord Protector started, "I have brought both of you here today to discuss the situation in Éire. As I understand it you, Field Marshal, have approved a controversial plan by the military governor of the province to deal with the ÉRA's frontal military assault on our forces. Is that correct?"
"Yes sir. It is. After reviewing the situation, as well as reports from the field from the Consul's Major-General agents, I can conclude that Colonel Jones is making the right decision."
"That's all well and good general, but the Consul here has some information provided by the CSIS that complicates the situation. Consul?"

"Thank you Lord Protector.
Gentlemen, the information I release to you know is both unconfirmed and highly confidential. The fact that it is unconfirmed as of now makes it no less vital and important.
CSIS agents and contacts in Gallipoli-China believe that the Gallipoli-Chinese are funding the Éirens, monetarily speaking. There doesn't appear to be any sort of flow in the form of men, advisers, or arms. That doesn't change the fact the Gallipoli-Chinese may be supporting the ÉRA both monetarily and in spirit.
This means that if Collins does beat Johnson at Béal Feirste, and an independent Éire is established, they will most certainly be a strong ally of Gallipoli-China."
"Fuck..." Crofts said to himself, "a godforsaken socialist ally right in the middle of this Commonwealth. This can not be allowed to happen. Do you understand Field Marshal?"
"Most definitely Lord Protector" Theriot answered.
"If Johnson loses Éire he won't be the only one on trial for treason Andrew."
"Understood sir" the field marshal responded, still hiding his nervousness very well. "Colonel Johnson will not fail."
"Good" the Lord Protector responded. "Long Live the Victorious Revolution gentlemen" he said, saluting them.
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution" they both replied, saluting in unison.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Zimmerwald on March 05, 2007, 09:59:42 PM: Quote
The Parliament of Gallipoli-China

IN THE INTERESTS of peace and stability
FINDING that violence benefits no one
URGING peaceful solution upon all parties in conflict

RESOLVES

not to appropriate State funds for any purpose within the sovereign territory of the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia, or the proposed Republic of Eire
not to offer amnesty to any refugee from Eire
to preserve complete and perfect neutrality of the State in all matters pertaining to Eire.

ADDENDUM
Private individuals and groups may act as they see fit.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Éiren Republican Army on March 06, 2007, 05:15:54 PM: City Hall, ÉRA-controlled city of Cork
"Now is the time to make the final push!" Collins yelled into the microphone as the mixed crowd of ÉRA soldiers cheered on.
"They say we don't have the numbers to drive the fascist invaders from our land" he continued, "they say there's no way we can win!
To those to detract from us I tell them to wait. Just wait until the green, white, and orange if flying from the top of the Béal Feirste Parliament!"
The crowd's support turned into rabid cheering.
"This dark virus has infected out land for to long. We will push them out! We will have out freedom!
We don't have the numbers, yes that's true. It isn't about the numbers though, not any more. Who wins and who loses, that's not in hands of myself, or the Colonel Johnson sitting in Béal Feirste. It's up to the Lord. It's in his hands now. And he will vindicate us, who have kept His faith alive! We will be freed from the atheistic fascist plague that has taken our land and freedom!
A new era is about to start. An era of a free Éiren Republic! We march on Béal Feirste tomorrow!"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 06, 2007, 05:32:40 PM: Béal Feirste fortifications, Commonwealth-controlled Éire
Colonel Johnson stood there in front of the troops that would be defending the city from the ÉRA army. He stood next to four other men, all officers under his control.
The men were waiting for a speech, but not from him. Suddenly an armed group of soldiers emerged from the city. They dispersed for a moment as Steven Crofts, Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia stepped up to the makeshift podium.

"You stand here" he began, "not ready to defend a newly conquered piece of territory, but a piece of Inglo-Scotia. Éire has been part of Inglo-Scotia for eight-hundred years. Through Kings, Emperors, and yes, a Lord Protector, this land is as much a part of Inglo-Scotia as New Beaconsfield is. Do not forget that. You are all proud soldiers of the Commonwealth, and you stand here today to carry on the tradition we forged during the Victorious Revolution, a tradition of military excellence, a tradition of Parliamentary forces standing up and casting aside those who would threaten this Commonwealth's very existence!
Those who call themselves the Éiren Republican Army are nothing but an overgrown gang who murder innocent civilians to achieve their aim of anarchy on Inglo-Scotian soil. They will attack you with everything at once, remember that. Crush them here, and you crush them everywhere.
When the filth of David Collins is swept aside all that he has gained control over will fall back into Inglo-Scotian arms. We will regain what is rightfully ours, loyal soldiers of the Commonwealth.
We will smash those who threaten this Commonwealth to dust, just as five years ago we crushed those who threatened our own liberty and equality.
We will prevail here, we will crush those who wish to harm us, we will sweep them into the sea!
Long Live the Victorious Revolution" Crofts finished, giving teh Commonwealth salute to the soldiers.

"Long Live the Victorious Revolution" they replied in unison, saluting as one.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 09, 2007, 02:35:20 AM: Quote
Journal of ~~Major~~ Colonel Richard Creedy, Commonwealth Military Government of the province of Éire.Thursday March 8, 2007 9:00pm New Beaconsfield time
It must have been 4 o'clock yesterday morning when the patties began hitting our outer positions with artillery fire. You see we tried evacuated all military personal and equipment from every city we let them have, but in some cases we simply couldn't move all that equipment fast enough. They were able to get their hands on a few medium-range artillery cannons and two tanks.
I'll give it to 'em, they caught us by surprise. We weren't expecting the attack until sunrise.
I was the Colonel's man on the ground. He was back in the makeshift war room in the Parliament building calling the shots. I was there, at the front lines relaying orders to the troops.
Yes, once their initial momentum was gone we dealt with them rather handily. That doesn't make it easier to deal with though. War is war, and believe me, this was war. The smell of smoke, metal, artillery, burning flesh, it was all there. The sounds and sights of men in agony, young men dying before they ever got a chance to really enjoy life, I saw it all yesterday. Let the history books say we won an easy victory, we did. It doesn't make it any different. It doesn't make the brutality any less so.
I saw the same scene five years ago, during the Revolution. I was a Lieutenant then. The scenes were more brutal then, both sides were fighting tooth and nail during that war. This was different. The patties were gunned down quickly. Most didn't make it into the city. Yet the memories are still the same. I saw dying faces yesterday, I saw hopes for the future dashed.
Yet it had to be done. The patties did this to themselves. They gambled, and they lost everything.
That makes all the ugliness I saw yesterday worthwhile. Some might call me a monster for thinking that. No, that makes me a loyal soldier. They brought this on themselves, and they were squashed like the miserable bugs they are. So yes, seeing an enemy that harmed my country get obliterated put me at ease with all the horrors of war I saw.
We didn't find David Collins and William Cahill among the dead or captured. It doesn't matter anyway. They have no where to run. Their entire terrorist organization has been destroyed. Good luck trying to recruit more terrorists after the slaughter we handed them. I would be content if they were never caught, it would just mean a lifetime of misery and hiding for them.
We'll find them anyway though. We've already re-established military control over the entire island. We were even promoted. A few soldiers received the "Hero of the Commonwealth" metal. Colonel Johnson was made a Brigadier, one rank below general. I was promoted to Colonel. We were promoted by the Lord Protector himself.
I'm not sure how much longer the military occupation will last. I guess that's for the politicians to decide.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Éiren Republican Army on March 09, 2007, 02:51:31 AM: Cargo bay of the "Mistress of the Channel", a civilian goods transport between Inglo-Scotia proper and the island of Éire
Billy Cahill lay against a large freezer of frozen vegetables, his body covered in mud, and a red scare across his right cheek. David Collins leaned against the short end of the freezer, his knees tucked into his chest. his eyes locked on the floor.
Cahill got up, making his way over to his fallen leader.
"Davey, what we're going to do, lets think this through. We escaped capture. We could go anywhere, the States, Gallipoli-China, we'd be out of Crofts' reach forever. Why do this? Why go to New Beaconsfield? What we're doing Davey, it isn't right. It's not moral, and the backlash against Éire will be a thousand times worse then what they have planned now. The Lord will never forgive us Dave."

"The Lord?" Collins chuckled, "there is no fucking god Billy. The god I was raised to pray to wouldn't let this happen. If god does exist then he's fucking abandoned us. Either way I don't give a flying fuck what he thinks of me. And Éire's better off with us doing what we're going to do Billy. At least it will have some sort of vindication. Now are you with me or against me Billy?"

