Taijitu World Building > Pre-Modern Era Fiction

Protectors of the Common People (1940-?)

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bigbaldben:
"General August, there's a call for you.  The Presidium."  An aide no older than twenty stood at attention.

The silver-haired General looked up from the table he was standing over, surrounded by several lower ranked individuals.  The make-up of the group was clear even to those who had no knowledge of the military paraphernalia of the Republic of Megatridimensional Order.  The General leaned on the table with his hands spread wide, while the others stood straight, almost at attention.  As he looked up from the maps spread neatly on the table, he nodded to the aide, then furrowed his brow. "For God's sake, gentlemen, at ease!" he said, addressing the officers. "That's an order.  If you guys can't relax now, I have serious concerns about your mental well-being," he said, half-joking.  The officers smile uneasily, but only one or two let their shoulders slip before the General was out of the room.

In the comm room, the General picked up the radio.  "General August here."  The speakers crackled with static, and the General hoped that this would not be another instance of watching the aide fiddle with knobs and buttons, spending hours for a minute-long message.  Thankfully, the speakers jumped to life with a relatively clear voice.  He almost immediately regretted hoping for the clear connection.

"This is Artra Banks of the Presidium," the speakers squawked. "First, congratulations on your victory over the Pax.  I have been told the resistance is broken and your troops are in complete control of the area."  The defeat of the Pax enabled the Order to expand their western boundary and gave them access to the valuable minerals in the Pax Mountains.

"Yes, Mr. Banks," said the General.  "The Assimilation Teams are already here and most will have assumed command by the end of the week." "Perfect.  Will your troops be ready to move at that time?"  The General paused before responding.  He didn't like where this conversation was headed.  Just answer the question, he told himself; no more, no less.

"We will be ready to move in less than 24 hours after the last Team has taken over."

"Excellent.  The Prime Minister will be demanding that Ogbuni & Funkadelia cease labor rights violations and turn over mineral and ore industries to us temporarily for restructuring. We want you to lead the Army north to the Ogbuni border, prepare for an assault, and await further instructions."

The General paused again.  The war against the Pax hadn't been particularly difficult, but most of his men and women had been in the field over a year and were very much looking forward to returning home.  There had been some chatter that the Army would continue west into Comdantri Nortellus territory, which would certainly be in keeping with the Order's expansion.

If that had happened, General August would have expected some bitching, but had no doubt the patriotic duty of his troops would take over and they would, as they always had, get the job done.  But to march his troops and tanks and artillery north and take on an established nation after more than a year of fighting the guerilla tactics of the Pax was a completely different story.  To say nothing of why leadership felt the need to poke Funkadelia if Ogbuni was the immediate prize.

"Mr. Banks," he said finally.  "With respect, I would strongly advise against another military operation so soon after the..."

"General, I am confident that you know your own troops better than anyone," Banks interrupted.  "But I am equally confident that the might of our Army is up to the task.  In addition, the MPsych has agreed to send a regiment of Order Guard to assist you in the preparations.  They will be at your disposal."
Fantastic, thought the General.  The Order Guard and the Armed Forces had a strained relationship, to say the least.  Fighting was guaranteed even in the best situations.   But the Order Guard would chafe taking orders from him and his Army would be in a foul mood from the extended orders.  Not only would there be blood, there would likely be death.  He would have to solve that problem later, but it would probably be easier than the one staring him in the face.

"Thank you, Mr. Banks," said the General.  "I am humbled by the Presidium's faith in our troops.  I would be lax in my duties as force commander and as an officer charged with the safety and welfare of the troops, however, if I did not alert you to the danger of new orders immediately following our war with the Pax.  Morale will be low..."
"General," snapped Banks. "Consider your duties with regard to these orders complete and noted."  Banks paused.  "Listen, Thom," he said, softening his tone.  "I've known you for a long time, and I know your loyalty to both your country and your troops.  That means I know enough to listen.  But our position is completely intractable.  The Presidium, The Prime Minister, MPsych - there's no stopping this.  In fact, the demands are being transmitted to Ogbuni and Funkadelia as we speak.  I know normally you would have been consulted before this decision was made, but the Prime Minister...well...."

