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Once again Marc was stuck looking enviously at those safely on board an evacuation ship. The steamer began to move slowly away – but it seemed it was too late as the tripod in the canal was soon joined by another two, and soon they all began wading through the water towards the main congregation of ships; either smashing or spraying with black smoke any ship that was along their path. Between them lay a lone warship from what Marc could see. He squinted and he recognized it from it's size and low freeboard as the U.S.S.S. Thunderchild, a relic from another naval era that had once made headlines. With a deafening roar and whoosh of spray, it swung about and drove at full speed towards the waiting Martians.
The sky was totally gray, rain clouds cover all the light of the sun, the imperial soldiers were making concerned faces, some even reach the desperation, the newspaper title was all it needed to make this situation "The Serdians fall back, refugees will arrive soon" this notice made even harder the work of the officers, they needed to keep the morale high if not the army will just retreat at the first attack.
By the Imperial order, more and more men got enrolled into the military and march to the newest defensive positions, all kind of weaponry was placed, "may one of this weapons can bet the Martians" was the main thought begin this act, complex
undergrounds fortifications connected all the defensive positions, this hard work was made mostly by the scum of the empire, prisoners, political activist, deserters.
The enormous industries of the nation got into work at full capacity, with double turn for all the workers, no complaint can be made, no production can be stopped, the imperial military backup this order, even if blood must be spared, those enormous industries poop out vast war machines, enormous piece of artillery and all anti air guns types of calibers.
The Meincertang high command plan at least hold the first wave of the Martian attack, with the power of the army and the glory of the emperor.
The soldier holds one of the coins up to the light, inspecting it, before muttering to himself "Tha hell am I s'pposed to do with this?!"
The foreign coin has no value here and is, at best, a souvenir.
Before the courier has a chance to leave, the soldier who escorted him interrupts, stating he's not going anywhere on his own. The soldier makes it clear that he has orders to bring him here, deliver his message, and drive him back to the checkpoint. The soldier does just that, with or without the consent of the courier.
The courier is promptly driven back to the checkpoint, and the officer signs the checkpoint log book again, as the courier goes through the gates, and leaves the country.
One of the guards take a moment to knock on the door and remind Loira that there is a fully stocked bar down in the lobby.
In the following morning, at 11:00, the Dáil convenes in State Hall to discuss the pending legislation.
With all parties present, the Ceann Comhairle, and starts the assembly with the prayer.
After the prayer, he moves onto announcing the legislation vote results.
A couple of failed and passed legislations later, he comes around to the proposal to recognise Egoia is a sovereign land.
He announces that the vote has passed, with most of the TD's, baring a few isolationist extremists, voting in favour of recognising Egoia as a sovereign land.
The assembly finishes at 15:00, and Loira is summoned to the Taoiseach office, at the Caisleán.
The gardaí escort her, and is allowed entry into the officer as soon as she arrives.
As she enters the room, O'Valera greets here.
"I have good news. The Dáil has voted in favour of recognising Egoia's independence. I will be making an official statement in an hour or so, and it will also be on the headlines in our newspapers. As I said before though, if you want military protection, you'll need to gather proof on Pradonia's intent on genocide and its active militarization. The Dáil also requests that Egoia conducts some... information gathering on one of Egoia's neighbouring countries. Wielbelkia. I've heard what happened last night. A life dear to you was taken. You have my sympathy. The Dáil wants to know how politically united the country is. We know there is a socialist or communist party or organization there. A socialist organisation in a monarchical country? In our experience, that breeds instability and then, revolution. Look at Irithylle, for proof of that. It is our belief that Wielbelkia could be... persuaded to adopt socialist policies, and depose the foot of the monarch. If you can, we'd like information on this organization, and what the Wielbelkian people think of their current government, what changes to the government and their daily lives they want, and how open they are to socialism. What do you say? I know with your system, you have no official leader, but I'm sure you have some amount of influence."
Dear residents, please participate in our latest poll!