"I've been through hell and back with you Dave. I'm not leaving you know."
Collins didn't reply. He just held out his hand, embracing Cahill's tight grasp.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Éiren Republican Army on March 12, 2007, 08:22:03 PM: 4670 Axel Road, Fox Run, suburb of New Beaconsfield, Inglo-Scotia
knock knock

The door opened ajar, a chain still connecting it to the wall inside. An old man with a head covered sparsely with grey hair looked out through the opening.

"In Béal Feirste March is a winter month" Collins whispered.

The old man closed the door, and seconds latter after removing the chain opened the door all the way.
Collin and Cahill both entered. The old man took one last look down the streets of the suburb and closed the door, looking it.

"I was expecting ya Davey. Especially after hearing of your unfortunate luck on the battlefield. O'course the CNS is putting their usual spin on the nonsence, they even promoted that bloke who beat you."

"Great to see you to Joseph" Collins said, cracking a smile for the first time in days.
"Bill" he said, facing Cahill, "this my uncle Joseph Pearse."
"Nice to meet ya" Cahill remarked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"You have it?" Collins asked.
"You bet I do. The Major-Generals came by a day ago, but they didn't find anything."

He made his way over to the television set, picked up a book, and through it through the screen of the tv set. He then picked up a broom and used the handle to clear a hole big enough for him to reach into without being cut. Finally he pulled out a navy blue duffel bag. Here ya go Davey" he said, handing Collins the bag.
"Now go do what ya have to do."

Collins, tears starting to form in his eyes, embraced his uncle tightly, this probably being the last time he'd seen him.
-------------------------------------------------------
Collins lay on his side on the floor of the car. He couldn't risk being seen. Cahill's face was less well known, so his new buzz cut and glasses would be enough to fool the average cop.
The navy duffel was lying on the passenger seat.

"Where'd you get the material for this dirty bomb anyway?" Cahill asked as they stopped at a red light.
"After Crofts won the revolution there was a lot of chaos. He wasn't able to take control of everything at once, it took him about eight months to consolidate his control. The nuclear silos on the fringes of Inglo-Scotia were no exception. They had no idea what was going on, or who was in charge. Before Crofts could restore authority in the Larkhill silo a few of our agents were able to get in and grab the material needed for a dirty bomb, it seemed like something worth having should the situation arise....and now it has.

"So where do I plant this thing?" Cahill asked.
"Downtown, Victory Square. Near the monument. I'd wish we could detonate it near the Victory Tower and Parliament complex, but security's to tight."
"Security's no cake walk downtown either Davey" Cahill responded. They've got cameras and patrol vans down there."
"They won't notice you if there's a crowd."
"We can only hope."
"Ok, lets go over this again. You plant the bomb, in the duffel, in an alley near the monument of Crofts. You set it for 45 minutes. You get back to the car and we get as far away from downtown as possible."
"Got it."
-------------------------------------------------------
Billy Cahill looked up at the statue of Crofts in the middle of Victory Square in downtown New Beaconsfield. He wanted to spit on it, but wisely refrained.
Then he noticed what he was looking for; a dark alley. It was there, in between an Ozian restaurant and an electronics store, not even a block from the monument.
He quickly made his way over. Suddenly his hear froze, but instinct told him to keep moving. A black van, marked with the Commonwealth flag, and adorned with a dish and video camera on the roof drove by slowly, before speeding up again.
"Must have missed me" Cahill thought to himself.

Ducking into the alley unnoticed he unzipped the bag, taking out the bomb. It was a clunky thing, but he managed to find the make-shift timer, an old digital wrist-watch. Setting the timer for 45 minutes, he stuffed the bomb back into the bag and hid it in a trashcan.

Almost sprinting back to the car, he slammed the door shut and took off.
"It's done Davey" he said.....
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 15, 2007, 02:49:35 AM: OOC: For the sake of continuity, the following takes place just after the bomb goes off.

Office of the Lord Protector, Commonwealth Parliament building, New Beaconsfield
Crofts looked over that day's issue of the Times.
" 'Statistical Error' on page E5, iron production rates superseded pre-set aims, did not fall 85% short as article suggests" he said, speaking into a phone linked directly with the Department of Public Relations.
Usually this kind of work was reserved for specialists within the Department, but once and a while the Lord Protector liked to engage in it himself. Of course his "corrections" were approved on the spot, whereas usually these "corrections" would have to be "validated" by a sub-committee before going into print.

Suddenly a loud, thundering blast snapped Crofts out of the tedium flow of the day. Before he knew it ten military-wing Major-Generals were in the office. They surrounded the Lord Protector and escorted him out through a secret tunnel behind a painting on the office's eastward wall. Once the tunnel was secure again Crofts was able to separate himself from his bodyguards.
"What's happening?" the Lord Protector demanded.

"Sir" one of the Major-Generals responded, "a dirty bomb has just gone off in downtown New Beaconsfield. We're escorting you to the Crisis Room below the building."
A look of anger and sheer surprise came over Crofts' face.
"Yes, of course. Carry on."
-------------------------------------------------------
Crofts emerged into the Commonwealth's Crisis Room filled with Major-General, CSIS, police, and military higher-ups all trying to communicate with their men in the field.
Consul of Security Gerrard Howe sat at the head of the room's conference table, a mixed look of shock and defeat covering his face.
"Gerrard Howe, you are hereby relieved of the position of Consul of Security and are under arrest for performing a job involving national security with gross incompetence along with a pending charge of high treason" Crofts coldly said, confronting Howe.

"No sir...no, you're mistaken...NO!!!" Howe yelled as he was dragged away by two of the military wing Major-Generals.

"Sir!" Paul Cabot, head of the Major-Generals called out, "I've just received word from one of our security vans."
"And?"
"They picked up William Cahill and David Collins sir....they've confessed"

"Get me a link-up with Brigadier Johnson in Béal Feirste" Crofts demanded, emotion suddenly void of his voice.
The screen on the room's far wall lit up, finally revealing the face of Brigadier Michael Johnson of the Éiren Military Provincial Government.

"Sir, I just heard what happened. How may I assist you in helping the Commonwealth move through this tragedy?"
"You have already failed once" Crofts replied.
"David Collins and William Cahill were just arrested in New Beaconsfield. No official confession has been drawn up yet, but they have taken credit for the bomb. You let them get away Johnson...but no worries. I will give you a chance to redeem yourself. A chance to serve the Commonwealth with honour."
"Of course sir."
"I will appear on the emergency broadcast network, and inform the people of the Commonwealth what who was behind this crime. I will promise them vengeance. You will be the right hand of the Commonwealth, brigadier. You will carry out that vengeance.
You will have your soldiers in Éire systematically execute every Éiren male over the age of seventeen. Do this and you will serve as the perpetual Military Governor of Éire at the rank of Lieutenant General. Do you understand Brigadier Johnson?"
"Yes...yes sir, I do" Johnson responded in a shaky but decided manner.

"Long Live the Victorious Revolution brigadier."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution sir."
With that the screen went blank. Everyone was shocked, but they were smart enough to keep from showing it.
Sensing this Crofts went on, "This Commonwealth has endured Tory Unionists, Communists, and it will endure this. This string of terrorism ends now. Our rule will be absolute. Our authority complete."
-------------------------------------------------------
Emergency Broadcast Studio
Crofts sat at the thick, old, oak desk, identical to the one in his office. The backdrop showed the view of New Beaconsfield from his office's large window. Then entire set was made to emulate the Lord Protector's office.
"5....4....3....2....1....on air" the director singled to Crofts.

"People of the Commonwealth. I address you this day as steadfast as I have ever been.
Those who have committed this act of barbarianism have been apprehended. David Collins and William Cahill have detonated a dirty bomb in downtown New Beaconsfield.
Their hate for this Commonwealth, for freedom, liberty, order, and justice have cost hundreds, if not thousands of lives.
There are some who say this Commonwealth smells of smoke. It does, it does because we as a people, as a Commonwealth, have been through fire. We were forged in the fire of the Victorious Revolution. We survived the bloodshed of the Tory Unionists, the gun battles with the Communists, and the war with the ÉRA. Now those of that barbaric organization, their treasonous goals shattered, have taken the lives of innocent civilians. These are not the actions of men, but of animals.
Tonight this ends. Tonight the Commonwealth's baptism by fire comes to a close. Tonight I promise the citizens of this Commonwealth that vengeance will be swift. It will guarantee our Commonwealth's stability. Those who oppose liberty, bread, victory, equality, order, and justice will be scilenced forever. This Commonwealth will prevail as it has before.
Long Live the Victorious Revolution."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Gaulasia on March 18, 2007, 11:02:40 PM: (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/RDG2.png)
The following broadcast has been translated into Inglish for international audiences.

