NationStates Jolt Archive

It was a bit of a rare day in Ianapalis; there was not a single drop of rain to ruin what was shaping up to be a perfect spring morning in the capital city. A calm wind from the south west blew the fresh sea smell from Troobodia Bay over the city.

Most everyone in the city was taking the chance to have a day out and about. Unity Square was jammed packed with picnicking families; even the broad lawns between the five marble buildings of Jameston Place were filled with parliamentarians eager to escape their stuffy offices and meeting halls.

Edward Tarriff, His Iansislean Majesty's once and again Prime Minister, was one of those who chose to take advantage of the fine day. He strolled along a beautiful walkway as best his advanced years allowed him, every breath filling his lungs with the smell of flowers and the sea on the way in and puffing out his great mustache on the way out.

"As you were saying?" he invited his companion, Chancellor of the Exchequer the Earl of Dirwisham.

"As I was saying, Mr Tarriff," continued Dirwisham irritably - but then, he was always irritable - while sparing hardly a glance for their surroundings, "We've offered to serve as the host for a peace conference between two countries, Fultonia and Hodgenia."

"Have we?" Tarriff didn't seem too interested.

"We have," replied Dirwisham, hoping his harsh tone would rid the stubborn Gadsani of his damned indifference. "I think it would be a nice gesture of yours to host the talks."

"Is this really worth my time?" asked Tarriff. He wanted to bend over and pick a flower, but the threat of his back giving out was just a little too acute. "I mean, I've never even heard of either of these countries before."

"I think that they will prove very worth your time," said the Earl of Inswick, Foreign Minister. He was standing over Tarriff's other shoulder.

"More important than that trip to Fort Jackson I had planned? You know as well as I do how shaky our support in the West Shield is."

"I think so," said Dirwisham. "We've another year or so before we have to call a general election. I think we can safely assume this liberal kick will have vanished by the time winter sets in next. Now's still the time to be focusing on our foreign relations - such as the Alliance."

"What in the green hills of the Shield does the Alliance have to do with...Fintonia and Hodania?"

"Fultonia and Hodgenia," corrected Dirwisham sharply. "Well, Mr Tarriff, if you don't want to preside over what could rejuvenate the New Highlands as an international power..."

"Hold on," said Tarriff. Something in his political opportunity-o-meter was rumbling. "What's this about, then?"

"Remember the younger Inswick's mission to Imitora?" asked Dirwisham. Tarriff nodded slowly. "Well, the public opinion of the Domain has increased radically of late: some say that the majority of people would support the re-admittance of Imitora to the Alliance. Many of those same people live in key electorates."

Tarriff's eyes were positively gleaming now.

"Well, it's come to my attention that Fultonia and Imitora do have some key relations...of course, I suppose D'Carlonia or Dhawan could handle th..."

Tarriff cut him off in a panic. "No, no, it's quite all right! I'm sure I can always push my rally in the West Shield back a week or two!"

"The diplomats are landing at the Gurney International Aerodock within the next few hours," said Dirwisham with a smile at Inswick.

Rather unannounced, as usual, a shuttle broadcasting Crimmond IFF codes simply appears out of the upper atmosphere and starts to land. It requsted no clearence, nor recieved any. They just landed on an empty helipad. Lumbering out of the shuttle was a large reptilian Brute, the same that had gone to the APTO for 'help', after Delta took power. "Pilot, stay here. If anyone tries to board the shuttle, shoot them." The pilot nods and goes back inside, sealing the shuttle as the Brute steped out from under one of the 'wings' of the Scarab class shuttle. They were in fact engine pods, but gave the craft it's overall scarab beetle look.

Agent 841 walked across the tarmac at a medium pace, ignoring anyone that didn't show they were either a government official or were carrying a gun. He just kept walking, his mostly black robes matching his dark hide, which lightened and darkened a bit as his body needed, towards whatever was waiting to pick up the diplomats. "I am Agent 841. Crimmond Black Staff foriegn affairs division. I have been sent as an observer to these procedings." Given the Combine's threat to decimate an aggressor, the Brute's precense seemed logical, a living warning of what would be unleashed.

Before the Crimmond arrival:

"Now, what in tarnation is that?" pondered one mechanic, examining a small asphalt circle that had suddenly appeared near the hangers at Gurney International Aerodock.

