Alcona and Hubris
19-06-2005, 20:23
Tanah Burung
The village was quiet except for the birds. They were squawking and making calls in the early morning as the sun began to push itself up out of the distant sea. But the birds began to change calls as a group of men and women walked into the center of the village.
They wore no uniform, just wide brimmed hats to keep their light colored skin from burning in this tropical sun. A side arm and a short-sword were their only weapons. Two broke off and walked up to the front door of a local hut. Another two walked up to another hut. The three remaining stood quietly in the center of the village, waiting and watching. One seemed to pay attention to the chicken pecking at something in the dirt. The Brunugi standing next to her looked unhappy with events, but made no motion to stop what was going to happen.
The woman raised her head and nodded. "Natin Atkiri…" shouted one pair as they began pounding on the door.
The second group started to pound on the door before them. An old woman opened the first door and said something in her native tounge. Likely something about knocking on people's doors before the sun had risen into the sky was rude and impolite.
"I need Natin Atkiri now…" was the sharp reply, not unkind, but firm and authoritative. The old woman began to protest. One of the white men waved the interpreter over. "Madam, by the power invested in the Regent's Court, I have a warrant to search this property for Natin Atkiri and detain him, I also have the right to search this property for any and all material and evidence concerning the Rumbiak Brigade." He stated in a dry tone. The two men then pushed by the old lady and into the hut. Leaving the interpreter to explain things to the old lady in whatever local dialect she desired.
The other hut appeared a young woman, obviously she had been sleeping in the nude. "Yes?"
"Patra Kolu…I hereby arrest you in the name of the Regent's Court for activities exporting violence and weapons outside of the nation of Tanah Burung. You have the right to legal consul, if you can not afford consul, the court shall provide consul. You are hereby notified anything you say or do can be used in evidence, you do not have to answer any questions beyond name and age, Do you understand your rights as I have informed you?"
"Do I have the right to get dressed?"
"Sargent, help the lady get some traveling attire on…I should also inform you that I have a warrant to search your premises…"
A man, shot out from between two buildings in the village and ran down the path and into the jungle. Patra screamed something, it sounded like encouragement. There was yelling from the path and the man emerged running back towards the village. He was screaming about small demons waiting for him. He neared the woman standing there quietly. She gripped his arm and let his momentum throw himself to the ground. "Natin Atkiri…you are under arrest…"
Gull Island, South Pacific, Off the Coast of China Wrighty Protectorate of the United Duchies, Six days later
Patra stood on the porch of her building looking out across the almost bare rock and the vast Pacific Ocean beyond. She leaned her back against the rough concrete wall and pondered her new life. I am on a rock in the middle of the Ocean, I had never seen the ocean and now I am living in this place. Only a few patches of thin sand on a pile of rock, here there are no trees…only the wind and the sea and these concrete buildings we are forced to live in She turned to look through the door. The long single room barracks that was now her home seemed so alien. Thirty cots stood two rows, only broken by a large table placed in the center of the room. The concrete walls were peirced by eight windows along each side. A door stood at each end of the building.
Out of the other door she could see the tall fence that cut off this outcrop from the rest of the island. Beyond one could make out identical buildings to the one she lived in. Painted dark blue with wide metal roofs forming wrap around porches. And beyond the sea, everyone one looked, it was just the sea.
Detention center, hmph…more like a prison. I am sure if those imperialists had their way this island would just sink and vanish under the sea….
Her mind wandered back to a few days before, on the day after her arrest. The foreigners had hauled her and Natin to a ship off the coast. On board the vessel, she had been 'arraigned' whatever that word really meant. There was a fellow Burungi standing at a table, and a Knootian standing at a nearby table. Sitting behind a large desk was a small mousy man in a black robe.
Natin had been 'arraigned' first. The Knootian had droned on about how Natin was connected to the brigade. But the mousy man in black kept on asking for "evidence or testimony". The Knootian appeared to have none in the end. The mousy man banged his gavel and set him free. Natin turned and walked into the arms of his wife, whom he had not slept with in over a year. Patra looked over her shoulder, both women looked at each other with loathing.
Patra was 'arraigned' next, but the Alconians had discovered the cache of weapons under her home. It appeared this was enough to 'detain her for trial' the man in black declared. Now she sat and waited on this pile of rock in the middle of the ocean, far from her home. Waiting for her 'trial' in a foreign city people called Torrhall.
Torrhall, Four Months After the Arrest
The ancient city awoke from its slumber. It had rained overnight and the streets were still wet. The day smelt new and fresh. The air was cooler than normal, with a slight breeze in from the south and the sea. The breeze picked up the smell of fresh baked bread from the city's bakeries and pushed it through the narrow streets of the old city. Tea cafes began to open along the cobblestone streets and put out their sidewalk tables and chairs for the morning crowd. An occasional car passed while the newspaper stands started to restock with today's latest edition.