"This is Pierre-Luc Beytout, reporting for the Gaulasian Broadcasting Network. I'm reporting to you from the border of Gaulasia and the Inglo-Scotian province of Rolland.

What exactly has been going on inside the borders of our western neighbours is a mystery.
We know the terrorist group known as the Éiren Republican Army attempted to push the Inglo-Scotians out of their country by way of a frontal assault on Inglo-Scotian occupied Béal Feirste, and were slaughtered. We know that ÉRA leaders David Collins and William Cahill detonated a dirty bomb shortly afterwards in the Inglo-Scotian capital of New Beaconsfield. What has happened since has remained a mystery to those outside of the Commonwealth's borders, perhaps even to a majority of its own citizens.

Reports have been wide-spread by now; mass killings on the island of Éire perpetrated by the Commonwealth Army against the citizens of Éire, particularly the adult male population.
Our reporters and camera men were denied access into the province, and the Inglo-Scotian Departments of Foreign Affairs and Security deny all accusations of mass killings and deportations.
Yet the reports keep coming. The Commonwealth Navy has stepped up its patrols around Éire. Reports outside of Éire from Inglo-Scotia proper report large numbers of blacked-out buses coming from the docks in southern Ingla to the vast rural areas of Scotia, where armed patrols keep the civilian population from getting close to where ever these buses are heading.

It's also worth noting that Michael Johnson, the man who began his tenure as military governor of Éire as a Colonel is now a Lieutenant General. That is to say he's been promoted twice. He was promoted to the rank of Brigadier following his defeat of Collins' ÉRA forces. That is to be expected.
However the RDG has recently learned that he was promoted again to the rank of Lieutenant General. So far, at least officially, he hasn't done anything worth being promoted for a second time, leading many to feel his promotion was a result of an action the Commonwealth government has yet to disclose.

What is going on in Éire. Why was the province's military governor promoted without an official reason? Where in rural Scotia were these blacked-out buses taking unknown people to? And finally how ligament are these Éiren claims of slaughter?
I'm Pierre-Luc Beytout, reporting. Back to Jean-Michel Séguillon in the Lutetia studio.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Democratic States of America on March 22, 2007, 10:54:58 PM: Presidential Address to the world, Oval Office, Washington
"People of the world. My name is Elliot Frémont, the President of the Democratic States of America. I have appeared before you this evening with a plea. A plea in the name of humanity.
The accounts of atrocities coming from Éire can no longer be ignored, no longer dismissed as false or exaggerated claims. I call on the people of the civilized world to stand up to these crimes committed against humanity. I call for a united world front. We must demand a team of international inspectors access to the province of Éire as well as these 'secret' locations deep in the rural areas of northern Inglo-Scotia.
In the name of international peace human brotherhood I announce now that I move for the Democratic States Congress to vote for American trade sanctions against the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia. I hope and pray that the Congress will pass this motion in the name of humanity and justice. I know that once one nation takes a stand against Steven Crofts' criminal regime more nations will cast off the shackles of fear and join our voice in a voice of international unison."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Eluvatar on March 25, 2007, 06:34:40 PM: An encrypted transmission from the Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar to the government of the Democratic States of America:

Quote from: Presiding Steward Beregond ArFinn
Mister President.

The Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar is most disturbed by the genocidal activities taking place in Éire. We will not stand back and watch. If we, upon refusal of the Inglo-Scotians to cooperate, begin military action, can we expect assistance from the Democratic States?

In the very least we would hope for the ability to base our ships out of your ports. We hold hope however that the Democratic States have the will to support us more strongly in such an event.

I Presiding Steward Beregond ArFinn do declare this official correspondence of the Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar by the power granted to me in the Absence of the King, soon may he return.
(http://www.sipan.org/~peter/NationStates/Flags/Eluvatar-Seal.png)

An Ultimatum to Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia transmitted by public wavelength and announced to the press:

Quote from: Presiding Steward Beregond ArFinn
The Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar cannot in good faith tolerate genocide in any form. What we hear to be happening in Éire is genocide. We will not stand for this, not on our watch! Even if certain Éiren persons have engaged in terrible terrorist acts, that should not and cannot result in the mass slaughter of a people!

The Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia is given 48 hours /* OOC: until the next time you post :P */ to fulfill the following requirements or face the ire of the Royal Confederacy:
1. The Commonwealth will permit international observers into Éire, including Eluvataran ones.
2. The Commonwealth will agree to demilitarize Éire and withdraw from it should said international observers discover terrible atrocities.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Bustos on March 25, 2007, 09:54:00 PM: In the office of Chairperson Bustos

"What?! Another one?!" screamed the Chairperson after hearing about the dirty bomb that went off in Inglo-Scotia. "How many nuclear weapons does that make?! First Evermore, then Rya, and now Inglo." He slammed his palm face down on his desk before EA Director Jean Raneau. "These other nuclear powers are either using them without care or contain serious security issues in regard to their nuclear armaments. Can the EA do anything about this?"

"There was an agent among the rebels responsibile for the attack but, he never managed to penetrate their chain of command. His assignment was strictly for monitoring purposes. He was unaware they even had such a weapon. I should also add we haven't heard from him since the rebels were slaughtered at Béal Feirste. Our analysts conclude he was among those that died in the attack."

"We need a way to keep better tabs on nuclear armaments, governement controlled or not, in other nations. Otherwise we are all going to be living in an Ice Age at this rate. And I am assigning you to personally find a way to do so."

"Yes, Mr. Chairperson. And what of the DSA and Eluvatar in regards to their willingness to take open action against Inglo-Scotia?"

The Chairperson leaned back in his leather chair, "Let the garbage men take out the trash. We only need to concern ourselves with real threats."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 26, 2007, 04:02:24 AM: "I already confessed, just get this over with and shot me! AGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

"It doesn't work like that" a Major-General simply known as Ashton, responded, as the dial on the rack Collins was strapped to was turned up a notch.
"We are not in the business of making martyrs. It's not enough to be guilty, but to truly feel sorry for being guilty. Not sorry because of the consequences you will face, but sorry for your lack of loyalty to the Commonwealth.
As long as your mind still harbours the insane belief that what you did was right, you will remain here. So long as the heretic is still a heretic we do not shot him. It is because he is a heretic that he will continue to live, here, under our watch. Only when he repents, and is truly sorry for his crimes against the state, only then will he know forgiveness and relief."

Ashton nodded to a doctor who put Collins under with sleeping gas again.

-------------------------------------------------------
Office of the Lord Protector
Crofts looked across his desk at Consul Erik Destler of Foreign Affairs, and Consul Mark Anderson of War.
The Lord Protector picked up a transcript of Eluvatar's demands, reading it over.
"They're full of shit" he said, tossing the letter back to his desk.
"Eluvatar won't attack unless America attacks, and Frémont's to much a slave to public opinion polls to declare war."
"There is the possibly that Myroria or Gaulasia might join Eluvatar's call to arms" Destler informed Crofts.

"Consul Anderson, what type of military threat does Gaulasia pose to us?" Crofts asked his Consul of War.
"Minuscule at best" Anderson replied. "The Gaulasian military is to small and outdated in technological terms. We could push them into the sea if we wanted to."
"And Myroria?"
"The combined strength of Myroria and Eluvatar is the real threat here" Anderson answered.

"Even though" Destler injected, "Myroria has yet to make an official statement, the ties between Myrorian and Eluvatarian royalty would surly draw Myroria into any war Eluvatar decides to wage....especially considering you beheaded the second cousin of Fredrika I's first husband."

"Anderson" Crofts ordered, "I want you to put the military on high alert. I'll have Consul Wilkiek get out the message that the Commonwealth is under siege.
Destler, don't respond to the Eluvatarian resolution just yet. Lets see what Frémont and Peté do."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Democratic States of America on March 26, 2007, 04:47:30 PM: Quote from: Eluvatar on March 25, 2007, 06:34:40 PM
Quote from: Presiding Steward Beregond ArFinn
Mister President.

The Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar is most disturbed by the genocidal activities taking place in Éire. We will not stand back and watch. If we, upon refusal of the Inglo-Scotians to cooperate, begin military action, can we expect assistance from the Democratic States?