"I haven't the foggiest," replied another, kicking the edge. A few loose pebbles skittered across the large 'H' painted in the middle.

"I've seen one before," said a third knowingly.

"No you haven't, liar," scoffed the first, making to smack the third on the back of the head. The other dodged.

"I have too! Don't call me a liar! It was in Larkinia...this's where they land those, eh, what-da-ya-ma-callum, belly-thoppers."

"A belly-thopper?" said the second, scratching his chin. "Makes sense, but why on earth would we have a belly-thopper port here?"

"I have a feeling," replied the third in a preachy voice, "that this is just the sort of calamity that happens when you take liberties with someone else's country."

"What the hell does that mean?" grumbled the first.

"I haven't the foggiest," repeated the second.

----

After the unannounced Crimmond arrival - fortunately, the out-of practice anti-air batteries' crews didn't open up, for there was no such thing as an IFF receiver on the Shield - a distinctly surly driver leaning against one of two Model IV Westerton Jackrabbit Motor-Cars examined the new arrival. He took a long drag on his cigarette, then flipped the smoldering butt away.

"Is that so?" he asked, flipping up the brim on his kepi disinterestedly.

Telegram to Iansisle

This telegram is being sent on behalf of the Fultonian government. Listed herein is all the information The Republic has concerning the war with Hodgeania as gathered by the Fultonian Intelligence Agency.

1. The attack came suddenly on April 2nd with no warning and 40 major bases were 90% or more devestated. 5 were at 50%m, 3 were 25%, and 2 were 10% damaged.

2. After all Fultonia military unts were removed from the cities and bases a second wave struck all of Fultonia's major cities.

3. Fultonia Intelligence discerned that hodgeania was being funded and equipped by unkown powers.

4. peace negotiations begin between the two nations. rogue Fultonia Captain sabatoges peace talks. has since been executed.

5. Assault forces attack Fultonia a thrid time destoying all vestiges of the major cities. Fultonia troops land on hodgeania taking control of coastal city. loss 0f 27,000 infantrymen and 2/3rd's of Fultonia's naval forces by unknown agressors.

6. Cease Fire declared and Iansisle asked to stage negotiations.

Corporal Bottom was lost in space. Can President Jefferson help the republic restore order yet again. As Speaker of the House he had taken controll and saved the republic from Civil war. that was only 5 years ago. He had been re-elected in a landslide, gaining 85% of the vote. Hell, if he wasn't so conservative he might have been able to take everyone. He suited Bottom just fine. They had served together briefly and when the military was restructured under his first presidency he ahd appointed Bottom Deputy Assistant in charge of teh Federal Bureau of Investigation. Now he was acting Director of the Department of Homeland Security. As acting Ambassador it was his task to get things rolling, and he would do his best. He does have a masters degree in communications after all.

the pilot came over the loud speaker of 747, designated as The Dove.
"Sir we about to begin landing procedures into Iansisle."

"Thank you lieutenant. Signal the tower that Fultonia thanks the people of Iansisle for staging these negotiations." Bottom buckled in and sipped his drink as the plane came in for a smooth landing. Bottom ahd never heard of Iansisle nad was shocked at the state of the Nation. it was like the 1950's all over again.

the plane landed and the marine escorts walked with Bottom as he headed toward the several Model IV Westerton Jackrabbit Motor-Cars. Bottom always had trusted a squad of well organized marines to those secret service types.

The standard blue, black, and red CV-22I hummed towards the Aerodock, the large turboprops pulling the titlrotor at a conservative 437Knots. Marshall, fresh from the Rumbiak funeral and other small things at home, looked over a general intell briefing on Fultonia and Hodgania.

He also looked back at the situation at home. All it would take is the press of button on his cell phone, and the remaining cities and what little infastructure of Fultonia would be in a very bad way. Marshall hadn't been anythign special in the ICMC, but had seen the devistation even a low yeild weapon could create, and he knew that the weapons currently hovering over Fultonia right now were more than just city killers.

Marshall felt the situation, however, was warrented, and he was more worried about the pilots, or aviators, as they prefered to be called. He could feel the heavily moddified Osprey begin its descent, and he looked out the window, watching the airfield approach. When the aircraft had landed, and he had been given the go ahead from the pilot, he disembarked, and looked around the airfield, noting the line of taxis. He grabbed his bag, brushed off his suit, and headed over to the cars.