With rising trouble out off the Eastern coast of Serdia in the gulf of Terramunya raising concern and especially after the harrowing capture of the Serdian-flagged and Czestowalskalia crewed tramp steamer S.S. Errant Venture that resulted in the deaths of many civilian sailors and left the Serd and CFR public outraged and calling for revenge, and subsequently the Serdian and Czestowalsklian Navies would prepare for joint counter-piracy operations though rather than one large scale campaign the Navy would instead test the waters by first sending out a small task group, this force consisting of one armored cruiser as leader: The U.S.S.S. Falmouth (CA-20) followed by a pair of destroyers, the U.S.S.S. Heisenberg (DD-188) and the U.S.S.S. Marvin Hart (DD-184) and finally the recently constructed and commissioned submarine U.S.S.S. Kathadin (SS-05).
The task group would set sail from Gloucester Naval Yard in northern Grenada to mild fanfare with the Falmouth's captain and overall commander (A Mister Otto F. Blanc) of what has come to be dubbed Task Force Zed ordering all four ships fly the Serdian Navy's iconic ensign as the force sailed out, the sunny blue sky and the calm seas of the Serdian East Coast greeting the task group as they steamed away from visible land and onwards to first meet their allies and then to continue on with their mission.
"So... What actually is our mission captain?" An Executive officer quietly asked to Captain Otto from the bridge of the Falmouth. "Our purpose?... well for the most part we're simply to go into the Terramunyan Gulf and to rendezvous with the Czestowalsklian task group, afterwards we're to go in and eliminate any pirate forces we encounter and if possible to capture any crewmen from their ranks, hopefully we'll get clues or intell about their staging bases, fleet sizes and operating procedures." Captain Otto said as he turned his head to look at the XO who replied simply. "Well... that was certainly more simple than I anticipated."
Wielbelkia and Czestowalskalia
Not too far from the Serdian side of the convoy, the rest of the Čestowałskalian Federal Navy's flotilla steamed alongside their allied counterparts as they approached their destination off the coast of the Terramunyan Gulf where reports of pirate attacks had originated from. Led by the protected cruiser ČFNL Masaryk, the fleet dubbed Task Force Jestřáb further consisted of the three destroyers ČFNL Vítězství, ČFNL Svoboda, and ČFNL Ostrava as they spread out in a formation with two of the destroyers protecting the port and starboard flanks of the cruiser and the third destroyer protecting the rear in case of unexpected attacks from behind. Not to be outdone by their Serdian counterparts, each of the ships flew the colors and banners of the ČFN proudly as they moved alongside their allies.
Although the mission seemed routine enough, the men on each of the ships, regardless of whether they were officers on the bridge or lowly sailors, were rather grim-faced as they did their respective duties around the ship, with many not forgetting the not-so-distant past where many of the men had dealt with pirates, thought not entirely from the water, but more from raiding bands from their erstwhile enemy now turned reluctant ally Arvugian Khanate. As a result of this along with the recent attacks on their countrymen by their pirate adversaries, the men were hardened from their previous experiences to the point where all of the Marines stationed on the vessels were armed to the teeth with their rifles and machine guns, ready to take on any potential boarding parties from the pirates, while many of the sailors prepared makeshift weapons in case their defenses further failed. Amidst the colorful banners of the ČFN flying amidst the ships, a sailor on the lead cruiser went up to the highest point on the ship to raise their last flag: a white Čestian eagle striking the cracked skull and crossbones on a black background. This was the dreadful symbol of the Black Orel, symbolizing the fact that the pirate crews were now kill on sight for the sailors onboard the ships; no prisoners would be taken.
On the Masaryk's bridge, Captain Tomaś Veselý stood near the control panel and sailor by the steering wheel in front of him as he looked into his telescope. The bay seemed empty for now as the waters moved around his ship, rocking it slightly back and forth. Although the captain normally lived up to the meaning of his last name, his normally cheerful demeanor had given way to a more grim and serious realization that his men were preparing to take on their first pirate threat in nearly a decade. He looked down at his orders on the desk in front of him: a probing mission to gather intel and eliminate as many of the pirates responsible for the raids as possible. The captain sighed as he watched his crew prepare before the inevitable before turning to his communications officer and saying, "Send a message to the Serdian captain: we're about twenty clicks of the targeted area now. Awaiting further orders." The communications officer nodded as he radioed over the message to their allies, awaiting their response.
As the convoy trudges along a lone periscope pops out of the water spins around getting a good idea of the fleet composition before quickly going under again. A board sailor or two may see this as some sort of sea creature.