In the very least we would hope for the ability to base our ships out of your ports. We hold hope however that the Democratic States have the will to support us more strongly in such an event.

I Presiding Steward Beregond ArFinn do declare this official correspondence of the Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar by the power granted to me in the Absence of the King, soon may he return.
(http://www.sipan.org/~peter/NationStates/Flags/Eluvatar-Seal.png)
Frémont read over the transmission again. He had spent all night reading and re-reading it. What it was suggesting was a path he hadn't initially planned to pursue.
The door opened, allowing a wisk of fresh air into the oval office, as Paul Rae stepped inside.
"Is this worth going to war over?" Frémont asked, half to himself.
"I don't know Elliot" Rae responded.
"The people elected you to make that call, not me."

"All I did was ask for an international coalition for an investigation. This, this is suggesting war."
"A war we can win though" Rae replied quickly. "Myroria would more then likely join in, and the three of us can defeat Crofts. Especially if we get Gaulasia to join in. They would require Crofts to keep at least some of his army on his eastern border."

"You seem sure" Frémont responded, exhausted. "If we were to engage in a war like that then we would be the invaders. Crofts would have the tactical advantage, as well as the ability to drag the war on longer then the American people will tolerate it. Besides, I'm sure that liquored-up wind bag Frasier Pershing would hinder troop levels from the southern states."

"You're probably right about that" Rae said. "He's already moving for southerners to do everything they can to get around your sanctions on Inglo-Scotia. It's rumoured he'll have Erik Destler as a guest on his via satellite."

Suddenly the conversation was broken by the ringing of the phone.

"President Frémont" the president answered.
After a brief discussion of maybe thirty seconds in length, the president hung up the phone.

"Paul" he said, his spirits lifted, our prayers have been answered.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 28, 2007, 08:17:48 PM: Collins sat in the dentist-like chair, slumped down, barley awake, a signal bright light encompassing his field of vision.
For the past three days he had been removed from Ashton's watch. He had gone before small three-man committees for the past three days. These committees were made up of the intellectual wing of the Major-General organization.
They questioned him, sometimes for as long as 20 hours straight.
They didn't question him about his crime, the police and military had completed investigations that provided all the useful information on that.
They questioned him on an ideological level. The basis for an independent Éire, his opposition to the Commonwealth's founding principals, was he ever a member of the Communist party? If he opposed the Commonwealth was he a supporter of the old Empire?
At every turn in these discussions they would lay traps for him, lead him along, only to somehow prove all of his basic beliefs wrong. By the end of the three days he had been reduced to a sobbing mess; he signed off to whatever they put in front of him.
He signed off on secretly supporting the old Empire in Éire. He signed off on having diverted ÉRA funds to the Communist Party. He signed off on the murder of a series of high-ranking government officials.
It didn't matter if they were true confessions or not, that didn't matter, they decided what was truth.

Now he was there, in that chair, faced with a bright light. Agent Ashton came up along side him,
"David, are you sorry?"
"Yesss" Collins weeped, his mind reduced to ashes, the ability to think straight literally hurt.
"Please" he continued, sobbing, "please, kill me, before I even think about betraying the Commonwealth again!"
"In time David" Ashton continued.
"Your judgement will come soon enough."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Ranholn on March 28, 2007, 11:26:15 PM: From:Linia Caesar, Imortal Imperia
To: Croft

I request you look into your heart and stop your brutal campaigns and bring peace talks with the people who are trying for freedom. What are you goals by this, to force people with no love for you to follow you. It will never truly end, you will crush them once but they will rise up again. If you do not end this with peace and negotiation it will never end. I call to your humanity.

ooc: this was not sent by Currier, I never use human message carriers for government stuff.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 29, 2007, 11:57:57 PM: Trial of David Collins, nationally and internationally televised
"I supported Tory Unionist bombings of key Commonwealth facilities in Éire. I mislead the Éiren people. I preached independence to them when my ultimate goal was their subjugation under the return of the Empire.
I lead them astray from the freedoms of this Commonwealth so I could gain personal advancement in restored Imperial regime.
I funded the Communist party of Inglo-Scotia for the sole purpose of watching Commonwealth buildings and citizens crumble and die.
I directly or indirectly took part in the killing of several high-ranking government officials.
I was sexually aroused by the thought of the Commonwealth's destruction and the death of our revolutionary leader, Lord Protector Steven Crofts.
I was, and still am, sick in body and mind. I make no excuses for my actions or lack of faith in the Commonwealth's present and future, and only ask that I be put to death now, so that my life can end with my mind pure."
-------------------------------------------------------
Following the trial, two soldiers lead Collins out to the back of the Revolutionary Courthouse, where the black brick of the lower story was stained slightly red in some areas.
He stood facing the wall, his will to live snuffed out back at the Major-General detainment centre.
The sounds of the guns firing was muffled by the sound of a wheat supply train passing by.
As the soldiers in the firing squad returned to their normal detachments, two more soldiers came over, stuffing the body in a black sack and carrying it away. The two remaining men began scrubbing the fresh blood away.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Zimmerwald on March 30, 2007, 12:18:54 AM: Feng had gained this disposable cell phone as part of a gift basket from some random family in Xanadu. He had eaten the fruit, used up the stationary, but hadn't bothered to do anything with the phone. He'd had a proper cell phone for some time now, and as its reception and sound quality were far better than anything disposable, he had just put the disposable one aside and forgotten about it.

As he viewed Collins' trial, it became more and more obvious that it was a sham. Feng knew his business, and had tracked his money, and knew Collins wasn't giving to any Communist groups. Feng would have been happy if he was, but dispite his subtle urging, Collins had never done so. Of the other confessions, Feng knew nothing, but if one was false, the others might be false also.

After digging through a pile of papers, he finally managed to find the disposable phone. He flipped it open, and dialled. Making his voice more gutteral than it really was, he intoned the following message into the answering machine. He decided to gamble, hoping such a strategy would produce results.

"Stephan, you are a fool to think you can lie to people like this and get away with it. I know everything. I know you tortured Collins to produce false confessions, I know that trial was a sham, I know that you are a dangerous tyrant that must be disposed of. And I will spare no effort to dispose of you, as you have spared no effort to deprive my people of a great patriot. You will not hear from me again. You will see me once, then never again. Goodbye."

He quietly broke the phone in half, and shoved it unceremoneously into the hotel's incinerator.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria-Hanso Corporation on March 30, 2007, 01:08:14 AM: "I was sexually aroused by the thought of the Commonwealth's destruction and the death of our revolutionary leader, Lord Protector Steven Crofts."

"So was I." said Fredrika, switching the channel.

"Wait. Put it back there, hon."

"But Peté, The Old and the Restful is on!"

Peté just looked at Fredrika. She reluctantly switched it back to the trial.

"I was, and still am, sick in body and mind. I make no excuses for my actions or lack of faith in the Commonwealth's present and future, and only ask that I be put to death now, so that my life can end with my mind pure."

"Oh yes, it certainly is funny that every political enemy in Inglo-Scotia asks to be put to death, but torture is never used there. Certainly, Inglo-Scotians must be very moral." Fredrika remarked.

"Where's the phone?"

Fredrika took the antique phone off the end table and placed it in the middle of the couch. Peté picked it up and, after asking his butler for the phone number, dialed the office of Stephen Crofts.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on March 31, 2007, 02:27:49 AM: Council of State meeting, Parliament
The tape recorder clicked off as Peté I of Myroria's message ended. The eyes of all the consuls, as well as the Lord Protector started at the recorder, set down in the centre of the board table. All though their eyes were still very much concentrated, everyone eagerly awaited for someone to speak up.

"That fucking patty twit detonates a dirty bomb in our capital city's most populated neighbourhood, and not one nation offers assistance" Crofts said calmly, but angrily.
"The best we get is Frasier Pershing's condolences, but as much as we would like it, he doesn't have an independent Dixie, so it's an empty gesture.
Then we shoot the bastard who bombed us in the first place, like any half-sane state would do, and the fucking monarchists and commies send me this load of bullocks" he finished angrily.

"Perhaps they're angry about the camps we're re-locating the Éirens to" Timothy Fairfax, the new Consul of Security, said.
"They don't have any proof the camps exist. Their best piece of evidence is that news story the frogs ran a week ago, it's all circumstantial" Crofts responded.
"Regardless" Fairfax continued, "We should take these threats seriously."
"My fellow Consul's right" Mark Anderson, Consul of War, responded.
"Myroria, if they do anything, will opt for military action, which has the high possibility of bringing in the Eluvatarians and the Americans. A war we can handle. We have a large, well armed and trained military. We would be playing the defencive, so we hold that advantage. Still, one-on-three are never good odds."