As the A-380 streaked towards Ianisle the leaders began discuseing what would happen once they landed. As the plane decended from 40,000 ft Iansile began to apear on the horizion. As we desended lower radio comunication began with the Ianisle airport controle tower. " Roger, Presidential 1547 heavy cleared to land runway 12R advise tower when airport is in sight" as we prepared for landing final preperations were made. We also made a last minute check over our peace agreements. At exatly 12:00 the main gear of the A-380 touched down with a puff of smoke. We arived at our designated parkeing area as plained and began to off load the limousine as well as a few other presidential vehicles and we waited to be met by the Ianisle chaperones.

The brute nods. "Yeah." He looks at the Imitoran as he approaches. "He'll confirm who I am, providing he saw the last APTO conference..."

Bottom sees the pomp of the Hodgeanian delegation. He feels sorry for the Hodgeanians. ruled by a Totalitarian regime that stifels freedoms and liberties. If he had his way chemical warheads would ahve been the first response to the unprovoked counterattack. President Jefferson let his compassionate religious ethic get in the way a little too much. Crap, there had only been three executions during the last 5 years. He was being hailed the second founder and savior of the republic though. The rest of his entourage was heading his way. Bureaucrats, politicians, and a few staffers that were found alive in the Office of Homeland Security. "What pompousness." Bottom lit a cigarette and waited.

"I don't care who you are, other than you aren't the Fultonian, Hodgenian, or Imitoran delegates," replied the driver. "I'm not supposed to drive anyone else; these are government vehicles, they are. Now, if you'll pardon me, sir, I believe I have some actual business that needs attending." He straightened his coat and hat and prepared himself for the Fultonian's arrival.

There was a time when even simple cloth and wood aeroflyers would elicit the greatest excitement if they came to the Shield. However, in these days of great Bankfield and Graye flying craft, a 747 was treated as almost run of the mill.

One might be surprised at the lack of security at Gurney International. A few men in the khaki uniforms of the King's VII Rifles regiment were scattered about smoking cigarettes and talking. Still another few men in the bright scarlet of the Flying Corps wandered about, most of whom were on their way to the Shadoran Military Flyer Dock, one of the largest military airfields in the Commonwealth.

"You're the Fultonian delegate?" the driver greeted Bottom friendly. "I'll be your guide in the city; Reggie Black's the name. Prime Minister Tarriff sends his apologies; he's sorry he wasn't able to meet you in person, but certain concerns have come up. I'll take you to Jameston; the negotiations are to start as soon as possible.

The other driver greeted Marshall in much the same way. A third man went out to meet the Hodgenian delegation.

"Welcome to Iansisle," he said, reaching out a hand to whoever seemed to be in charge. "We were informed you'd be providing your own transportation. It's a few miles to Jameston, and I'm just here to guide you in."

Crimmond Peace negotiations can not progress unless you vacate the area immediately you were not on the guest list and there for have no reason to be here. Also you will not be involved in the proceedings to begin with and will just be ignored. You are medaling in affairs that do not concern you.

"thank you Reggie." Bottom put on his black fedora and straightened out his black suit. "Appreciate the ride."

"It's my pleasure, sir," said Black as he held the door open for bottom. He climbed in the front seat and started the Jackrabbit. It backfired loudly.

after a few minutes of driving "So Reggie, it is my understanding that iansisle is a monarchy. With a Parliamentarian system. does the parliament really hold power or does the king?" Bottom smiled as lit a cigarre.

Crimmond Peace negotiations can not progress unless you vacate the area immediately you were not on the guest list and there for have no reason to be here. Also you will not be involved in the proceedings to begin with and will just be ignored. You are medaling in affairs that do not concern you.OOC: My nation has vowed to decimate the aggressor should hostilities commence again. The Brute is there as a first hand observer and a reminder that teh Combine is watching. I said I would not partake in negotiations. I don't plan to. I plan to watch them.

IC: Agent 841 growled. "I hate diplomatic missions...." He walks around the car and hops on the front bumper. The car dips noticably. "Mind telling me something before you shuttle that one to the conference? Just who do I have to talk to to get a ride to where he's going? Besides either hanging ont your car or a cab?"