After a while a ship would strike something that violently explodes crippling it. It seems they stumbled into a sea mine field.
Meanwhile in a nearby hidden cove a large force of pirates gather and prepare for a daring convoy raid. They'd wait for thier scouts to return with the numbers.
Loria abstains from the drinking and merely waits for the Dáil's decision. Upon being Summoned her attire would be different. Her usual dark colored robes would be brighter, a lavender with teal accents and a raven skull necklace around her neck.
"Aye we have met them." She clutches her pendant, "The socialists there did a paper on me and Joseph Night had been sent there to acquire more information them... he didn't return home." She looks off into space for a moment before snapping back in, "Apologies... he was dear to me. I'm sure you have heard the news that one of diplomats have been killed in Wielbelkia? Our people won't declare a war, I can't say that some people won't exact vigilante justice either. I can send agents in the form of cultists to try and integrate and meet up with various socialist groups. They are a very radical communist organization and they seem somewhat interested in your nation or building an alliance. Less so with us, our ways are too wild to them it seems. We shall send materials from their party to you when I return home if you prefer. Speaking of which I should be returning home sooner than I had originally intended, I need to prepare the funeral rites for Joseph. Alongside the personal tragedy, it's a bigger tragedy for the science of aviation. He was the one that made our Turboprop engines. His apprentice, Gertrude was the only one who maybe knows as much about Aviation and his theories and she's being held by the wielbelkian government. Nonetheless we have high hopes that our peoples shall further grow into a brighter future dedicated to upholding civil rights for all."
"Of course, of course. Once again, you have my sympathy. I do hope you've enjoyed your time in Irithylle and achieved what you hoped, despite of the loss of your loved one. You will be escorted back to the checkpoint. If you can forward us information on them, that'd be great, but we're also interested on what the common Wielbelkian man wants. As soon as we know this, we'll get in contact with them. I'm sure they'll appreciate a few dozen shipments of rifles and ammunition.
Anyway, I'm sure you're eager to get back to Egoia, with planning the funeral and getting your engineer back."
O'Valera stands up and shakes Loira's hand, as he finishes the meeting.
"If you need anything in the future, be sure to tell me."
As he goes to sit back down, he suddenly remembers
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot..." reaching into his draw, he pulls out a sealed envelope, with the governmental seal on it, and hands it to Loira.
"Inside this is a envelope is a statement, which identifies the holder as the official envoy of the sovereign land of Egoia to the Socialist Republic of Irithylle. The envoy is permitted to bring his or her own vehicle, personal items and any medication they may need. They may also have no more than 20 people to work in the embassy, including armed guards. Those guards may be armed with weaponry such as rifles and submachine guns, however, explosives are not permitted. These embassy employees may also bring any personal items and medication they may need. Additional vehicles may be brought to transport these employees. Apartments will be afforded by the Irithyllic state to house up to 20 employees, and will be situated right next to the embassy. The embassy will be a renovated old 2 story house, but I'm sure your people aren't fussy over it, demanding a 4 story marble building or something ridiculous of the likes. Embassy workers will also be allowed to roam Iríthyra City, but are advised to stay in the same district as the embassy. If there's nothing else, I believe our business is concluded. Please make sure your ambassador gets that envelope. It doesn't matter what border checkpoint or what time they arrive at, all checkpoints will be put on notice."
Back in canon land.
"And you just STOOD THERE as he slit his own throat!?"
Well this was going better than Parmentier expected, which wasn't saying much. Prince Einfrieren von Aegir was currently glowering at him while two royal guards stood passively in the background.
"Your Imperial Highness-"
"Don't interrupt me!" Einfrieren shouted, still fuming. "Not only will this affect our country's reputation but more importantly it will affect mine. Already I had to deal with that fool pushing the south too far, I don't need this hanging over me as well in this crucial time." He looked ready to continue ranting but stopped, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I'll deal with you later, for now I have to do damage control." As Parmentier left, Einfrieren pondered how was he going to spin this; hopefully before anyone else hears of it. Naturally that's when the door was slammed open and an irate Frigide stepped in.
---[Earlier]---
"He did what!?"