"The Gallipoli-Chinese" Fairfax interjected, "would probably opt for an assassination attempt. Their Marxist ideology is enough to keep the Myrorians, Eluvatarians, and Americans at bay. They would be all alone, and they wouldn't attempt an attack on us alone. Also, judging by the nature of the Chinese message, an assassination seems likely. Simply speaking sir, I think we should move you and your family to the Victory Chamber under the tower, until this dies down. We would have armed Major-Generals* guarding you 24/7."

"As Deputy Chairman of the Council of State" Erik Destler, Consul of Foreign Affairs, said, "I would take over the symbolic role of opening and closing Parliament, as well as some of your more public roles until it's safer again."

Crofts sank back into his chair. Suddenly he stood up.
"Have my wife and daughter meet me in the bunker" he said, leaving the room, followed by an accompaniment of four armed Major-Generals*.

OOC:
*Just for the sake of clearing the Major-Generals up. They are not a military rank. The Major-Generals are the name for the Commonwealth's secret police. They're like the SS, Gestapo, and FBI rolled into one. They guard high ranking government officials, they act as the secret police arresting and torturing "enemies of the state," and they conduct police investigations that fall on the national level.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 01, 2007, 09:31:23 PM: Quote
Stephen Crofts,

I believe the time to stand back and get fed your story has passed. I demand my observers be allowed into Eire or we may intervene on their behalf.

Peté Tar-Ilium.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Zimmerwald on April 02, 2007, 12:02:01 AM: OOC: I'm going to IGNORE that comment about Marxist ideology. The State itself is bourgeois, and the government is still a parliamentary republic. And you can't be referring to the Democratic Socialist Party, because you have no proof that a member sent the message.

IC: Unlike the last wave of posters, everybody knew these were from the DSP's propaganda machine. They showed a small, white, man on the balcony of a white tower, surrounded by white guards holding white guns. The tower was surmounted by a crown. In the background were masses of grey individuals, looking downtrodden, and in the foreground, a few red fists obscured the faces of some of the guards. The caption read "Stephen Crofts knows he has to hide from his people."

Lin had been busy. She knew Feng had forged ties with the Eireans, and, much as she detested the deception of the dues-paying membership, she knew she could benefit by identifying Crofts with the Liberals and Nationalists,and the DSP with the Eireans. This, with the "Bustian Freedom" posters, were the core of what she would call her "foreign policy series."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Bustos on April 02, 2007, 01:40:07 AM: (http://www.geocities.com/cfbpeace03/EAEmblem.JPG)
In the Office of External Affairs

External Affairs Director Jean Raneau under direct orders from the Chairperson has handed over his Assistant Director the daily operations of the Office. Freeing his time to focus on developing a new section of the Office for intelligence gathering. The one main problem, of course, was not getting caught doing so. Freelance agents have been subcontracted in the past but only for low priority missions. Then there were the Ghosts.

Ghosts never failed a single mission however their programming only allowed for short term missions at best. Once completed they returned home for debriefing and reassignment. Not to mention the life expectancy of Ghosts were relatively short. Very few ever lived past 27 years old. How old is Kallisti now he wondered. He needed to devise a long term, self sustaining agency, separate from the Bustian government.

It would need several methods of income, a base of operations, experience and skills to infiltrate foreign nations, and most importantly, an exclusive, secret leadership with loyalties to Allied States. If only he could create such an organization...
________________________

Due to growing world interest in the happenings of Inglo-Scotia, The Board of the Allied States frequently discussed the situation within the nation. Chairperson Bustos always listened to the remarks made by The Board but, never commented himself. He remained quiet on the issue. He was not ready to make an offical stance as of yet. Not until Director Raneau came up with a solution to his nuclear concerns. BNN had ran several stories of their own and anyone with a satelite connection saw the bomber's confession live in Inglo-Scotian courts.

BNN has called for the Chairperson to hold a press conference regarding the dirty bomb in particular. Chairperson Bustos' unhappiness with the careless use of nuclear weapons had become known to the domestic press. There were also some concerns to whether the Allied States would support the growing international discontent with Inglo-Scotia. An offical public news release from The Board simply stated they were investigating the matter and discussing all possibilities regarding Inglo-Scotia.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Iadak on April 02, 2007, 01:00:00 PM: On a Merchant vessel southwest from Inglo-Scotia

Dire Vendecci Devone Parpaski woke up from the dark room he was in. There was some leaking on the roof. He had his arms around two naked women in his bed. Vendecci got up from bed without waking the women in his bed. While slipping on some pants and getting a shirt he was thinking about the situation in Inglo-Scotia. One of his concubines in the bed got up and walked to Vendecci when he was lighting a Zuavka Cigar.

"Oh Dire please come back into bed. You look tired."

Vendecci put on his sunglasses, took a puff of his cigar, and then smugged hot ashes on the girl's flesh, "Get some clothes on and shut up."

The young woman made a small cry when her skin made contact with the burning ash. Vendecci walked out of the room and she and the other woman put on some clothes.

Vendecci walked up the stairs to the bridge where the Captain of the ship was. He offered Captain Frez Dai Lon a Zuavka Cigar, he took one and lit it up with his golden lighter.

"Where are we?" asked Vendecci

"Southwest of Inglo-Scotia. We got the fish cargo on check."

Vendecci appreciated the Captains use of the code, he smiled and looked out in the sea, "How much time do we have until we reach shore?"

The Captain checked his maps and then said, "Give or take 3 days in clear weather."

"Good, I was starting to lose some patience."

"Where do you want me to dock?"

"Closest port to Eire. Remember this is a fish delivery. You make sure they don't see the actual Cargo."

The Captain stood straight and firmly said, "Yes Dire."

"Good, now I'll be downstairs if you need me," he walked out of the iron door and down the stairs where he met with some of the high ranking Mafia Soldiers in their Black trench coat uniform and Ushanka with the Mafia Symbol Insignia. The Dire took another puff of the sweet Zuavka smoke and then breathed it out.

One of the men joked, "The Concubine was Southern Ozian?"

Dire Vendecci gave some chuckles to the remark and replied, "Fre'zhi," the other soldiers laughed some more.

"You have the blessings of a good night and of the pai'hulu Dire."

"That was the plan."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 02, 2007, 02:38:17 PM: OOC: G-China, I understand what your saying. Crofts, and the Commonwealth government in general, generally refer to G-Chinese with the sweeping terms "communist" and "Marxist." Think of it as a mark of ignorance.

IC:
Press Room, Commonwealth Parliament
"Ladies and gentleman of the press" Tom Wilkiek, Consul of Public Relations began, "there have been concerns, both international and intra national, on the security of the Commonwealth's nuclear materials.
Rest assured that the Éire terrorist bombing was an isolated incident.
The Commonwealth Military has full control over its nuclear arsenal, and the various nuclear power plants are opperated under the tightest of security.

The New Beaconsfiled situation itself is steadily improving, with decontamination teams working around the clock in the affected areas.
Thank you for your time, and Long Live the Victorious Revolution."
-------------------------------------------------------
Crofts read over Peté Tar-Ilium's transmission.
"Erik" he said, talking into a red phone that connected to each of the Consuls' offices, "let the Myrorians send their inspectors into Éire."
"Pardon sir?" Destler responded.
"Let them in. They won't find anything, except the usual destruction that goes along with civil war. Nothing for them to write home about. The camps are far away from Éire, so what are they going to find that's extra-ordinary?"
"What about the lack of adult male Éiren?"
"Have General Johnson tell them that most of them were killed in the ÉRA's final assult and the general chaos that accured afterward. War's a terrible thing, sometimes civilians get caught in the middle."
"Yes sir" Destler responded.
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution Consul."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution sir."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 02, 2007, 07:59:35 PM: The first thing the observers noticed coming off their planes were the lack of adult males. Of course, anyone they asked replied with a "he died in the war" or "he died in a food rush". But that could only sustain so long. Every Éirean male died? Every one supported the revolution? Something didn't click. Councilman George Oswiecim was one of the observers. He was the only one with connections, namely to Great House Hanso, and, by proxy, his brother, Arnold Oswiecim. He approached a woman in black in a pub he visited. The usual answer to his question. "He died fighting that bas...Crofts." The brother took a wad of Kolonialreich marks with a strip saying "500" around them out of his jacket.

