NationStates Jolt Archive

((OOC: This is the opening for a theatre within the Copen Galaxy, and only those who are part of the organizations listed or are listed specifically may enter this theatre.

The Galactic Empire (GE)
The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances (GFFA)
The Extra Solar Union of Systems (ESUS)
Nova Boozia
The Safavids

There are three sides to this conflict, and the Galactic Empire, the GFFA, Nova Boozia, and the Safavids have already stated their sides in this.

Copen Protectorate Remnants
-Galactic Federation of Free Alliances
-Nova Boozia
-The Safavids

Zeon Empire of Sarkaran
-Galactic Empire

Confederation of Independent Worlds

If you wish to be part of this theatre, and are not in the listed above, you must first telegram me, and must fit these requirements:

-have a population above 3 billion
-must be future tech
-must have a factbook for nation
-must be literate

I'm very touchy about the last requirement. If you don't present yourself well in your telegram, I may well look you over for another nation.

I am also looking for help in creating a Galactic Map that is detailed like the Star Wars Galaxy Map I've seen floating around these boards. If someone can help me, I'd be most appreciative.))




Prologue



There has been a legend that has been told throughout the galaxy of a war. A great war between gods. This legend has been passed down for generations, and throughout time has become somewhat of a myth.

A powerful god, known as Sarakis, once ruled the entire galaxy for a time that no mortal could have ever dreamed of. Ancient races of reknown throughout the universe revered him, for Sarakis was a benevolent god, who brought about an age of prosperity that lasted for countless millenia. His people rejoiced, proclaiming Sarakis to be their Father-God, and he was loved by all.

However, time can take its toll on the minds of many, and Sarakis' mind, too, fell into damnation. Rousing his army from a sleep that had lasted many millenia, Sarakis began to terrorize his people, and waged war upon many of his neighboring galaxies. Ancient races fell to the might of this armies, incapable of fighting such a powerful force.

And when there seemed to be no hope for the universe, a single warrior stood against his master, and challenged his power. Rallying the fallen races and the people who once called him a Father-God, Sarakis was defeated, and the warrior who had slain him was lost to time.

You may ask, who was this warrior?

That warrior was his son.

And I have returned.

______________________________________


Location: Copen City, Copenhaghenkoffenlaugh

Time: 8:34 Copen General Mean Time


A man sat at a desk within an elaborate office decorated in the most expensive furnishings. The desk was made of corvis, a rare ore found on the planet Ungra in the Galactic East. It was the first, and last, of its kind, no thanks to the troublesome space Orks who had been rampaging within the Crimson Sector.

A number of paintings adorned the walls, several portraying legendary battles fought by men and women of great reknown. One picture depicted the epic battle between Marnue Vorsoth and the infamous C'Tan, Overlord, who had been defeated at the cost of Marnue's own life.

Across the room, a larger picture hung above the arched doorways to the office, depicting the final battle between the Copen Protectorate and the Zentradi at the Battle of Gravity Pass, a large area of space in the Galactic South mostly dominated by super giant stars, high-gravity planets, and black holes of varying sizes.

The granite doors slowly opened, and a man in his late fifties entered the room. He had hair that looked like salt and pepper, and he wore fine blue robes of silk reminiscent of those worn by religious figures in the Catholic church. However, he was not a religious man of any sort. His name was Minister of Defense, Bester Kaybron, of the Fedral Union.

He approached the desk where the previous man sat, and bowed.

"My lord, the press conference is in fifteen minutes," said Bester.

"I know, Master Kaybron," replied the man.

"The fleets have also been prepared to enforce martial law upon the people should they react violently," continued the Minister.

"Good," stated the man, who pushed his seat backwards slowly and stood up. The man was Chancellor Devon Parker, but his eyes seemed much more different, having more of a draconic look to them. "It's time we bring order to our galaxy once and for all."

OOC: This is just to establish the political and military situation in NB. No one knows what's happening in your galaxy yet.