"I'm afraid so your Imperial Highness." Nikolai replied, unfazed by Frigide's reaction to the news. Frigide took a deep breath to compose herself.
"Yaldabaoth, I expected him to mess this up which is why I didn't stop him but I didn't expect him to do it so badly one of them dies." she said, sounding more irritated now. "Is she unscathed at least?"
"Physically? Yes. Mentally? Time will tell."
"Argh, for now make sure her guards are actually trustworthy. I need to have a word with my brother." she said before storming out.
------
"Care to explain just what happened dear brother?" she spat, looking down at him due to their height disparity. Einfrieren kept a composed façade, though internally he was weighing whether or not to have Parmentier thrown in front of a firing squad.
"The anarchist chose death over becoming our guest, simple as that." he replied. She merely scowled in response.
"Oh? I'm supposed to believe he just decided to slit his own throat just like that and that it wasn't your usual heavy handed approach that caused it?" Now it was his turn to scowl.
"Believe what you want dear sister, it doesn't change the facts. Regardless we still have the assistant and I'll be sure to take extra precautions this time." He made to but was interrupted by her again.
"You won't be doing anything brother, not if I can help it. I've already arranged to take jurisdiction over this matter in light of your mishandling of it." She added the barest hints of smugness to those last words. With that done, she left. She could have sworn she heard some nasty words behind the closed door but paid them no heed. As Nikolai rejoined her, she thought back to both their "guests". There was something familiar about the girl.
"Nikolai, find out more about this Gertrude; there's something familiar about her. Make sure to have someone check the Doctor's person for anything that might shed light on that before sending his remains back with their air crew." It's about the bare minimum they could do but better than throwing him away like her brother no doubt would.
((Landlocked gang wins again haha))
Maria Square, Iríthyra City, 17:00
Roughly 2 hours after the Egoian envoy left the country, O'Valera prepares himself for his scheduled speech, on Maria Square. It was announced to the public. He expects at least a few hundred people, as well it'll be broadcasted live, on radio.
For the occasion, he wears an all dark brown 3 piece suit set up, with a dark brown fedora and dark brown shoes to fit.
Leaving the Caisleán, O'Valera enters his car, and instructs his driver to bring him to Maria Square. O'Valera's car is escorted by 80 horse mounted soldiers, with the 80 being equally divided in the front and back, as well as a garda escort of 6 cars with 3 in the front and 3 in the back. The solders on horse back would of course be armed with rifles slinged behind them but would be holding ceremonial swords in their right hand.
Arriving at Maria Square, O'Valera's pending speech has drawn a crowd of around 700, with nearby residents looking from their apartment windows.
Beneath the podium, separating it from the crowd is the Taoiseach's honour guard, making up 40 infantry soldiers. They're all wearing their service dress, armed with a standard Sars95, while the officer is holding a ceremonial sabre, and revolver on his hip. As the Taoiseach approaches the podium, the officer shouts a command, causing the guard to switch from shoulder arms to present arms, in perfect unison.
The present arms is done in such a way that the soldiers hold the stock of the rifle with their right hand, while the left hand is held horizontally, just beneath the bayonet catch, near the end of the barrel. The left hand held horizontally is to represent a salute. The rifle is also completely vertical, with the top of the rifle facing inwards towards the soldier.
It's also worth noting that the guard is structured in such a way that the tallest people are on the sides, while as you get deeper into the centre of the line, they gradually get shorter.
The guard hold this position until O'Valera stands in front of the podium microphone, in which the officer orders them to return to shoulder arms and about face. Again, all done in unison.
With the crowd anxiously waiting, O'Valera begins his speech.