"So...what really happened to your husband?"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Iadak on April 03, 2007, 12:58:18 AM: The ship came into harbor and Vendecci asked the Captain, "Do they make us pay for docking?"

"Yeah, go downstairs, we have boxes filled with different currencies."

"Counterfeit?"

"I don't think so. Last time I came here they were fine which was about 3 months ago."

Vendecci and the Captain walked off the boat together on a roaped ramp down to the port where a dock man came over with a clip board. His hat had written on it, 'Victory Docking'.

"Hello there, we would like to dock our ship here for today, delivering fish to an office in (city near Eire)" said the Captain.

"Well ya got the amount of pounds for it chaps? 100 pounds per noight and 50 pounds ov'r dayloight. Ya got the bloody cash? Could ya speak a wee bit clearer I can hardly understand ya fresh off the skally talk."

"Well, we also need some Cargo trucks.... lad." awkwardly said the Dire

"Well laddy we got ya a Vict'ry Rental Cars right about the corner th're," the Inglo-Scotian spat to the side, "Marooners eh?"

The Dire was confused, "Marooner?"

The captain answered, "That's what they call Ozians."

"Oh," the Dire looked at the cash, "here's 100 for good service eh chap?"

"Ya damn marooners always got da bloody cash don't ya? No harm though chap," the dock worker patted his shoulder and a flight of dust came off his arm. The Dire brushed off the dust that went on his coat.

"How much for a truck?"

"How da bloody hell should I know? Go check them."

The Ozians walked over and rented their trucks. After unloading the fish and other packages of cargo they stuffed them into the trucks. Vendecci got into one of the vehicles and put the keys in the ignition. He turned the key but the truck wouldn't start. "I thought this was a victory car!"

The Ozian turned it and turned it until he smashed the front of the wheel with his fist and then it worked.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 04, 2007, 02:26:24 AM: Quote from: Myrorian Theocratic Imperium on April 02, 2007, 07:59:35 PM
The first thing the observers noticed coming off their planes were the lack of adult males. Of course, anyone they asked replied with a "he died in the war" or "he died in a food rush". But that could only sustain so long. Every Éirean male died? Every one supported the revolution? Something didn't click. Councilman George Oswiecim was one of the observers. He was the only one with connections, namely to Great House Hanso, and, by proxy, his brother, Arnold Oswiecim. He approached a woman in black in a pub he visited. The usual answer to his question. "He died fighting that bas...Crofts." The brother took a wad of Kolonialreich marks with a strip saying "500" around them out of his jacket.

"So...what really happened to your husband?"
"Well that depends, do you want to know what happened, or what happened" she replied, slightly motioning he head toward the pub's entrance where two Inglo-Scotian soldiers had entered.

-------------------------------------------------------
Quote from: Ozi Pol Pai Pas on April 03, 2007, 12:58:18 AM
The ship came into harbor and Vendecci asked the Captain, "Do they make us pay for docking?"

"Yeah, go downstairs, we have boxes filled with different currencies."

"Counterfeit?"

"I don't think so. Last time I came here they were fine which was about 3 months ago."

Vendecci and the Captain walked off the boat together on a roaped ramp down to the port where a dock man came over with a clip board. His hat had written on it, 'Victory Docking'.

"Hello there, we would like to dock our ship here for today, delivering fish to an office in Cork" said the Captain.

"Well ya got the amount of pounds for it chaps? 100 pounds per noight and 50 pounds ov'r dayloight. Ya got the bloody cash? Could ya speak a wee bit clearer I can hardly understand ya fresh off the skally talk."

"Well, we also need some Cargo trucks.... lad." awkwardly said the Dire

"Well laddy we got ya a Vict'ry Rental Cars right about the corner th're," the Inglo-Scotian spat to the side, "Marooners eh?"

The Dire was confused, "Marooner?"

The captain answered, "That's what they call Ozians."

"Oh," the Dire looked at the cash, "here's 100 for good service eh chap?"

"Ya damn marooners always got da bloody cash don't ya? No harm though chap," the dock worker patted his shoulder and a flight of dust came off his arm. The Dire brushed off the dust that went on his coat.

"How much for a truck?"

"How da bloody hell should I know? Go check them."

The Ozians walked over and rented their trucks. After unloading the fish and other packages of cargo they stuffed them into the trucks. Vendecci got into one of the vehicles and put the keys in the ignition. He turned the key but the truck wouldn't start. "I thought this was a victory car!"

The Ozian turned it and turned it until he smashed the front of the wheel with his fist and then it worked.

The truck came to a slow halt as they approached a road block, two Inglo-Scotian soldiers waving to them to slow them down.
A helmet-less soldier carrying a clip-board approached the vehicle, motioning them to roll down their windows.
"Sorry about this chap" the soldier said.
"Military occupation and all, just need to check your truck."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Eluvatar on April 04, 2007, 02:54:19 AM: OOC: Sorry about being a bit inactive here. Can I assume Eluvataran observers get let in too?
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 04, 2007, 03:15:44 AM: Quote from: Eluvatar on April 04, 2007, 02:54:19 AM
OOC: Sorry about being a bit inactive here. Can I assume Eluvataran observers get let in too?
OOC: Yep, but like the Myrorians they're restricted to the province of Éire.
(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/CISmapEcirc.png)
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Iadak on April 04, 2007, 03:39:17 AM: The Ozians got out of the truck and then opened the back. Smell of cold fish was smelt as it was packed in roof high with ice and fish.

"I understand," said the Dire, "Want a Zuavka Soldiers?" He pulled out two cigars and got out his lighter.

While waiting for his decision he said, "Could we make this quick we have a very impatient customer. He's an Ozian who moved here before the whole crisis who only wanted a summer home,"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 04, 2007, 07:55:29 PM: "Thanks mate" the soldier said, lighting up his cigar.
"Eh, everything seems in order, just sign here, and you'll be on your way."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria-Hanso Corporation on April 04, 2007, 09:16:15 PM: "Oh, well, what happened, I suppose. Mayhaps we should lower our voices." He glanced at the soldiers.

"Though that'd be no use if that's not really a painting above that fireplace."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Iadak on April 04, 2007, 11:10:33 PM: The Dire signed on the clip board, "Drion Habilov Cata"

The Ozians slid down the back and got back in the truck driving into town and going to their delivery stop.

They drove into a private manor where a man in traditional Ozian robes was coming out of the large manor. "Savus Savus, my friends." said the man.

"Hello dear friend Popi." said the Captain, "This is Dire Vendecci."

Dire Vendecci and Popi bowed and each said, "Priacci"

The two Ozians began to direct the trucks inside, "Is this house monitered?"

"No, only house in Eire. I got a special permit from the government, I don't exist while I stay here, I pay them respectively."

"Good, Unload the 'fish' boys and girls" said Vendecci.

With that said pouches of fish and ice were put into bags and other containers. As they cleared the packs of ice and fish wooden crates started to appear, "I assume the fish comes free Vendecci?"

"Of course,"

The crates were being dragged into the garage and then smashed open and yanked open with crows bars. Many assortments of I-19s, Ia-7s, and ISE-22s (Uzi) were passed back, they were cold but their mechanisms could survive harsher temperatures.

Tons of ammo boxes were open distributing them amongst the the rifle areas. When the large garages were closed and all the crates taken out the Captain and 4 of his crew headed back to the ship. Vendecci and Popi said good bye and then got to business.

"Show me everything you go."

"Will do."

The Ozians, including Vendecci's Soldiers came with him inside the house and then were lead to the sealed basement.

Downstairs was a large open room with a full arsenal and commanding operations base. "How did you get all this over here?" asked Vendecci.

"Fish..."

The two laughed.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: St Oz on April 05, 2007, 01:14:48 AM: The Ozians walked off the manor and started to head into town, "I know this perfect place for a good drink."

"I look forward to it. What are women like here ol' Popi?"

"Oh they're basically slaves, most of them wear anti-sex sashes though..."

"What!?"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria-Hanso Corporation on April 05, 2007, 01:28:32 AM: The observer looked at the mirror behind the bar. Ozians. He turned to the woman he was talking with.

"Excuse me."

He downed a shot of whiskey for good luck. Every encounter with an Ozian was like playing Russian Roulette. Reluctantly he got up and walked to them.

