NationStates Jolt Archive

"I'm sick of these piss-ants!" Napoleon IV slammed his fist down on his desk. "I have done everything I could to help Haven...to do something to make people realize I want to do something for the common good. I have spent millions of Reichsmarks...and nothing has worked."

"Highness," Prince Henri de Ritorneau interrupted, "It doesn't matter now. We must figure out what to do."

"They have spent so much time convincing themselves of their myth about the evil Prussians. If they want the evil Prussians, they will D*MN well get it!" Napoleon stood up from his chair indignantly and pointed his finger at Ritorneau. "And let the world know that it was their fault! Their wish has come true! The Communists will get what they want...they will get their precious land back...but they will learn the price of Defying Napoleon, they will learn the price of Defying the Greater Prussian Empire!"
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*Greater Prussian Edolian City of Berg*

All week, the news out of the Imperial Embassy had been nonexistant. In a beaurocracy gone wild like Greater Prussia, the absence of constant directives and reminders from Reichsburg was conspicuous indeed. The Town Council had been called for an Emergency meeting by the only directive out of the Embassy that week. As the assembly came to order, a man dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Guard walked into the room. It was clear from the ornamentation on the uniform, it was that of a General. "Governor Zaxby." the Chairman of the council greeted the man who walked in. "What is the occasion for the uniform?"

The man, Roland Zaxby, former military Governor of Edolia, and now just the Governor of Berg, did not answer. Stonefaced, he approached the bench where the main members of the council sat. "By order of His Imperial Majesty Napoleon IV, Emperor of Greater Prussia, there shall go out a tax over all the land. A 50% Income tax will be leveled on all citizens of the occupied territories in Haven. And this council, fat with its war profits and its profits from our Prussian industries will be taxed for 100% of its present income, and 100% of all previous income. The treasuries of every local and state government are to be emptied."

The jaws of all in the room fell open. "You have no right, and I will not allow it!" the Chairman of the council shouted.

"I speak for your Sovreign, Napoleon IV...and he has every right, and you will allow it or you, your families, and everyone here will take up permanent residence in the Capitol Prison."

*Greater Prussian Held Edolian Channel Islands*

"Dammit! Hold it up higher, you're going to crush him!" the foreman shouted as he rushed to help hold up one of the giant pieces of the Titan cannon they were disassembling. The Imperial Corp of Engineers had descended on the islands and every other Imperial territory in Haven about a week ago and were working as if their lives depended upon it. They had a direct order from the Emperor himself to disassemble all military assets and return them to Greater Prussia, or destroy them.

There were further orders waiting for them, but they were sealed in an envelope on the desk of the commander of the Corp. He had orders not to open it until the first mission was accomplished. The Imperial Guardsmen stationed there were providing all the help they could, but most of them now served as tax collectors, enforcing the new decree passed down to them very recently. Town after town, and city after city had their treasuries emptied electronically and physically. Most of the prep work had been done before the announcement, so the actual collection process took only two days, in which time, very little of the wealth could have been hidden away. The troops entered the area museums and seized all of the artwork and sent it on a ship back to Prussia.

On these channel islands, there was a great deal of fishing, but even more farming. The fertility of the land decided how the year of the inhabitants would be. Harvest time had just ended, and all of the harvests were safely taken in, but most not yet sold. It was at this juncture that a writ of confiscation was issued by the Imperial Governor of the Channel Islands that gave the Imperial Guard the authorization to seize every crop and grain storehouse in the islands for "the use of the Greater Prussian Government".

Offshore, minelayers had almost completed the encirclement of every island with floating mines. Plus, every common fishing place had been mined as well. There was still one great passage left on every island for traffic to come in and out, but it was zealously guarded in every occasion by a Greater Prussian Man of War that would shoot even a fishing boat to pieces if it sought to sail through without permission. Subsequently, no permissions were granted.

The town councils of the islands saw that they were indeed in dire straights. They couldn't fish to feed the islands, and they had no crops. They had but one option, and that was to revolt, but given the overwhelming numbers of the Imperial Guard, and the superiority of their armoured positions, it was suicide.

Then, a letter arrived from the Imperial Governor. He said he would sell the crops back to the island...only at thrice the fair market price. Now the councils, with their stripped treasuries couldn't pay this, and were then forced to levy a local tax in addition to the 50% Imperial tax on their citizens. It took time and penny penching, but the money was collected and the crops were returned.

The Imperial Governor now knew that due to his actions, he nolonger had any friends among the people of the islands. But it didn't matter to him anymore. All the help that he had given them was wasted.