The underground monorail continued its never-ending attempt to get people from one part of the city to another without using congestion causing cars. But now the first trains from the suburbs arrived, carrying the early commuters to work in the old city, in the new modern skyscrapers along the Grand Boulevard, or the factories and lofts along the Torr River. As the great clock of the Temple struck the hour the call of the bugle for Torrhall University pierced the air. Young men and women began to rise and put on their uniforms for morning roll call and breakfast before going to classes this morning.
*****
Patra woke with the sounds of the bell. She lifted her head from the pillow and looked up at the sky through the bars of her new cell. She sat up and looked down at the orange shirt she was wearing. Her clothes from the prison camp had gotten wet on transferring from the airplane to the truck last night. She looked up at the high, brick vault that formed her cell. She stood and walked away from the door to the small window in the other wall. As she walked across the uneven brick floor she looked up and down the space. Bars separated her cell from the long line of cells that seemed to be on this level.
She bent down and looked out the small, barred window. She could see down, across rooftops to a large river running down some massive rocks. On the other side, more old stone buildings climbed up the hill. In the distance a few tall towers could be made out. Built across the rocks was a stone bridge. She turned and placed her hand on the brick wall, it was cool and damp.
Petra looked down at the stainless steel, incinerator toilet that sat in the corner next to her. There was a small wash stand in the opposing corner under a water tap. She walked over and pushed the button on the small spigot set between the bars. Cold water ran into the pan. Petra picked up a washcloth and began to look for soap. Her lawyer would come see her today, hopefully.
*******
In the hotels, flats, and boarding houses of the city alarms were going off. Both defense and prosecution attorneys had to make an 8:00 am assembly before the first day of trials began at the Nawthorne Meeting House. The Meeting House stood not up near the Palace or the Temple of Athena. No, it lay almost at the bottom of the hill, on a small bluff overlooking the river.
OOC: Well the Knootians should be at home with the amenities (as Torrhall is primarily a European city built by the Swedes and preserved like most of Eastern Europe by the mummification of Soviet Socialism but revitalized as capitalism and business flourished)
The Brunugi should find the weather far more pleasant as Hubris is semi-tropical.
The trial of President Alkatiri won't happen for awhile...legally he can't be arrested until after the election. But I am sure that rumor of Knootoss wanting it will dominate things and press coverage.
Secondary Particapants (not Knot, T.B. or A+H): Unless your a Klatchian State, your limited to having press present or perhaps helping out the Burungi defense attourneys.
The village was quiet except for the birds. They were squawking and making calls in the early morning as the sun began to push itself up out of the distant sea. But the birds began to change calls as a group of men and women walked into the center of the village.
They wore no uniform, just wide brimmed hats to keep their light colored skin from burning in this tropical sun. A side arm and a short-sword were their only weapons. Two broke off and walked up to the front door of a local hut. Another two walked up to another hut. The three remaining stood quietly in the center of the village, waiting and watching. One seemed to pay attention to the chicken pecking at something in the dirt. The Brunugi standing next to her looked unhappy with events, but made no motion to stop what was going to happen.
The woman raised her head and nodded. "Natin Atkiri…" shouted one pair as they began pounding on the door.
The second group started to pound on the door before them. An old woman opened the first door and said something in her native tounge. Likely something about knocking on people's doors before the sun had risen into the sky was rude and impolite.
"I need Natin Atkiri now…" was the sharp reply, not unkind, but firm and authoritative. The old woman began to protest. One of the white men waved the interpreter over. "Madam, by the power invested in the Regent's Court, I have a warrant to search this property for Natin Atkiri and detain him, I also have the right to search this property for any and all material and evidence concerning the Rumbiak Brigade." He stated in a dry tone. The two men then pushed by the old lady and into the hut. Leaving the interpreter to explain things to the old lady in whatever local dialect she desired.
The other hut appeared a young woman, obviously she had been sleeping in the nude. "Yes?"
"Patra Kolu…I hereby arrest you in the name of the Regent's Court for activities exporting violence and weapons outside of the nation of Tanah Burung. You have the right to legal consul, if you can not afford consul, the court shall provide consul. You are hereby notified anything you say or do can be used in evidence, you do not have to answer any questions beyond name and age, Do you understand your rights as I have informed you?"
"Do I have the right to get dressed?"