Black sighed and rolled down his window. "You're making quite a scene. Now, we're at a public aerodock: I'm sure you can find someway to travel a couple miles to town. Now please, get off my automobile."

OOC: Crimmond, with all do respect, bug off.

IC:

Marshall looked at teh brute, and shrugged. "Never seen him before." He smiled at the driver as he slid into the Jackrabbit. He had always wanted to go to Iansisle, if, for no other reason, to see how that kid John lived.

"Mr Marshall, I assume?" asked the Imitoran's driver. "Manny Walker. I'll be driving you to Jameston." He opened the door for Marshall, slipped behind the wheel, and started off down Empire Street.

"First time in the Commonwealth?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

(F., I'll get to your question soon ;))

Tag for later y'all. I'm running outta guys to send places like this ;)

"Yeah it is," he said, looking out the window. "Gotta nice place here."

Walker chuckled. "I'm sure Jameston would be pleased to hear that." Outside, Iansisle rolled past. Empire Street, even out in the boondocks near the aerodock, was broad and tree lined.

Marshall nodded as he stared out the window. "I thought Iansisle was usually rainy? Or did I read teh wrong breifing?" he asked, watching the world go by out the window. He wondered how the Kings VII would deal with the brute.

"I'm terribly sorry about that incident," said Black when at last he managed to get out of Gurney International and turn south onto Empire Street. "I suppose some people just have to learn how to use proper diplomatic channels." He pulled his Jackrabbit into the center lane. Walker's car was a distant dot up ahead.

After Bottom's question:

Black chuckled. "That's a rather tricky question, sir." He pulled around an older model Westerton and accelerated up towards thirty miles per hour. "I suppose you could say our hearts are with the High King, but the real political power is with Parliament. But His Majesty's more than just a figurehead; he does participate actively in governance, especially in foreign policy.

"I hope I'm not rambling too much?" he asked, glancing at the dashboard mounted rearview mirror. "I tend to get a bit carried away where politics are concerned."

----------

Walker laughed. "It is, usually. I suppose the good Lord got wind out our peace conference today and blessed us with sunshine. Spring's usually the wettest time of year, too."

He noticed Marshall staring out the window. "Sorry if the scenery's a little boring right now, sir," he said. "We'll be getting into the city soon enough; I'd be pleased to point out some of the sights."

'Yes, politics can get quite messy. A monarchy is a strange thing, something I just don't think Fultonians would accept." Bottom opened his briefcase and rooted through papers. These negotiations were vital to the security and prosperity of Fultonia.

"Its all good man," Marshall responded, watching the trees go by. The car was a little slow for him, but he didn't mind. Sometimes the 100+mph speed of his Ducatti 999R didn't offer much of a chance to see the scenery.

The lead pilot in the Ravens flying over Hodgania, with attack profiles designating air and ground targets in and around Costal City, banked away from the circle, and started a descent. He flicked a switch in the cockpit, and the plane became cisable, at least to the eye. It was still invisable to radar.

He dropped to 3,000 feet, and kicked the after burners, then banked again, and went into a shallow dive. He was at 150 feet when he rekicked the afterburners, and shot over the Fultonian troops. He banked, pulled back on the stick, and went skyward. He rejoined with his wing, who had, know, all clicked off GhostSkin, yet let the Athena Mod 4 still run. They descneded down to 4,000 feet, and circled the city, maintaing a very tight circle, letting everyon on the ground know they were there.

The other fighters, that had gone low and started to target Fultonian ground forces. They clicked off GhostSkin, and began threating observation runs, low, fast, and hot. Each run, they let their weapons target whatever the were running, and some times even opened the weapons bay. Some runs they even started spining their guns, but not letting the rounds enter the chamber.

They were making noise, but not doing much else. However, four more Ravens were on their way, armed for a different type of attack.

Black opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly snapped it shut. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed Bottom fiddling about with some papers. He decided that now might not be the best time for conversation.

In the other car, Walker nodded to a small cluster of buildings to the east. "That's Westergate over yonder. It's the outermost of Ianapalis' satellite cities." He spoke of it proudly, as it was his home town. "The Ians play at our grounds, most of the time at least. And His Lordship the Marquess is currently a full Admiral and the Lord Commander Home Fleet!"

