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Author Topic: Political Turmoil in Annexea  (Read 1140 times)

Offline Anniane

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Political Turmoil in Annexea
« on: February 14, 2007, 02:40:02 AM »
(OOC: This begins a story leading up to a sort of elections in Annexea. After the background is set up, other nations are free to jump in, to a reasonable amount.)

Newly appointed Coordinator, and former Domestic Commerce Director, Joseph Bradley strode casually along the crowded sidewalk of a road in Barat, walking from his office to another down the street - the Bureau of Importation Of Food Products. stared straight ahead with practiced indifference, ignoring the homeless beggars and the hidden security detail that he knew was following him. It was a routine meeting, something about bolstering the Imitation Crab industry, but however mundane it was, it was an opportunity to leave the bureaucratic hell of his office and breathe some outside air.

   How fitting that to get around in this place, one must descend into a black pit, he thought to himself as he entered the subway station. An intrepid man, most likely too high to recognize Bradley (not that anyone did, anyway), offered him some drug whose kind was obscured by the man's mumbling. Bradley shooed the man off, put the 5 junket fee into the machine, and stepped through the gates. Even the Coordinator had to pay like everyone else. The subway ride was uneventful - only the usual hallucinators shivering in corner seats, a few botched muggings - until Bradley went to leave the station.

   Pushing his way through the abnormally large throng of people, Bradley found the source of the commotion. There was a large sign hanging in front of the gates, and on the machines to their right and left, and in a few places on the ceiling, too. It read "Subway Exit Fee: 10 junkets."

   "Hey, you got 10 junkets to spare, sir? I'm stuck now." A frail bearded man asked, gesturing at the sign Bradley was pondering.

   "No, no I don't," replied Bradley distantly, swearing silently to himself.

Shaking his head vigorously, he - with the help of his guards - found his way through the crowd, grudging payed the 10 junkets, and ran (more walked angrily - with a lifetime desk job, running was never Bradley's forté) into the Domestic Commerce office, which, fortunately, was near his original destination. He silently thanked the building's designers for making it so nondescript. No mobs, no fires... it isn't hopeless yet.

Well, thought Bradley as he entered the familiar building. Back to my old office... I should've never left. Damnit, what the hell are they doing?

Offline Anniane

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Re: Political Turmoil in Annexea
« Reply #1 on: February 15, 2007, 02:24:10 AM »

In The Domestic Commerce Bureau, Director's Office

Howard Jones sat at his desk in the crowded Domestic Commerce Office, drafting a legalese-ridden amendment to the subway bill. The new subway exit fees were an excellent idea, but there were several small issues that needed to be resolved.

It is necessary to know what legal overlap exists between APL-11345, the ATS Code, Section J, and the RLM Oversight Law. Report must be completed before 5:30 today.

Jones sent the eMail - shorter than he was used to writing - to several of his subordinates. It almost seemed silly to communicate electronically to people in the same room, but a bureaucracy had to be managed with formality.

"Mr Jones, Coordinator Bradley is here to see you in the conference room," came the voice of Jones' secretary through the small speaker on his desk. "He would like to discuss with you the Subway Exit Fee law."



Mr. Jones entered the conference room with a deliberate air of annoyance, as if he were interrupted from some important business. Bradley was sitting at the head of the table, alone, looking furious - and a little winded. Jones sat two seats away from  Bradley, folding his hands in mock seriousness on the table.

"Welcome, Mr. Bradley. It would have been prudent if you had scheduled an appointment, our office is quite busy right now," he said coldly. As former Vice-Director of Domestic Commerce under Bradley, Jones knew him quite well - in fact, it had been their connections that had gotten him the job in the first place - but political differences had created a sharp rivalries between them, especially now that Jones had a promotion.

"I am rather busy as well," replied Bradley. "Let me be blunt... why have you instated Subway exit fees? It's an idiotic plan."

"Well, it's rather simple, isn't it? The subways need more revenue, but studies has shown that we can't just raise the prices... people are much more willing to go on the subway if they pay two small fees instead of one large one."

"But you've caused rioting down there! Worse, there's probably thousands of people who are now stranded in the subway."

"Ah, but that is also part of the plan. It's a whole new force of street advertisers."

"Oh no," Bradley shook his head.