The General did not soften, and remained stoic.  "Very well, Mr. Banks. We will move out as soon as the last Assimilation team is operational."

"Thank you General, and Thank the Order."

"Thank the Order."

August handed the receiver to the aide, left the comm room and headed back, deep in thought.  He wasn't angry.  Though he had every right to be, he didn't have time.  He needed to figure out how to announce the orders with a minimal hit to morale, figure out a way to utilize the Order Guard while minimizing their contact with his soldiers, and, oh yeah, devise a battle plan to invade a country whose military structure he hadn't studied in years.  He prided himself on being a master at what to delegate and what to handle himself, and there was no bigger challenge to that pride than this.

"At ease," he said, resuming his position at the head of the table.  "Let's finish up these withdrawal plans.  I hate to break the news this way, but we'll have a long night ahead of us once we're done."

--------------------------------------------------

NOTE: Executive Order 67 attached.

Solclquial:
[Presidential Conference with High Command]
[Madaigdigan Capitol Building]
[26 September 1940]


[Elevator doors open. President Johnbong enters with armed aides. All staff present stand and bow.]

[His Excellency, Pres. Johnbong:] Good afternoon, gentlemen.

[Commandant of the Air Forces, Com. Sutil:] Mr. President.

[Commandant of the Naval Forces, Lt. Com. Hortencia:] Maayong hapon, Mr. President.

[Commandant of the Armed Forces, Com. Pulbos:] Greetings, sir.

[Commandant of Special Operations, Maj. Roberto:] Good afternoon, Mr. President.

[All attendants are seated. Wine is forthcoming, and all lights are dimmed as Com. Pulbos powers on the film projector. First clip: an image of the Mangsulong Logo is projected onto the whiteboard in front.]

[CP:] With the blessing of President Marcos, I've contacted you all to discuss the intelligence Agila Team had found during their operation in ███████████. AN1 says that the documents were recovered inside the enemy's High Command vault. He's not sure it's one hundred percent solid, but...

[Next clip is shown. Aerial view. A town square, not Filipino. There is a significant military parade in progress. Ten armored divisions are visible, along with several supporting infantry marching in position. Letonnian decals are clearly visible. Of note is the presence of an unidentified rocket launching platform vehicle at center.]

[CP:] It seems that Letonna has been showing off some power lately. Those are heavy MBTs they're flexing around. I'd like to get a scan on that rocket vehicle, too. I estimate it as medium-range artillery, something we don't have.

[CP:] Here's another.

[Next clip is shown. Still aerial view. A factory and warehouse. Tens of hundreds of armored vehicles and crates are seen below, being shipped off by lifts into cargo carriers. There are anti-air platforms in development. At the horizon, several choppers can be seen en route to the factory. Letonnian emblems are present, with unidentified banners barely visible at warehouse interior.]

[Close-up on clip: a man, late 40's. Letonnian military uniform. The man is seen rallying hundreds of soldiers at the factory's open area. Soldiers test equipment: mortars; tanks; ranger cars. Used artillery shells and blast marks seen outside compound.]

[CP:] There's one more thing I have to show.

[Next clip is shown. Filipino air field. Filipino military showing eight armored divisions, six cavalry divisions and thousands of soldiers. Marcosanon flag is at center. Air supplies are being lifted by cargo planes. Several top-secret supplies are seen. High-value officers also photographed.]

[CP:] They have photos of us.

[All attendants exchange concerns silently, as President Marcos is handed notes from his secretary.]

[CP:] These photos appear to have been taken from an enemy spy plane... but I'm not sure what Resdaynia is doing spying on its neighbor. There is more enemy intelligence we'e retrieved that indicates Resdaynia has also been spying on the Order.
 
[All take in the Commander's words.]

[CP:] And if Resdaynia is having renewed interest in its neighbors...

[LCH:] Wait, hold on... you're not saying we start preparing for war, right?

[CP:] We are.

[Next clip is shown. ]

[CP:] President Marcos?