With over 70% of the islander's income now taxed away, the economy was in a downward spiral. Then, four days after the crops had been bought back, Imperial decrees landed in the hands of all Prussian businessmen in the Islands that they were to pay any and all outstanding debts, and then leave, demolishing anything that they would have to leave behind if it was of Prussian Construction. If the structure predated the arrival of the Empire, it was to be left alone. They were assured that they would be doubly compensated for the loss of property.

Now, the bottom fell out. Unemployment surged and the economy became a shambles.

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*Ministry of Finanace, Reichsburg*

"I have never done so much paperwork in my life...and Im an accountant." muttered one of the temps that had been hired by the ministry to handle the sudden flood of work.

"Well, soon it will be done." his supervisor said, patting him on the back. The Supervisor walked along rows and rows of desks with men at computers crunching numbers left and right. Finally, he walked through a glass door at the very end of the room.

"Roger, do we have anything concrete yet?" a man in a suit behind a large desk asked as soon as the supervisor walked in.

"Its not all concrete, but we have more than we did. We've taken 70% and more of the gross domestic product of what would be considered a moderate sized country if it had independance. It takes time to crunch the numbers, but we have 100 trillion we are sure about, and we estimate that the total will float at somewhere around the 150 trillion mark. But when reach the next step, we will have about 200 trillion or more coming in from this operation."

"The Emperor will be pleased."

"The next stage of the plan is ready, Highness." Charles Lebrun said with a wide smile on his face. He approached the desk where the Emperor Napoleon sat, his gaze fixed on something out the window.

"There will be no next phase." the Emperor said in a rather detached fashion, his attention more on whatever it was flirting about his window than on the Finance Minister of Greater Prussia.

"What!?" Lebrun exclaimed incredulously. "We have already raked in 150 trillion dollars, and we can rake in about 50 trillion more. The plan is fool proof. As you legally own every square inch of that land, you just have to issue a property tax twice that of its current rate...maybe thrice...and then when they cant pay, the property defaults even in its deed to the Empire. From there, we seize whatever we want from every single property and then, since our men control the banking system, we just open up the banks, take the funds, and skedadle."

"Infact, we may get 100 trillion more" the Emperor announced, turning to face Lebrun for the first time in the conversation. "But at what price?" With that he turned and looked out the window again. This time it was clear that whatever he was looking at wasn't really there. It was a projection of his mind. "It doesn't matter how many rifle muzzles we put in their faces. If we do anything further, then they will revolt. There are already protests nationwide. We put them down, but if it resurfaces and becomes violent...we have no recourse but to kill everyone who rises up. Im not prepared to shed blood for any amount of money. Not theirs, and especially not my own. Our operation is over."

The Emperor finally wheeled his chair away from the window and looked Lebrun square in the eye. "You would steal the bracelet off your dieing grandmother wouldn't you."

Lebrun looked away, self consciously. "If it is Your Highness's intent to upset me, you have done so."

"It is my intent..." Napoleon leaned forward with a steely look in his eye "It is my intent to make you aware that I am watching you. The only reason you aren't in a tavern drinking your two pence a week is because I found you! I made you! Everything you have, you owe to me. And if it were differant, if Marcus Antonius was here, and I was in the Capitol Prison...you wouldn't think twice before you served that maggot and stole everything I owned. Your duplicity is far from secret...and I must inform you that the price you must pay is far from paid in full."

Lebrun sat there, indignant, and finally retorted. "I serve no man. My only mistress is the Greater Prussian Empire."

Napoleon rose from his desk, menacingly and leaned forward. If his eyes had been lazers, Lebrun would be a cinder, such was the intensity of the glare the Emperor gave the man. "I...AM Greater Prussia. I AM the Empire! Je suis l'etat, et l'etat, c'est moi!" The Emperor leaned back, his eyes softening a bit, but still quite confrontational in their appearance. "Ive known you for 20 years. And I know what you've done to me...yes...that too...Everything. This is your chance to prove yourself. Do it, and I may consider letting you keep what you have."

bum,p

"Give it BACK!?" Lebrun almost fell out of his chair. After one confrontational meeting with the Emperor, he had landed himself in another.

"Yes." the Emperor almost whimpered. "I was wrong. This isn't the right thing to do."

"How can you just give back 150 trillion dollars!?"