"Oh yes. Companies are already excited about the new growth this will cause. And think how much better will it be to have a homeless man hand you a New Cherry-Lime Coke than say, beg for cocaine?"  Bradley hoped to detect some cynicism or irony hidden in Jones' intonation, but to his dismay, the argument seemed to sound sincere.

"But did you really need to cause all this chaos for that? There's plenty of "street advertisers" around to do that."

"But not in the subways. Too dark, dismal. WIth this new law, the subways are like new low-income housing," Jones smiled evilly. How did he become Coordinator... he's acting like Ectoplasm is a bad thing.

"This is an awful idea. Even if it will make it slightly easier for advertisers to hire homeless people, that won't outweigh the many, very obvious pitfalls of the program - It doesn't have any public support-"

"Oh, I'm sure that people will accept this rather Ectoplasmic plan," said Jones, putting emphasis on the word and watching Bradley cringe slightly. He was good at noticing that, after years of working with Bradley.

"There's rioting in the streets," said Bradley leadenly.

"That will subside, once people get used to it."

"The whole subway industry will lose money. People will lose faith in public transportation. The subways will become more of a cesspool than they are now, which is terrifying. Ectoplasm is all well and good, but this is going too far."

"It sounds like you have quite a bit to say about this matter," began out Jones nastily. "It's a pity you aren't a part of this Department."

Bradley stared hatefully at Jones. Ungrateful bastard. But the bastard's right. He was silent for the moment, unable to find a counter-argument to this inevitable point - it wasn't his jurisdiction. "Well, I had hoped that you could listen to some reason, but if that is not possible, then I will go." Jones watched with some amusement as Bradley stormed out of the room. I am so glad that I recommended him for that promotion... he thought, enjoying the power of his new position.

Offline Anniane

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Re: Political Turmoil in Annexea
« Reply #2 on: February 20, 2007, 05:08:48 PM »
As he made his way back to the Coordinator's Office (reluctantly, on the subway), Joseph Bradley considered what course of action he might take against this law. It was clearly not stupid enough to be struck down by a review board, and public lobbying would do no good if it had the support of the subway industry. That left only one possible solution - death by bureaucratic procedure.

What powers do I actually have? thought Bradley gloomily. The man sitting next to him on the train giggled and smiled, showing a set of rotting teeth, then fell over. A businessman who had been standing uncomfortably nearby shoved aside of others and claimed the seat, glancing indifferently and Bradley, then opening his newspaper. Nothing. I'm not even a figurehead for the country. Nobody knows who I am. I'm just some kind of bureaucratic placeholder. He tried to avoid sinking into bitterness - the Coordinator did have some power, even if it seemed otherwise. Well, what can I do? I can prune redundant and contradictory laws, sign important contracts (although the Diplomatic Coordination Council can do that, too), I can "facilitate communication between committees." So... I suppose I could control "communication between committees". Perhaps there is something I can do...



Somewhere in the Interzone Bureaucratic Offices...

Quote
ABR-134-223:
   An Amendment to The Bureau Of Transportation Budget, subsection Urban Subways, to append additional Conditions of Aid to existing formula for Government Funding in order to promote diversification of revenue.

(I) ABR-BOT-US-CA-43 (Reasonable Fees), is amended to read:

   43a-2: Within the scope of section 43, A Fee is defined to be a sum of money paid by a customer in order to receive, in the near future, or in concurrent exchange for a service of the relevant industry.
   ...
   43b-2: Action taken by the subway to downsize or otherwise limit its stream of revenue from customers or others in situ as a response to new regulations where the opportunity to retain such revenue is present will be construed as an act of independence as defined in 43a-5.
   ...
   43c: No authorized government subsidy aid will be granted to any subway that does not apply all of the following regulations of fees and payments:
   ...
   43c-3: Fees shall constitute no more than 50% of revenue obtained from customers in situ as defined in 43a-1b.
   43c-4: Fees must be publicly declared to the customer before the customer is bound by contract or other law to pay said fee.
   ...
   43d-2: Any form of in situ revenue, excluding relevant fees, that would dissuade customers from purchasing the primary service of the industry may not, unless otherwise directed, be overtly declared.