[Presidential aides tear open sealed document packets and hand it to the President. The President takes a glance at them, signing his name and affixing the seal. He returns the documents to his aide and turns to face Com. Pulbos.]

[PM:] As of 1939, our country has been spending 32% of the national budget. Putting it to work funding our bases, building our army. Our armed forces have become a benchmark to the region, and our hardware is state-of-the-art. There is more than 30 billion pesos being spent on you right now.

[CS:] Then why do we still have a cavalry division, Mr. President?

[All attendants pause and turn to Com. Sutil.]

[CS:] We still have horses, they have tanks. Our carrier is still halfway done. The enrichment programs haven't given output for days. Rural areas don't even have rifles for their national guard. And you call us... modernized? Understand that I've been checking into the audits lately...

[LCH:] Commander Sutil...

[PM:] I think we've agreed to talk that in exchange for luxuries this audit will not be attended to. Now stand down. I've promised that 86% of the "missing" funds will be returned soon, out of the goodness of my heart, gentlemen. War is a threat. If my father taught me one thing...

[Presidential aide opens briefcase with 1,000,000 pesos.]

[CS:] Sir.

[PM:] I put aside everything for the good of Filipino victory. Even if it means bribing my officials so that my citizens stay content with where they are. For the good of the future, after all.

[PM:] We shouldn't be discussing the finer points of my government here. Rest assured, all of our assets will be activated in two months. Your carrier, Mr. Hortencia, will be done in one. The air fields will be stocked with oil and plenty of munitions. I just ask everyone to keep their mouths shut, lest we face an interior conflict during this war.

Do I make myself clear?

[CS:] Yes sir.

[PM:] Well then, what are our plans? I don't expect that this war will take another decade. Projections show that we'll be in peak capacity in four, five years. We need something to even the playing field. Any suggestions?

[CP:] Ah, yes. I'm glad you asked.

[CP:] Gentlemen, I'd like to give the floor to Major Roberto.

[The Major passes a folder to the desk. "FOR HIGH COMMAND ONLY. PANAGO"]

Myroria:
Sedera's Residence
Pelagis, Myroria

Fendryn slid a large ashtray across the coffee table towards him and placed his cigar in one of its rests. He sat in an armchair facing a sizable sofa on which three men were sprawled in.

"Their land grabs have been worrying me," he said. "I don't think they'll be satisfied with Ogbuni." Fendryn sniffed and rested his bearded chin on his fist.

"Ogbuni will fold within a month," said the man sitting on the left edge of the sofa. Folvys Quarrovth - the Leader of the Majority in the Council of Great Houses. He served with distinction on Fendryn's staff during the Great War and steadily rose through the ranks of his House as Fendryn began his grasp for the throne. By the time of Fendryn's election in 1930, Folvys' role as the eyes and ears of the king on the Council was assured.

"But I don't think they'll cross over into Funkadelia. The Presidium's demands are just to scare them - make them less likely to speak up about the MO on their border."

Fendryn scratched his chin.

"I have to agree with Serjo Quarrovth, Your Majesty." said the man sitting on the right of the sofa. "Ogbuni is what they're after. They want a Cefnor port - they'll get that from Ogbuni and be satisfied." Venidasi Surishpeth - during the Great War, he served in Section 6, Human Intelligence with distinction and transitioned smoothly to the Foreign Ministry. Now, he was the Undersecretary and already being invited to meetings in the Minister's place.

The man in the middle of the sofa stayed quiet, as he always did.

"Well, Mallam? What do you think?"

Mallam Indaritrith was the Minister of Defense. During the Great War, he served as general commander of the All-House Army until Nelvil II replaced him with Fendryn. After Fendryn's highly-publicized win against the Ozians in 1909, the quietly successful efforts of Mallam were forgotten in the eyes of everyone but his successor. When Fendryn took the throne in 1930, Mallam was his first choice.

"I disagree."

Folvys and Vendasi looked at Mallam in unison.

"Ogbuni won't fall in a month, it will fall in three weeks. And they will roll into Funkadelia high on their own success."