"Today, the Dáil Iríth has voted in majority favour to recognise the independence of a country, that separated from another, due to persecution of certain groups, and tyranny. This country is known as Egoia, or Staalkastel, depending on who you ask. This country formally declared independence on the 21st of December, 1910, and has been trying to survive ever since. 10 years. These people have been surviving for 10 years, without sovereign recognition from the rest of Argus. Indeed, many people actually view them as rebels, still, or as savage anarchists bent on destroying civilization, all because they chose that they wanted to live a life free from tyranny. Even still, Egoia is constantly under threat from the Pradian military, reclaiming their territory, or Arvugian raiders, pillaging and enslaving as they continue their barbaric and despotic ways, and even Wielbelkia has put in a claim for Egoia. Yes... Wielbelkia. I just heard about this last night, and again 2 hours ago. The Wielbelkian monarchy... Egoia sent envoys to 4 other countries in Argus, in a desperate attempt to finally gain recognition. 2 of which responded positively. Irithylle, and Serdia, or so I've heard from the Egoian envoy. I have not heard what the response from the other country was, but I do know Wielbelkia received them. According to the report, Egoia sent their chief aviation engineer and his apprentice to the Wielbelkian monarchy to request sovereign recognition. How does the monarch respond? They corner them, and the aviation engineer is forced to suicide to preserve his secrets. He was working turboprop engines, you see. And the greedy, warmongering, megalomaniacal monarchy wanted his research for their own war machine. From what I know, his apprentice is still alive. Being held hostage. I can only imagine the torture she's being put through, as they try to pry the information from her. Now Egoia is under threat from 3 sides, rather than 2. And it's very possible that the Wielbelkian army will march into Egoia before the Pradian army.
I have given them my word, and as has the Dáil, that if intent of genocide or active militarization from the Pradians are discovered, Irithylle will defend Egoia. This also extends to Wielbelkia, now. Any kind of Wielbelkian incursion in Egoia will be viewed as an attack on Irithylles ally, and as a result, an act of war."
O'Valera finishes his speech, and the crowd shocked. They expected the announcement of Egoia's recognition, but not a threat to another country. The crowd of course claps in applause, but many with a shocked expression.
Sending a token of continued friendship:
**delivers a basket of muffins, pastries, jam and butter, and Hershey's kisses**
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire and Wielbelkia
Seeing the torpedos heading for the main force some pirate controlled submarine chasers start the pursuit launching depth charges and harpoons at the Serdian submarine trying to force it to the surface!
A pirate destroyer takes the full impact of the torpedo spread going up in a huge fireball!
The pirate queen to the submarine captain: "What the hell!? How did you let them follow you?"
Sub captain: "My apologies mistress... I will make it up to you."
Queen: "You better... Take your pitiful hide and go prepare for combat."
With that the pirate queen sits back in her chair as the sub captain ran off. "I hope the money is worth it..."
Stratocratic-Anarchy Oceanic Empire, Wielbelkia, and Serdian republic
Post by Serdian republic suppressed by Wielbelkia.
suppress test post
The day was once again grey and listless. The clouds above were a little less offensive looking than what would be considered typical, but nonetheless gave off an air of moodiness.
Maximilian the 1st, High Prince of the Rhôdish Lands couldn't care less about the weather. With the recent renovations and additions to the Château de Vauncennes, it may have been one of the most bright, vibrant, and well lit places in the nation. The Prince would be leisurely strolling down one of the many purely decorative halls of the Chateau, flanked on both sides by several of his dukes, speaking to him in high spirited tones.
"With these labor acts you've put in place, the coal industry in Brasiens has been absolutely thriving your highness! It's really quite amazing!
"Our shipbuilding capabilities have been expanding by the day your highness. At this rate we'll have control over the seas across Argus!
"The Rhôdish nation is more prosperous than it's ever been thanks to your glorious leadership, truly a golden age for us and our people!
It was this kind of nonsense that had been echoing within the walls of the capitol for many years now. Sure, it was true that Rhodicia's industry was doing quite wonderfully for those in control. As long as you stayed inside of that sweet little box. For the actual people of Rhodicia, quality of life was in ruins. The vast majority of middle class workers were more and more becoming slaves to the High Prince, with discontent and exhaustion growing bloated like a long dead carcass.
Simply put, the people could take no more. For years now they had been plotting to put an end to this tyranny, various groups and individuals trying to figure out how to unite everyone against their common oppressors. One of the most successful individuals in this field was Vincent Mousseau, a lowly baker from the capital city who had been studying and spreading the words of Serdian philosopher Charles Marcus. He was notorious enough that eventually he was imprisoned, and eventually sent to a hospital for the mentally ill. Most of his followers and supporters would be mostly fractured as of now, many longing for the return of their leader. Nonetheless the particularly radical workers of Rhodicia would soon have their time to strike.