The Jackrabbits rounded another of the little grass covered mounds that people who had never left Shadoran called 'mountains' and suddenly Ianapalis in all its glory sprung into sight.

Ianapalis may never rank along with Paris, London, or Rome among the great capital cities of the world, but it was an impressive sight and the throbbing heart of an intercontinental empire. The western half of the city seemed both the most historical and the most modern; there had never been an official census, but well over three hundred thousand souls lived in the strange bled on architectural styles that constituted the government sector. Art deco and gothic skyscrapers, dominated by the International and Whitman towers, soared dozens of stories above the two or three hundred year old red brick townhomes and office buildings. One's eye was scarcely able to pick an individual building out of the cacophony.

To the east, however, was a different story. Sprawling nearly ten times larger than the 'government sector' was a massive conglomeration of crumbling tenements, towering smoke stacks, and ramshackle shanties. In this vast second city lived some nine million blue collar and lower-middle class men and women. The scraped out a life on the very fringes of civilization, which happened to be little more than a stone's throw from its heart.

Walker and Black, like most people in the foreign service, turned a complete blind eye to the heavy industry and abject poverty, perhaps hoping that if they ignored it, their passengers would too. Black let Bottom have his privacy and didn't say anything, while Walker seemed eager to point out the sights.

"We're on Empire Street right now," he said, indicating the eight lane road they were driving on. "You can see it cut right down the center there, all the way to Adien Bay." He indicated the large body of water before them, which snuck slender fingers into the city every here and there. "Commonwealth Street bisects it about halfway through, at Unity Square." Walker laughed. "I know it's all a little hokey, sir, but we are a relatively new city."

Bottom closed his folder and locked his briefcase. He scanned the horizon and looked at the city. It was marvelous. The status report said that most of Fultonia's main monuments escaped the war intact. Almost enough to beleive God was on your side. If you beleived in someone who allowed so much death to occur. "A fine city and a damn fine country." He sat puffing the cigar. "If the Republic remains intact and the war does officially end I extend a personal invitation to you both. Perhaps even your Prime Minister or even more humbling your Majesty could stop for a visit. Say, what religions are practiced in Iansisle.?"

Black arched an eyebrow. Doesn't exactly ask the easy questions, does he?"Well, thank you very much, sir - in what little way I can take credit for it."

Black arched an eyebrow. Doesn't exactly ask the easy questions, does he?

"Well, all religious practices are officially tolerated, of course," Black said, tapping a thumb on the steering wheel as they waited at a red light. "I'd have to say Roman Catholic is probably the majority, though..." He remembered a bit of his training and stopped cold. "To each their own, I suppose."

((Since we're in a holding patter waiting for Hodgenia anyhow, I though I might enlighten y'all as to Iansisle's political structure - you've probably seen me using terms like the Commonwealth, the Empire, the Shield, Iansisle, and Shadoran, and might have been a bit confused. 'Iansisle' - the nation states account - represents the Iansislean Commonwealth of Nations, which consists of the Grand Empire of the Shield (which may also and confusingly be referenced as 'Iansisle') and the Dominions of Gadsan, Noropia, Troobodia, and Tharia.

The Empire of the Shield consists of seven mostly independent kingdoms, Shadoran, the Foothills, Thortraia, Vesshampton, Wyclyfe, Weshield, and Mansford. 'His Majesty' refers to the King of Shadoran, who is also the High King of the Empire and thus supreme monarch of the realm.

Um, I'm sorry if this's confusing. I have way too much free time on my hands. ;)))

"Interesting, President Jefferson is a devout Catholic. Almost became a priest in fact. Although the majority of the nation is protestant. Presbytarian actually. Although we are very tolerant of all religious practices. So, what exactly do you boys do for fun on your time off?" Bottom was being his usual self, talkitive and inquisitive.

Ambassador Clinton looked out the window and wondered how long before they arived at the meeting place. He hated that we were only travling at 30 mph because it would not allow the full capablities of the limousine to be tested. It was brand new.

(ooc: Hi howdy. Just stoppin' by to let y'all know I've not forgotten about this thread. I'm in the plum middle of my finals season right now, so things are very hectic. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back on later today with a real response; tomorrow at the latest.