"They couldn't control that much land even if they wanted to!" Venidasi exclaimed. "They would have to be blind to attempt an invasion of Funkadelia."

"Blinded by their own ambition," Mallam said.

"You don't give Ogbuni enough credit, Mallam." Folvys said. "They will give the Megatrine a run for their money. Enough to halt their advance into Funkadelia."

Fendryn picked his cigar up and puffed on it, rotating it to correct an uneven burn. Mallam did not respond to Folvys.

"What do your contacts in Section 6 think, Venidasi?" Fendryn said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

Venidasi turned his attention from Mallam to the king. "I, uh, I haven't heard anything from them about the MO's plans."

"Well, reach out to them. See if our Ozian contacts have heard anything from STIA."

Venidasi nodded. "Will do, Your Majesty."

"Mallam, Folvys, gather what information you can and wait for more instructions. If the MO will really plow through Ogbuni I want to tell the Navy to heighten its alertness. We'll see if Funkadelia can withstand what the Order throws at it - and if they put up a fight we might have to weigh in somehow."

The room was silent for a moment. No one dared to broach the subject of military action, no matter how restrained. Now that the word "war" was hanging over the room, the men gathered seemed solemn. Fendryn puffed on his cigar a few times before a knock on the office door broke the silence.

"Come in, come in!"

The door opened silently and two men filed in, one much older than the other. The older one was the Royal Chamberlain, Odairan Assurnirith. Nearing 65 now, he was a man steeped in tradition. Over the left arm of his suit was a white patch, about eight inches wide and running laterally from one side of his arm to the other. It was a representation of the symbol of the Chamberlain's office, the white towel.

During the symbolism-packed coronation of a new king, the Royal Chamberlain would hold a towel over his arm and shave the edges of the Sedera's beard. When there was a queen, of course, the Chamberlain would do the same thing and the assembled group would do their best not to chuckle. For years the Chamberlain had served as the Sedera's chief-of-staff and closest advisor.

Odairan insisted on wearing the white patch on his suit every day, even if his last two predecessors had done away with the old tradition. In his left hand he carried a folder.

Behind the Chamberlain was his Deputy, a man in his late 30s with a mat of black hair sitting on his head, graying at the temples. He cared little for tradition, as evidenced by the casual ivory-colored blazer he wore. The Deputy had been following the Chamberlain to his meetings for the past few months. Everyone in the Residence knew this meant Odairan would be retiring soon.

"Hello Odairan!," Fendryn exclaimed. The ministers on the sofa across from him still looked like they were contemplating the "w" word.

"Your Majesty," the Chamberlain replied.

"Gothren," Fendryn said, nodding to the Deputy.

"Your Majesty,"

"What do you two have for me today?"

"We recieved this report from Section 4's Director," Odairan said. He handed the folder to Fendryn, who flopped it open in his lap. Seeing that his cigar was about to ash on the pictures laid out in front of him, he quickly leaned forward to tap them into his ashtray.

The words "SECTION 4 IMAGE INTELLIGENCE" were emblazoned across the top of each photo. They appeared to be from spy planes, and showed various images of Filipino airfields and drydocks.

"Section 4 captured these images following flights from their base in Resdaynia. It looks like Marcos is building up his forces. For what, I can't imagine."

Fendryn was silent. He looked at his ministers, who were appearing especially uncomfortable now.

"Thank you, Odairan." Fendryn said, not breaking eye contact with his ministers.

Aquatoria:
The Halls of the Consensus

Serjo Aleksandr Terynovoth took a seat when he was offered by Primav Alayne Serontov, the prominent voice in the People's Council, the highest power within the Silver Republic of Keras. The Primav's adjutant took Aleksandr's maroon trench coat. He straightened his grey naval uniform. "Thank you for the invite, Primav. How may I serve the Silver Republic?" He noticed the icy glare of another aging man in maroon, Fieldmaster Savafid Kallarov, an Ozian Kerasan and the supreme commander of the Silver Republic's army and another man wearing an Ozian military uniform. Aleksandr didn't recognize him.