The less radical majority of the weary men and women of Rhodicia, would typically be considered Republicans. It was rather obvious that the people to the east in Serdia, were either a little or a lot less oppressed than themselves. Either way, any improvements would preferable to the way things were as they stood. The Prince and his authorities would time and time again, attempt to remind the people of how awful the Serdians were, commonly describing them with words like "imperialists, meddling, aggressors". The actual public perception of them however was quite unswayed, with most believing that Serdians were quite pleasant. In all actuality the typical Rhôdish likely envied their eastern neighbors ways of life, believing in some sort of idealized "Serdian Dream".
Weather a Republican, Marcusian, or anyone other Rhôdish person in between a chance to act would be drawing near. The workers of Rhodicia's ports had recently been seeing worse and worse treatment after the new labor laws, and had absolutely had it. A strike had quietly been arranged in several of Rhodicia's large ports, and was set to occur in the next couple of days essentially shutting down all of Rhodicia's trade by sea and shipbuilding for an indefinite period. There would be no anticipation of this by anyone except the workers involved.
The events of the coming days and months could have been predicted by no one and everyone. The inevitable crash as a result of the Royal subjugation, would soon come.
Akrosford, Southern Egoia (Staalkastel)
After the Staalgrad Uprising, the many Guilds and Engineering associations of Akrosford joined up into a sort of Syndicate and Militia and began to turn their little piece of Egoia into a tinkerer's dream. It is in Akrosford that many Egoian inventors and philosophers come together to make dreams into reality and today is one such day. Akrosford is in the plains of Egoia but the area around Akrosford has completely been remolded into a labyrinth of tunnels, trenches and roads, above and under the earth and a sizable number of earthworks.
Today we look at the Electromancer guilds, wherein a small group of robed men and women stand around a firing range with a large, blocky weapon in the shape of a gun being held by the youngest among them.
"you really think it'll work this time?"
"It's gonna blow up for sure."
"I'll get the bandages ready."
From a window above the firing range an old man looks down and laughs, "Ah the eccentricity and hopefulness of youth... Jonas has been trying to make that tesla rifle work for ages." He turns back to Loria, who would be sitting in a chair across from him, "Forgive me dear, I assume you didn't come here for the blathering of an old man."
Loria, her mood darkened much like her clothes after the events of the past week simply stared, "I didn't. I need the help the Engineers in Akrosford. We need something stealthy to equip a team to go south into Pradia, look for subversives, and arm them. We also need to collect information of their atrocities. We have the support of some Serdian businessman and the recognition of Irithylle and they are willing to give us aid if we can prove the truth." She grips her staff, "I also want to set up a team to arm the marxists in Wielbelkia. I don't care who takes over. I want the royal family to suffer, have every single bit of their lives destroyed and stripped away from them one by one, and I want their corpses to be paraded around upon bloodied pikes. I want just-... I want revenge. THIS is personal."
The old man leaned back in his chair, behind him a flash of blue light and a small explosion would be seen. Silence fell over and then suddenly cheering, The rifle worked. "Loria... I understand you are... heartbroken but I can't do the latter. I'm not gonna risk young men and women to die for someone's personal vendetta. As for the former, I will do what I can."
She sighs, "The Voideric will already be going to Wielbelkia and Helgryce. You can choose to support the former operation all you want. They are going... Please Uncle Cyrus, do it for me."
The Old man sighs, "... I'll... send Jonas and Lilith to Wielbelkia. Let them go first. Their mission shall be SCHOLARLY first and foremost. If they fail, then you can go and send in your militia."
She nods, "Thank you uncle."
Frigide found the letter quite interesting, though naturally she kept it from anyone but her trusted aids for now. Still, this does change things a fair amount. For one, she needed to make extra sure to keep Gertrude away from her brother; possibly father as well considering how passive he was getting lately. Though this did explain why she looked familiar. For now, she instructed Nikolai to have someone inform her she would be meeting her soon. Personally.
Gertrude would be sat at a table, piles upon piles of books scattered around her alongside a few blueprints drawn up for her crawler tank design. Upon hearing of Frigide's approach she got to work tidying up as best she could, leaving only a select few books about Wielbelkian culture and religion while also rolling up her blueprints. She then sat about on a chair, an empty one across from her and waited for the meeting.