"Don't see many Ozians down here. You native?"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Iadak on April 05, 2007, 01:41:06 AM: "Aemefol dae oudneoul iecabaer Maejrorian."

"Aemefol?"

"Aemefol!"

The two Ozians laughed, "Take a seat Myrorian, We're not natives, I'm Popi, my friend Vendecci," He handed him a Zuavka, "Have a smoke with us," He lit it and gave it to him. The two Ozians got a smoke

Vendecci then said, "Hey pretty bar girl, one more Scotch for this fellow on my tab."

"On my tab you mean?"

"Oh it's not like its worth a Southern Ozian Dike Popi." The two Ozians laughed heartily and made themselves heard in the bar, "What brings you here Myrorian? Surprised you talked to us! Usually you chaps shit your pants when you see us."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria-Hanso Corporation on April 05, 2007, 01:49:16 AM: "Oh, I'm not sure I didn't. No, I kid." He lit up his Zuavka and lowered his voice.

"It's just that usually Ozians tend to be accompanied by I-19s. At least that's what they teach us back home. Who knows."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Iadak on April 05, 2007, 01:53:26 AM: Vendecci smiled, "Do they?"

Popi smiled too and looked at Vendecci, "We should show this guy what Ozia's like, would you like to know? The Southern Women of Ozia are a great match for you..."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 05, 2007, 04:14:28 PM: "I'll be sure to take a trip there." he said with a chuckle.

"Anyway, what I came to ask about is if I could buy an I-19. If you have them, of course. A handgun isn't exactly great protection."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Eluvatar on April 05, 2007, 07:59:42 PM: The Eluvataran Observers arrive...

There were a number of teams, but most of interest are Ælar Ëarondur and Ëardil Matanatar, EROB agents implanted into the corps. They walked the streets, visited markets and entered a factory, all the while becoming more and more worried in appearance. "Dinande olende manacarem mindubum?" asked Ælar. Ëardil answered, "Marwolusæbu."

OOC: Are they being followed?
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: St Oz on April 05, 2007, 08:52:55 PM: "You want an Iseltov friend? What makes you think we have any?" asked Popi.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 06, 2007, 12:28:21 AM: "Oh, stereotyping, like I said earlier. If you don't have any, I apologize for the inconvenience. But I saw a truck pull up through the window, and when two Ozians walk in, it's kind of natural for a Myrorian. Blame it on xenophobia." He said with a chuckle.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: St Oz on April 06, 2007, 12:53:32 AM: Popi patted him on the shoulder, "You know Myrori, you're not half bad, want to bunk at my manor instead of these horrible inns?"

Vendecci laughed and said, "Yeah we can show ya the secrets of the Ozian trade."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 06, 2007, 12:56:48 AM: "Ok," he said after a pause.

"That'd be nice."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: St Oz on April 06, 2007, 02:12:52 AM: The two Ozians got up from their seats. Vendecci smugged his blunt on the disk and left the money and tip on the table. They began to walk back to the house as they talked to the Myrorian, "So Myrorian, where did you live in Myroria? South or North?"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 06, 2007, 07:40:18 PM: "South. Far south. Very cold down there."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: St Oz on April 06, 2007, 07:53:49 PM: "You mean the Lumberjack area? You ever watch Ozian Television? They had a comedy about a Myrorian Lumberjack and he was ok!"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 06, 2007, 10:24:10 PM: "There are a couple of lumberjacks where I live, but not many. If it was any colder where I live, it'd be a typical Ozian summer." he said jokingly.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: St Oz on April 07, 2007, 04:13:03 AM: The two Ozians however didn't find it amusing. They made an awkward silence and plain face as the Myrorian realized what was going on and he started to die down his laughter the Myrorian started to cringe as he thought they were going to kill him. Vendecci said, "Oh you think we're going to kill you now!? Maybe later!"

The Myrorian grew wide eyed.

Popi and Vendecci started laughing even louder as they got to the gate of the manor. Popi said as he unlocked the gate, "Myroria you're a load of something."

Vendecci laughed, "You know we kidding."

They stepped into the manor and then Popi locked the gate again.

"You know this is the only Manor or in Eire that isn't monitored?" mentioned Popi.

Out of the door came two young Ozian women. The Southern Ozian from the boat and the other Ozian woman that was with him. They were both wearing Silk Ozian Robes with their hair tied back.

Vendecci muttered, "oh shit..."

"Hey Vendi you know you missed me!" yelled the southern Ozian woman.

"Hey, did you meet our new friend Myroria? He's a Myrorian, go figure."

"You mean like a lumberjack?"

"Yeah exactly Lucy. A lumberjack. Say why don't you get to know him upstairs, I don't think he'd mind, would he?" Vendecci smiled with the expression that said, 'if you say no I'll fong ya.'

Popi went ahead into his house, "Good luck," and

Then Lucy ran to the Myrorian, "I've never done Laejagi with a Myrorian!"

"It'll just be like those Pai'hulu at home Lucy," Vendecci then walked to the other Ozian woman and they went to the garden that Popi had.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 07, 2007, 02:28:40 PM: "So far" Lt. General Johnson said, "they haven't caused to much trouble." He was of course referring to the Myrorian and Eluvatarian observers.
"Good" Timothy Fairfax responded over the hotline.
"I'm stepping up Major-General operations, just to keep tabs on them. What about your soldiers?"

"No order has been given" Johnson continued, "but some individuals have taken it upon themselves to make sure the foreigners don't probe to deeply into the internal security matters of the Commonwealth."

"Excellent. Still, I want you to make it clear not to start shooting. Let the royals collect their reports and go home."
"Understood sir."

"Long Live the Victorious Revolution General."
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution Consul."

Johnson hung up the phone, taking an other sip of scotch.
The doors to the Parliament chamber opened and a single soldier handed the general a blank envelope.
Once the soldier left the general tore it open, revealing two stacks of bills, one Ozian, the other Commonwealth pounds.
"Popi" he said to himself, "you're to good to me."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 08, 2007, 02:10:01 PM: "I don't think he's coming back" one Councilman said to a Layman*.

"Perhaps we should go find another woman to ask, sire?"

"Yes. Preferably in another pub. There's too many soldiers in here."

OOC: Those are just two ranks of Great House Hanso. The ranks in full are:

Hireling
Retainer
Oathman
Layman
Kinsman
Cousin
Brother
Father
Councilman
Archmaster.

The rest of the Great Houses have similar ranks.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 12, 2007, 03:30:09 AM: Office of the Lord Protector
Consul of Foreign Affairs Destler sat in a chair opposite the desk of Stephen Crofts, the Lord Protector himself sitting in front of a large window overlooking New Beaconsfield, 77mm of bullet-proof glass keeping an assassin's bullet out.

Crofts fingered through a stack of papers on his desk until he came across a piece of paper with the Myrorian Catholic Church's letterhead.
"It says here they consider Christians, Jews, and Muslims holy, but Buddhists, Hindus, and Gaeanists are heretics" the Lord Protector said, after briefly scanning the sheet.

"And?" Destler asked.
"Well it doesn't say anything about Deists. Am I going to heaven or hell?"
"Purgatory maybe" Destler said in a joking manner. "Then again," he continued, "you did end the persecution of Catholics here, maybe they'll let you in for good behaviour."

"Exactly" Crofts said.
"Have this letter sent to the Pope.
Long Live the Victorious Revolution Consul."

"Long Live the Victorious Revolution sir" Destler responded, taking the sealed letter.

-------------------------------------------------------
A lone Inglo-Scotian soldier entered the Vatican's embassy in New Beaconsfield, carrying the sealed letter handed to him by Consul Destler.
"This letter, by the request of Lord Protector Crofts" he said to the clerk at the front desk, "needs to reach his holiness the Pope as soon as possible."

Quote
Your Holiness,
It's been five years since we've last spoken. All though I have wanted to contact you to renew the positive relationship between the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia and the Mother Church I am slightly disappointed in myself that the first time I reach out to you in half a decade is due to my own selfish needs. Yet these needs cannot be ignored, so I ask for your forgiveness if my request seems presumptuous due to our lack of contact these many years.
As you are probably aware, things in the Commonwealth are not well. We are still working 24 hour days to repair the damage done to our capital city's downtown district by the rebel David Collins.
I am aware the Church has a stance against the death penalty, but alas it is part of our legal code, and Collins' crime against the people of this Commonwealth was paramount to that punishment under our legal code.
Yet the earthly sovereign of the nation the Church is located in has decided to send observers to the Commonwealth, to poke and prod at the Commonwealth's internal affairs. I ask you as a friend of the Church and its followers I am asking you to have the Church to officially condemn the actions of the ÉRA, its leaders, and its followers.