(II) The changes written in (I) shall be placed into effect 1 month after the passing of this law, and will remain in effect until specifically annulled or revised

Undersecretary for Law Revision Martin Adams stared critically at the regulation in the corner of his screen while making routine edits to a small business aid law. Normally this consideration would be attended to after it became first in the queue of work, but Coordinator Bradley himself had marked it - unofficially - as important. Bradley had personally sent him a letter instructing him to "determine what existing or future laws may mitigate the effects of this one." Even in private communications, there was some degree of bureaucratic obfuscation - privacy was never certain. Adams knew from experience (having worked with Bradley's trade legislation as Vice-Chair of the Legal Language Committee) what this meant - Bradley wanted the law killed. The task was set by the Coordinator, but the method of reglicide (as bureaucrats with no sense of humor like Adams often called it) was left to the subordinate.

And now, the fun begins. Adams set to work  analyzing precedent, loopholes, and obscure bureaucratic technicalities. In particular, he was searching for a way to utilize the Coordinator's "discretion" on which bills are considered redundant.



Freeland - at Freeport

Gen. Saad Ibrahim stood proudly on the deck of the newly constructed battleship FOR "Miasma". It was uncertain what the R in "FOR" stood for (as opposed to "Ectoplasm" in FOE [Fleet of Ectoplasm], the Freeland navy's western counterpart), as officially, the acronym had been constructed without determining its represented words. Ibrahim liked to think of it as Reclamation (reclaiming the nearby lands that have fallen out of Ectoplasm), while others, more into the cynical "Rear", referencing this division's location opposite the more vast Bay of Ectoplasm and Maw ("If the Maw is the front end, then what are we?" became the question of the Freeland Navy, answered in all manner of colorful ways).

Around Ibrahim were various military officials, including a beaming Commander George White, the commander of the Freeland Navy to his right, and Alan Arnold, the new Captain of the Miasma. staring at the gleaming metal vessel like an excited child. He stood behind a podium in a space built specifically for military speeches (this was the new flagship, after all). Ibrahim cleared his throat in front of the microphone, and as the amplified growlings spread across the deck, the crowd of navy officers, soldiers, technicians, and reporters fell obediently silent.

   "Army and Navy, and People of Annexea," announced Ibrahim into the microphone, his voice becoming a forceful bellow in the air. "We are gathered here today aboard our new flagship, the FOR Miasma." The audience cheered loudly for a few seconds, then silenced as Ibrahim continued. "The creation of this ship, which has been constructed by the finest engineers and outfitted with the newest technology, signifies the beginning of a new era in Annexea. Now we shall claim the seas as our own, and as is our mandate, spread the taint of Ectoplasm to all the corners of the world!
   "And not only will we spread our message of corruption, but we must also defend our homeland against those who would seek to destroy us! We must not wither under the critical eyes of outsiders, or allow ourselves to become slaves in the global economy! Annexea must stand strong against all who encroach upon our power." Ibrahim pronounced the last word with great emphasis, producing loud applause from the audience. "For this reason it is necessary for Annexea to continue to expand its military, so that we may have the resources to accomplish our goals!"
   Ibrahim shuffled the papers on his podium. "This ship that we stand upon, the FOR Miasma," Capt. Arnold shivered with delight as he heard the name, "represents a triumph of the Annexean military. It has taken 3 years of negotiation to obtain the funding necessary for this vessel. Our hope is that this success will help to convince our friends in goverment," he stifled a sneer, settling with a tightening of his usual scowl, "of the necessity of increased funding. It is excellent that we have a flagship for our eastern navy, but what of the rest of the fleet? Many of our ships are old, obsolete, in need of expensive repairs that our stretched budget cannot accommodate. We have been given the money for this, our national symbol, and we have been given the money for impressive uniforms, but we have been given little more. It has been a victory to achieve a military the looks good, but now we need to create a military that fights good." There were a few suppressed winces among the cheers, as there always were when speechwriters made questionable decisions.
   Ibrahim forced a smile, something he did on the rare occasions that his PR people demanded it. "But enough politics! For now, let us celebrate this occasion. And now, it is time for the maiden voyage of the FOR Miasma!" With that, after more obligatory applause, most of the audience left the ship, and the crew moved to their stations to prepare the ship for its first launch.