Naturally, when the time came for the meeting; it wasn't the princess who stepped in first but a pair of imperial agents who swept the room as a precaution. After they were satisfied, one of them opened the door again and the princess herself stepped in; though the agents made no move to leave the room.
"Apologies for the inspection, and the escort. It's more to assuage my subordinates' fears than for my own sake." she said as she took a seat.
Gertrude simply nodded, "Let's... cut the formalities. My level of patience for bourgeois pleasantries is lacking. You'll forgive my irtibility, it's just that I went into a foreign nation to ask for aid and protection from a hostile, revanchist, genocidal power bent on world domination to the south of us, my mentor and teacher that I had known all my life committed suicide after being threatened at gun point by wielbelkian secret police, and have been trapped in this room bawling my eyes out for hours on end." As if it wasn't clear enough her mood was sour, she crossed her arms, "what is it you want exactly? Weapons? Knowledge? Political power? Or perhaps you seek to kill your old man and seize the throne finally? Maybe take out your brother in the process and pin it on me in some elaborate plan in which I will be the scapegoat. We both know I haven't much leverage here so why the pleasantries and formalities?"
in The midst of all the confusion and uncertainty that has beset the world... some continue to work on their dreams.
In a rail-yard somewhere in Columbia, not too far from the junction leading to Florence Station and just several miles away from the equally prestigious (but rival Seaboard Midlands Railway owned) Euston Central Station, a small railway yard would sit with a large workshop situated at the very end, a very unassuming little yard with a few wagons and coaches scattered about it with a somewhat filthy little tank engine chuffering about keeping it neat and orderly, but the geriatric little 0-4-0T isn't why the head of the Columbia Central Railway and various corporate big-wigs and the C.C.R.'s chief mechanical designer Sir Gordon F. Gresley are all standing about the shed, awaiting the reveal of the big "Hush-Hush" as the workmen and engineers have been calling it.
"Gentlemen!" Gresley spoke. "We're proud to say that the past three years, we've spent designing, testing and developing, the roughly one-million-dollars you've spent... they have all not gone to waste..." Gordon Gresley said with pride, the group of officials walking towards the doors of the workshop with Mr. Gresley standing aside as the doors slowly swung open, excitement building amongst the gathered officials and rail yard staff as slowly, with a heavy chuff and the rolling of finely oiled and finely machined pistons came a locomotive.. a very large locomotive of the 4-6-2 wheel configuration with a slightly tapered boiler and specially designed valve-gear slowly rolled out, painted a bright apple-green with finely painted white lining bands across it's boiler and around it's cab and tender, emblazoned on the side of the cab would be the locomotive's number of No.4270 whilst on it's tender would be the neatly painted on acronym for the Columbia Central.
"What a noble looking machine!" The head of the C.C.R.'s marketing said in an excited tone, clearly impressed with the prototype whilst the others stared with more sedated approval, everyone clearly impressed with the engine's aesthetically pleasing design but as the head of the company said. "It looks fantastic but... how does it run?" He asked Gresley, who replied bluntly. "The projected performance is enough for you to say goodbye to those obsolete old C-5A1s and C-5A2s."
"Charles!" Gresley said, turning to the engine's cab and grabbing the attention of the driver. "Has she passed her last tests?" he asked, to which replying in a surprisingly strong South Eastern accent. "She passed 'em with flying colors!..." The blonde young man peeking his head out the cab window. "When do we take her on the main line?" The driver asked excitedly.
"Today... We shall demonstrate not just that the Columbia Central Railway is the premier railway company in the North West of Serdia, but also this demonstration will show to the traveling public that our rivals at the Midlands Railway, the Southern Railway and The Great Eastern Railway are obsolescent and slow... Today will be a great day for the C.C.R." And with that, Gresley would climb into the cab of his machine with the driver and fireman whilst the assembled staff and officials made their way to an assembled trio of fine teak express coaches that the thankless little 0-4-0T had just shunted, whilst they scrambled aboard the great big prototype engine (Classed as an 'A-01X') Slowly crossed over some points with the fireman hopping out of the cab to change the switches so that the engine may couple to the test train.
History will be made!
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