Thank you for your time,
Stephen Crofts, Commander in Chief of the Commonwealth Armed Forces, Chairman of the Council of State, Member of the Commonwealth Parliament from Cambrington, and Lord Protector of the Commonwealth and its People
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 12, 2007, 08:56:08 PM: Quote
Stephen Crofts,

The Church, in fact, does support the death penalty for criminals. We do not, however, support the (alleged) torture you used against David Collins. The Church, seeing this bipolar mix of dirty warfare and (alleged) torture, has officially taken the stance of supporting neither side directly. I have made several speeches in Myroria and Ryazania decrying both sides of the civil war you fight, and I am afraid I can make no public statement until one side shows it is less honourable than the other. Either Éireland (as it is known in Myroria) or Inglo-Scotia will have to resort to true horrible acts for us to make a statement. Mayhaps we will communicate again.

His Holiness, The Bishop of Pelagis.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 15, 2007, 03:14:21 AM: Quote
Your Holiness,
I understand your predicament. As a staunch supporter of the separation of church and state (Leave what is Kaiser's to Kaiser and what is the Lord's to the Lord), so I accept your decision and will not push the matter. I look forward to seeing you again.
I would just like make it a point that I'm doing what I can to bring order to my country.

Take care and stay well,
Lord Protector Stephen Crofts
-------------------------------------------------------
Trenches just outside of Plymouth, 2000, Inglo-Scotian Civil War (aka "The Victorious Revolution)
Sergeant Alexander Will of the Parliamentary Army ducked as an Imperial shell exploded two trenches behind him. He didn't need to look to know about the carnage that now consumed the soldiers that were unlucky enough to serve as the shell's welcoming committee.
"Fire back you cowards!" he yelled to the Parliamentary gunmen still ducking for cover.
Pulling his Galil close to his chest, he jumped out of the trench, and keeping close to the ground he quickly rolling into the next one.
It was truly a depressing sight. Nothing but thick, grey smoke in any direction. Bullets flew through the air like killer bees determined to suck the life out of you. The trenches were worse. The smell, sight, and wetness of mud just added to the misery. Even the black uniforms of the Parliamentarians were very noticeably dirty.

"Everyone here?" Will yelled over the commotion.
After a quick look around the privates under his command all gave him a general nod of agreement.
"Good. Now lets show these Imperial cunts how it's done!" he yelled, leading the charge out of the trench, his young men following him.
The only indicator that you were getting closer was the faint sight of the red, blue, and white Imperial jack, calmly fluttering in the wind, as if somehow oblivious to the chaos that surrounded it.
The next thing Will knew he was face to face with green-uniformed Imperial soldiers, shooting them point blank. Suddenly his foot slipped on a piece of broken artillery and he on his ass. Just as he was about to get up a green-uniformed body fell into his lap. The boy, he couldn't be more then 18, looked up into Will's eyes, his eyes becoming vacant as death claimed the boy's soul.

Suddenly Will snapped back to 2007. He was no longer a sergeant in the Parliamentary Army. In fact the army he fought in wasn't even called by that name anymore. After Parliament had won the war in 2002 they changed the name to the Commonwealth Army.
Alexander Will was now a colonel in the Major-Generals. The MGs were in charge of running the Relocation Camps the Commonwealth set up in the north of Scotia following the civil war. Will had been given command of the Kieth Hill camp, 50 km north of Perth.
The camps were reserved for political prisoners, and as many as there was never enough of them that they put a strain on the camp's resources.
Now though, with the recent Éire business, it was more then just political prisoners who were arriving at the camps. Almost every adult male Éiren who hadn't been killed in the initial onslaught was being sent north.

There wasn't enough of a population increase to cause an overflowing of the camps, but the camps were getting crowded.
Will knew that with the population as it was something would have to be done if the normal arrival of regular political prisoners was going to continue uninterrupted.
They couldn't just wait for the Éiren men to die, only a few of them were old enough. Most were between 18 and 55 and were generally health. They would be put to work, no doubt, but that didn't solve the population crisis. Besides, having this many able-bodied men under lock and key was just a recipe for disaster.
"Population reduction measures." The term shot through his mind. It was a nice way of saying prisoners, the Éirens no doubt, would have to be killed so the camp could continue to take its normal influx of political prisoners.
"It would probably make sense to take out the young ones first, the 18-35 year olds" he thought to himself as he leaned back in his desk chair, looking over a roster of the camp's inhabitants.
"Kill off the young ones and take the muscle out of any plans for a revolt" he continued in his head.

"Colonel" a voice squawked over the intercom, "you have a call from HQ."
Will picked up the phone, "Colonel Will speaking."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 18, 2007, 01:08:52 PM: Quote
To: Empeurer Peté Tar-Ilium I of Myroria
Prime Minister Steward Beregond ArFinn of the Royal Confederacy of Eluvatar
From: Lord Protector Stephen Crofts of the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia

It has been weeks since I allowed your inspectors access to Éire. While I appreciate the concern both your nations have for the safety and well being of Commonwealth citizens, I have to request that your inspectors wrap up any investigations that might be currently undertaking.
The Commonwealth has been been through a lot these past months, and with the damage to New Beaconsfield almost decontaminated we have decided that the time for healing and moving forward has come. We can not do that as a nation with foreign inspectors still on our soil. They will be granted a week and a half to finish up any ongoing investigations, then I must insist that they leave.
Again, thank you both for your concern, but the Commonwealth is ready to move forward.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Eluvatar on April 18, 2007, 11:01:34 PM: OOC: Sorry I've been busy with stuff. I'll try to get back ASAP to do the RP I had planned <_<
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 20, 2007, 03:41:47 AM: "Well, this is the last chance we get. We've gotta catch a flight in...two hours. Got the money ready? Good." Oswiecim's brother had become quite liking of Zuavka since his visit with the Ozians. He had one in his mouth as he sat at the bar, scanning the room for soldiers. He turned to the woman next to him. She looked Eirish (Myrorians are notorious for deteriorating or outright changing nation's names in their country).

"Hey. I'm George. Can I, uh, buy you a drink?"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 23, 2007, 12:31:34 AM: Quote from: Myrorian Theocratic Empereum on April 20, 2007, 03:41:47 AM
"Well, this is the last chance we get. We've gotta catch a flight in...two hours. Got the money ready? Good." Oswiecim's brother had become quite liking of Zuavka since his visit with the Ozians. He had one in his mouth as he sat at the bar, scanning the room for soldiers. He turned to the woman next to him. She looked Eirish (Myrorians are notorious for deteriorating or outright changing nation's names in their country).

"Hey. I'm George. Can I, uh, buy you a drink?"
The woman shot him a look of confused curiosity back.
"Don't see the harm" she replied. She then turned her attention to the bartender, who looked no older then 17.
"Two pints" she said, placing the order.

"So" she said, looking at George, "I take it your not from around here....sorry I can't place your accent."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 23, 2007, 12:32:52 AM: "I'm Myrorian. I came here on...vacation."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 23, 2007, 12:36:37 AM: "I knew that" she said, "sounded familiar, but we don't get many foreigners around here other then the Ozians."
"You may want to fire your travel agent" she continued, "this isn't exactly the best place for holiday."
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 23, 2007, 12:47:09 AM: "Ha-ha. So...uh, what happened to all the men around here? They all died supporting the...'crisis'?"
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Prydania on April 23, 2007, 12:57:28 AM: "Well," she said, leaning into him in an attempt to muffle the conversation from undercover Major-Generals or informers, "I can't speak for myself, because as far as I'm concerned the story the government's tellin' is true. My husband was an ÉRA member, and as far 'as I know he died with the rest of 'em.
But..." she went on, lowering her voice, "I do know that after Collie blew half of New Beaconsfield to hell I couldn't sleep one night due to commotion outside. I looked out the window and saw some of Crofts' goosesteppin' hooligans loading a long line of men into buses. No women, no kids, just the men.
I can't tell you what happened anywhere else, but that's what I saw."
She finished up her story with a gulp of beer. Depending on who, if anyone, was listing, that could be the last beer she would ever had, and if that was case she was going to enjoy it.
Title: Re: The Éire Crisis
Post by: Myroria on April 25, 2007, 12:27:13 AM: "Thank you, ma'am." George got up, slid a 100 mark bill to her, and left to board his plane.