IC: It was not a big room, no great parliaments or councils assembled here. It was not a grand room, although some very important people occupied it. It was not even an especially comfortable room. What it was was secure. The nearest an assassin had ever come to one of the people it was designed for was fifty meters, due to a ventilation change before the clearence squad could arrive to bag the bits that were left. Of course, that was back in the days when the "jackal states" still even tried assassination.

It was the civilian office of the Oberrat. Just imagine what the military office was like.

Ten of them sat in a circle of roughly alternating army red, navy black, and the meticulously folded suits of the civilians while the final member, Admiral Peter Hoeffscher, Department of Military Research and Development, finished his lecture.

"Think of it as a miniature Manticore. And of course the full size Manticores get proportionately greater range with the same system. That means an ST battalion is going to be putting down a lot of indirect fire."

"I'm sure our military will benefit immensely, Herr Admiral, but when can we expect this stuff to arrive? Very little of our own industrial output is available for military use," said the Minister of Security, Anna Pirch.

"The last batch is apparently off the assembly lines already. Our new allies in the Copen galaxy are just adding the paintjob. Of course once it arrives there's still distribution to worry about." That was the Minister of Economy.

"And between one and two thirds of the troops in all units are relatively fresh. Jurai vets are very seldom in the majority, and although we've been adding it to the simulators, no-one's actually cleared any of their new equipment yet," cut in General-Feldmarschall Joachim Theilmann, army chief of staff.

"Very good, ladies and gentlemen, very good. But none of this is going to happen if we lose our positions. It's time to take a look at the situation in the Reichsdiet."

The speaker, Schnapsemarschall Otto Morlok, who was technically a constitutionally bound military dictator even though he had only one vote like everyone, dropped onto the speaker's floor as the admiral left it to reclaim his seat.

"Of course, most of the support by which we hold our majority here is coming from the more capitalistic members of the Conservatives and the Expansionists, and it was members of both parties who were largely responsible for our joining the Galactic Empire. And even after the Jurai debacle, there are still a noticeable group who want membership of or at the very least an alliance with the empire. But the majority backed our decision to pull out, and so pro-union members of both have founded new parties, the Pro-Union Conservatives and the Pro-Imperial Expansionists. If some plans for a merger are carried through, they could be this close to holding a veto.

"Our best bet is to have our major supporters in all parties unite and bring issues to the vote that drive a wedge between them. A decision on the legitimacy of the jackal states has always been a point of friction. The expansionists are all for refusing to recognise their governments and taking their planets, but the conservatives want the Boozian gulf starmap to stay the way it's always been, and the current military situation makes this an important point for discussion."

OOC: Glorified Bump

IC: Boots thudded on the snow, a six-inch coating which had been marched, run, driven, or dropped onto so many times this week that the new arrivals didn't even leave footprints. Someone had snatched a tacrec flag from their Chimera and poked it over the ridge in the hope that it might attract some fire, but only a few shots burned through the fabric of the penant, a poor indicator of the hurt waiting for the first soldier to raise their head too high. That was a good sign. The troops had learned fire discipline already. Hopefully the kampfgruppe on the offensive had learned some tricks, too.

"Reifenstohl, you have sensors that can pop over there, right?"

"I did, sir. Now I have a periscope. Those things are fragile and you can't carry many."

"I'll lodge a complaint, just give me a barrage."

"On it."

The FOO flattened himself on the snow, his heated uniforms slowly melting away at the patch beneath him, and extended the periscope.

"Too spead out. Verticle protection thick, but mostly snow..."

He rolled, taking the 'scope with him, as a shot whizzed close enough to heat the plastic of the instrument.

"Incendiary, 1G1S, thirty-nine ems at 157 degs from TR point eleven, that's eleven, one-one."

Oberst Leutnant Fleischer had given up trying to decipher the arcane tongue of the artillerist a long time ago. He knew just enough to ask for imperfect fire himself, no more.

The shell only took a moment in arriving, but a big enough moment for the troops in several bunkers to disperse and make for boltholes. That was enough for the forces behind the ridgeline.

Armoured vehicles would have been too obvious: the infantry went first, supported by almost random mortar fire. There were three bunkers in the target area each of which was targetted by a platoon of one company. Fighting was chaotic, but the tried and true "boot, bomb, bayonet" proved as practical as ever. The next but was the one with the greatest number of potential FUBARs.