Alayne Serontov was middle-aged and gave off an aura of strength, not easily intimidated. Her black hair was offset with a sliver of grey. "You are welcome, Fleetmaster." She took her seat behind the mahogany desk. "I called you here to discuss the status of the navy."

Aleksandr pulled out a folder from his briefcase. "The Republic's naval forces are doing well. We have finished the construction of the third Iudekizh-class coastal defense ships. They will be the strongest of their kind in the world. Some circles are dubbing them "pocket battleships" The treaty of protection with Ozia has been hard to get around but we have built quite a powerful navy."

Alayne closed the folder. "Will they be able to defend the city in case of invasion?"

The Fleetmaster knew the answer but feared giving the Primav the truth. The revolutionary fervor that overtook Keras after its liberation from Eluvatar during its last war with Ozia has resulted in many of the old guard forcibly retired or simply liquidated by the new Gaeanist leadership. Many of those of non-Ozian descent have been replaced by loyal Gaeanists. Aleksandr only survived because of his Ozian descent from his mother's side also being the head of a Great House and the supreme commander of the navy. Though his appearance said Myrorian, his eyes gave away his Ozian heritage, the so-called "enlightened eyes". He chose to tell the truth. "While the navy can put up a hell of a fight, the Admiralty know that in truth we cannot hold back a true invasion of the island. We can however be used to raid commerce and attack isolated pockets of ships. We are better served as a hit and run force. Against the larger naval forces, commerce raiding and ambushes are our best weapon."

Savafid snorted. "So my army will not see any help from the navy? Of course we won't. True Ozians will defend the Silver Republic while the mongrels in the navy will flee in sight of the enemy."

Aleksandr never liked Savafid. While Aleksandr allowed all citizens no matter their descent to serve in the navy, Savafid chose to only use those of Ozian birth. It was rumored that he didn't even follow the orders of the People's Council but was in truth was in the employ of the Ozian government itself. Aleksandr only shook his head. "I wouldn't say that. While the surface and submarine fleets will deal with choking the enemies of the Silver Republic, in the event of an invasion, the Gaeanist Army of Enlightened Fortune will have my marines and the coastal batteries as well as the naval aerial forces to aid them. Trust me Fieldmaster, the navy will stand with you." Savafid could only gruff. Alek turned back to Alayne. "We are not in risk of invasion though, are we Primav?"

She shook her head. "No, we are protected by Ozia and our stance of neutrality in all conflicts that go against our interests has made us safe. We are however beset by a large minority separatist faction led by the Eternal Flame's Path. They are our strongest opposition in the Consensus. I fear they will rally the moderates to their side and our dream of a Keras united with Ozia will die. I want to know where the navy's loyalty's lie."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Alayne was calling out the navy's loyalty. "We are loyal to the People's Council, the Consensus and Keras. We will do as the people decide for us."

Alayne nodded. "I was afraid of that answer. As of this moment Aleksandr Terynovoth, you are removed of command of the navy and are demoted to Shipmaster of the Fleet of Thoughtful Graces."

Alek held his composure and noticed that the Primav didn't use his title of Serjo. "And who is the man to replace me as Fleetmaster?"

The Primav nodded to the Ozian man in the corner of the room. He stood. "I am Suviart Iseltov, recently transferred from the Ozian fleets."

"This man cannot command the navy. He is a foreigner. A foreigner cannot command Kerasan forces."

Alayne stood from her chair. "Careful Shipmaster. The word foreigner and outlander have different meanings in the Silver Republic then it did once before. Now report to your battle group. Dismissed Shipmaster." Aleksandr took his trench coat and marched out of the room. He couldn't believe it. Is this what the rebellion bought them?

Bustos:
The Chairperson sat down to read his paper with his customary breakfast of steak and eggs with homefries.  He couldn't help noticing the bold headlines of this morning's The Valorium Chronicle as he reached for his black coffee.

Megatridimensional Order Delivers Ultimatum to Ogbuni and Funkadelia
Hmm.  Need to contact the Office of Resources.  I foresee an increased demand for munitions, medical supplies, and oil.  Oh look.  The Royals won 12-1 last night.

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