"Sargent, help the lady get some traveling attire on…I should also inform you that I have a warrant to search your premises…"
A man, shot out from between two buildings in the village and ran down the path and into the jungle. Patra screamed something, it sounded like encouragement. There was yelling from the path and the man emerged running back towards the village. He was screaming about small demons waiting for him. He neared the woman standing there quietly. She gripped his arm and let his momentum throw himself to the ground. "Natin Atkiri…you are under arrest…"
Gull Island, South Pacific, Off the Coast of China Wrighty Protectorate of the United Duchies, Six days later
Patra stood on the porch of her building looking out across the almost bare rock and the vast Pacific Ocean beyond. She leaned her back against the rough concrete wall and pondered her new life. I am on a rock in the middle of the Ocean, I had never seen the ocean and now I am living in this place. Only a few patches of thin sand on a pile of rock, here there are no trees…only the wind and the sea and these concrete buildings we are forced to live in She turned to look through the door. The long single room barracks that was now her home seemed so alien. Thirty cots stood two rows, only broken by a large table placed in the center of the room. The concrete walls were peirced by eight windows along each side. A door stood at each end of the building.
Out of the other door she could see the tall fence that cut off this outcrop from the rest of the island. Beyond one could make out identical buildings to the one she lived in. Painted dark blue with wide metal roofs forming wrap around porches. And beyond the sea, everyone one looked, it was just the sea.
Detention center, hmph…more like a prison. I am sure if those imperialists had their way this island would just sink and vanish under the sea….
Her mind wandered back to a few days before, on the day after her arrest. The foreigners had hauled her and Natin to a ship off the coast. On board the vessel, she had been 'arraigned' whatever that word really meant. There was a fellow Burungi standing at a table, and a Knootian standing at a nearby table. Sitting behind a large desk was a small mousy man in a black robe.
Natin had been 'arraigned' first. The Knootian had droned on about how Natin was connected to the brigade. But the mousy man in black kept on asking for "evidence or testimony". The Knootian appeared to have none in the end. The mousy man banged his gavel and set him free. Natin turned and walked into the arms of his wife, whom he had not slept with in over a year. Patra looked over her shoulder, both women looked at each other with loathing.
Patra was 'arraigned' next, but the Alconians had discovered the cache of weapons under her home. It appeared this was enough to 'detain her for trial' the man in black declared. Now she sat and waited on this pile of rock in the middle of the ocean, far from her home. Waiting for her 'trial' in a foreign city people called Torrhall.
Torrhall, Four Months After the Arrest
The ancient city awoke from its slumber. It had rained overnight and the streets were still wet. The day smelt new and fresh. The air was cooler than normal, with a slight breeze in from the south and the sea. The breeze picked up the smell of fresh baked bread from the city's bakeries and pushed it through the narrow streets of the old city. Tea cafes began to open along the cobblestone streets and put out their sidewalk tables and chairs for the morning crowd. An occasional car passed while the newspaper stands started to restock with today's latest edition.
The underground monorail continued its never-ending attempt to get people from one part of the city to another without using congestion causing cars. But now the first trains from the suburbs arrived, carrying the early commuters to work in the old city, in the new modern skyscrapers along the Grand Boulevard, or the factories and lofts along the Torr River. As the great clock of the Temple struck the hour the call of the bugle for Torrhall University pierced the air. Young men and women began to rise and put on their uniforms for morning roll call and breakfast before going to classes this morning.
*****
Patra woke with the sounds of the bell. She lifted her head from the pillow and looked up at the sky through the bars of her new cell. She sat up and looked down at the orange shirt she was wearing. Her clothes from the prison camp had gotten wet on transferring from the airplane to the truck last night. She looked up at the high, brick vault that formed her cell. She stood and walked away from the door to the small window in the other wall. As she walked across the uneven brick floor she looked up and down the space. Bars separated her cell from the long line of cells that seemed to be on this level.
She bent down and looked out the small, barred window. She could see down, across rooftops to a large river running down some massive rocks. On the other side, more old stone buildings climbed up the hill. In the distance a few tall towers could be made out. Built across the rocks was a stone bridge. She turned and placed her hand on the brick wall, it was cool and damp.
Petra looked down at the stainless steel, incinerator toilet that sat in the corner next to her. There was a small wash stand in the opposing corner under a water tap. She walked over and pushed the button on the small spigot set between the bars. Cold water ran into the pan. Petra picked up a washcloth and began to look for soap. Her lawyer would come see her today, hopefully.
*******
In the hotels, flats, and boarding houses of the city alarms were going off. Both defense and prosecution attorneys had to make an 8:00 am assembly before the first day of trials began at the Nawthorne Meeting House. The Meeting House stood not up near the Palace or the Temple of Athena. No, it lay almost at the bottom of the hill, on a small bluff overlooking the river.
OOC: Well the Knootians should be at home with the amenities (as Torrhall is primarily a European city built by the Swedes and preserved like most of Eastern Europe by the mummification of Soviet Socialism but revitalized as capitalism and business flourished)
The Brunugi should find the weather far more pleasant as Hubris is semi-tropical.
The trial of President Alkatiri won't happen for awhile...legally he can't be arrested until after the election. But I am sure that rumor of Knootoss wanting it will dominate things and press coverage.
Secondary Particapants (not Knot, T.B. or A+H): Unless your a Klatchian State, your limited to having press present or perhaps helping out the Burungi defense attourneys.