Berta and Cäsar companies, supported by mortars behind the ridge and StuGs poking over it, would have to cross...

"Bomb drill!"

The Feldwebel was a sadist. Who has bomb drill during combat drill?

Answer: most Boozian training personnell. They call it an accurate representation of military life.

Cameras flashed within the conference room, creating a strobe light effect as the Chancellor stepped to the podium. The Chancellor was adorned in his usual dress robes of blue and purple, and he adjusted the collar of the robes before he spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the universe, my fellow sentients.

I come before you in our gravest time. For years we have been plagued by the Green Tide, and many of the greatest peoples have of the Galaxy have attempted to overthrow the Protectorate time and again. Even with these challenges, the greatest threat of all does not lie within our borders, but without.

The Protectorate is in grave danger from our greatest military commander, and his family. Our Supreme Commander Feronen Selinorasi has been plotting the overthrow of the government for decades, and he has amassed the armies of the Protectorate to bring us down. However, we are not without hope.

For years, I have kept a secret from our people, one that would challenge the vile Selinorasi family. I, Devon Parker, am a member of the Zeon cause.

Many people within the Protectorate have dark memories of us, but I asure you that we come not to opress our people, but to free them from the future tyranny of the Selinorasi family and their allies.

As the leader of the Protectorate, I hereby abolish the Protectorate, and establish the Zeon Empire, and as my first act as the leader of the Zeon Empire, I declare war against the Selinorasi family and their allies, and I pledge the nation's support to the Galactic Empire.

I thank you for your time."

((Nations who wish to be involved may tag their involvement by preparing their fleets or posting their reactions to the semi-hypocritical press statement that was made.))

"Message inbound, looks like... Copen broadcast technology, and if I'm not wrong it could easily have the right physical origin."

"Recipient?"

"It's a general press statement."

"Okay, play it to me."

The suited man watched carefully as the message was played out simultaneously on his personal screen and the main one at the back of the room. He maintained his composure throughout, never once showing the slightest reaction.

"Forward this to the Oberrat and Reichsdiet and wait for the decision on a general broadcast. Someone see if our comms to the Selinorasi still work."


"Well, what can I say. Crap?"

"Crap and double crap. Our alliance is with the Selinorasi, specifically Feronen. It was them who basically came up with the Jurai evacuation run and the subsequent aid scheme. I doubt Mr. Parker is going to be so keen on the idea. He probably has us labelled as pawns in his alleged vast conspiracy."

"And I doubt Mr. Selinorasi is going to be too keen on Mr. Parker's idea. You all know the beer hall revolution, you studied it in high school. It's an excellent example of military commanders using their popularity in the ranks to get political clout."

Pirch cut in.

"How I see this is that we need the equipment, so we have to support the Selinorasis militarily."

"And besides, Copen is a reasonably big player in the affairs of our own galaxy. We don't want it joining the Empire," noted Reichsadmiral Gerspel.

"We're in agreement?"

There were varying degrees of assent.

"Okay, then we'll have it brought up in the Reichsdiet, with their approval, we can mobilise."


"As such, the Conservative party motions that all elements of the military should be mobilised and ready to transfer to the Copen galaxy on the request of the legitimate administration, most likely resistance movements attempting to maintain the original protectorate, likely including the Selinorasi family."

The Conservative/Expansionist Coalition had been in agreement, and managed to win over the Progressives, dominated as they were with anti-Empire sentiment in recent months. It was a 67% majority in favour.


"So if Heinrich takes the offer, I could be in line for a promotion, even if it's only lateral, and..."

The phone rang.

"I've got it, dad... It's for you."

The suit-clad, clean-shaven civil servant took the reciever from his daughter.

"Mr. Wagner, the Reichsdiet has voted to mobilise all reserves. Please report to the naval depot in Aufzugstadt this weekend with your uniform, some money, and a pastime. War has not yet been declared and we hope you can return home as soon as possible. Thank you very much. Our country is relying on you."