Peace, Ian.)

OOC: no prob ian. I just finished mine whoo whoo! :D

((ooc: Lucky dog :P))

The pleasant Shadoran countryside gave way, slowly at first and then with alarming speed, to the urbanized world of the Empire’s first city. All drivers and guides kept up a good chatter, pointing out various sights, explaining local customs, and generally being pleasant.

Black was the first to arrive at the center of parliamentary power. Jameston Place was a tiny cul-de-sac that protruded from Empire after it crossed Gallaga Street. The lawns were vast and well kept. The buildings themselves were Classical Greek in inspiration, though their designers seemed to have neither the instincts for rational design nor the advanced sense of geometry that the ancients possessed.

His Lordship the Earl of Inswick was waiting before a small retinue for Bottom. Once Black pulled up alongside, a footman opened the passanger door and stood rigidly at attention as Bottom got out.

“Corporal Bottom, of Fultonia?” Inswick asked after the other was standing up fully. He made no gesture to shake hands. “Welcome, with the High King’s blessings, to the Grand Empire of the Shield. I am Lord Inswick, His Majesty’s Foreign Minister.”

A short time afterwards, Walker guided his Westerton up to a place behind Black’s. Waiting to greet Marshall was one Sir Humphrey S. Appleton, a senile old man adorned with the star of the Imperial Order. Not that he’d earned it himself, of course: his family were baronets and had passed down the title from father to son after they purchased it from King Toto II, who had needed to finance his Dianatranian War. He wheezed out a greeting - each breath sounding as if it would be his last - in His Majesty’s name and invited Marshall into the meeting hall.

Just a few minutes later, the Hodgeanian limousine pulled up. Their guide was next to panic; the proper welcoming committee was late! But just a few seconds into his cardiac arrest, the young man was relieved to see a shortish man, who had to be in his late forties or early fifties - fairly old for an Iansislean - walking briskly, but not clearly hastily, down the steps from #3 Jameston Place.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” he said without the least tone of remorse in his voice. “I was unavoidable detained. Lord Dirwisham, His Majesty’s Chancellor of the Exchequer and Second Lord of the Treasury. Welcome to the Commonwealth.”

(Grumble.. damn forums...

*Walks out to car... gets baseball bat... walks back into the building and grabs the forums by the scruff of the neck...*

Excuse us...

*Takes forums out to the alley, where multiple smacking sounds are heard..* :P )

(And since Iansisle said I greased the right palms to get in ;) )

A black sportscar followed the limo to Jamestown Place and quickly pulled into the diplomatic area. (should I bring him back... yeah I think I should ;) ) A young Eurasian man stepped out of the car followed by two men in grey suits with briefcases.

Javin Katana approached the group with a grin to Inswick and Dirwisham, "Capital idea this meeting," he said to the group with a smile to Marshall, "It's good to see you again. Recover from the party all right?" (since we were going to have them meet at the party in Imitora and in Tanah Burung, I thought I'd bring him to this too with Jeff gone)

OOC: Javin? I can already see the headlines: "War between Fultonia and Hodgeania cancelled in order to make space for the war between Iansisle and Larkinia"

OOC: Javin? I can already see the headlines: "War between Fultonia and Hodgeania cancelled in order to make space for the war between Iansisle and Larkinia"

((heh heh heh, well between an African-Imitoran (If Imi's sending who I think he is), and an Asian-Larkinian, these conservative types will have their hands full trying to hold back the remarks :P ))

((you do love to make my job easy, don't you? :P I'll have a response for ya after Fultonia and Hodgeania have a chance to chime in.))

EDIT: conjunctions are your FRIEND!

((*taps own chest with fist* It's just cause I got much love for ya ;) ))

((In other news, 'ello?))

I dont think fultonia or hodgania are in on this anymore...I havent heard from either of them lately...anyways, im writting up a serries of stories, first involves Christin, second involves John...So yeah, keep your eyes open.

OOC: I have been given permission by the Hodgeanian Player to start up a puppet government renamed but similar to his as he has "liberated" his people. I'm going to send this to Imi, Ian, and the name of teh new government. sorry yall for the mess up but my comp was/is fried. two months though and it should be up and running. just in time for school. sickening blanch