"Well. we aren't going to give it all back." Napoleon wheeled back around in his chair. "There are about 50 trillion dollars those people would have never seen, blown away in beaurocratic sink holes. We will take 100 trillion, and redistribute it. Give it to the poor, give it to the badly off, and give what's left to the rich. Those Communists are used to the redistribution of wealth. I don't like it...but I've wronged those people. Emperors aren't impervious to sin."

"This is madness, I can't do this!" Lebrun nearly flipped his wig.

Napoleon didn't say a word, but opened up his desk drawer and retrieved a file. The top was stamped "Confidential". The name on the tab was "Charles Lebrun".

"Says here..." Napoleon opened up the manilla folder. "that you hold the Duchy of West Haxia...your total property and personal holdings value about 1 billion dollars...including another four billion in Swiss banks."

Lebrun rose out of his chair, "How did you find that out!"

"My Gendarmes have friends in Switzerland." He put the folder away. "If you were so willing to do this to these people...then I think the sale of all of your personal property will more than help several poor families in our Edolian territories."

"You two faced son of a b****! You were going to sell them up the river quicker than I was."

"I am selling a good deal of my property too. I'm matching your contribution to the fund two fold...that's 10 billion out of my personal treasury Atleast I had the decency to realize what was wrong and what was right...you are perpetually crooked." Napoleon grinned, a bit self satisfied.

"How dare you!"

"How dare I? How dare I??" the Emperor laughed loud enough for people to hear two blocks away. "You are lucky that you will walk from this room drawing breath. You are to be exhiled. If you are ever seen on Imperial territory again, you will be shot at sight. Get out of my office."

Imperial Guardsmen then promptly drug the man out of the office kicking and screaming. As soon as the door was closed, a panel on the side of the wall swung open and an old man, slightly heavy sat, and badly balding walked into the room. "You know you need to give the other 50 trillion back too." he said, limping towards the Emperor's desk. "That isn't the Christian thing to do. If the people were never going to see a cent of it...give it to them. The public is a fickle body. The month of ill fortune you have given them will soon be forgotten by the reception of these gifts."

"Thankyou, Dr. Paisley." Napoleon buried his head in his hands.

"You are an Emperor...but you are nothing." Dr. Paisley said. "Remember he who wields all true power watches you. Your crown is as rust next to his...and your crimes will be brought to judgement as well."

"How could I have done this?" Napoleon lamented.

"The devil took hold of you. Your power intoxicated you." Dr. Paisley said in his soft, Northern Irish accent.

"Perhaps if we hold the people, we don't have to withdraw." Napoleon looked up, as to his father.

"No, lad. You must leave there. There is nothing you can do anymore. It's good to hold the people, but you must hold the ruling councils as well. And I dont think you want to be accused of destroying democracy in addition to everything else. Your name may be recalled with fondness when the reds return...but there is nothing there for us anylonger."

"I have plenty of money." Napoleon's thoughts turned towards the 10 billion he had promised to donate on the spur of the moment. "But can I spare 10 billion?"

"Consider it a tithe. Give it to missionaries, give it to Churches there, give it to the Salvation Army...give it to God's work. And as to Lebrun's money, buy food with it, and ship it in to the territories right before we leave. Give it away. You can't outgive God Napoleon...Let us consider this the Empire paying its tithe."

"ThankGod you came to me in time." Napoleon still shook his head. "A day later, and I doubt I could have countermanded the orders to the businesses and the army to dismantle everything."

"The key is, not to speak of it as a change of heart. Just make it seem to the Communists that this was your intent all along, without actually claiming it was. Doing that would be lieing and we have piled on enough sin for one month."

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All over the territories, people began getting refund checks from the Imperial Government, most people making soaring profits. The slump was over as the Economy roared forward again. After being artificially stopped, it was artificially restarted.

Papers cheered Napoleon as a hero of the people, putting low the wealthy and raising up the poor. Public sentiment began to turn around somewhat, but he still didn't have the ruling councils.

It was January 6th when word came in from the Imperial Embassy in Berg that all Imperial Military assets had been removed or destroyed.

Tommorrow, Napoleon would finally announce his plans to the world.

"Would you like a glass of warm milk?" Bourienne asked the Emperor as the sheets were being drawn down on his bed.

"No thankyou." Napoleon muttered. "Get some sleep. You need it."

Bourienne bowed deeply. "I will, and I do. Sleep well Highness." With that, Napoleon's secretary walked out of the door and closed it behind him. The Emperor crawled into the freshly turned down bed and laid his head upon the pillow.

"Would you like candlelight to read by?" the last Footman in the room asked.

"No, thankyou. Have a good night."

The candles were blown out and the room descended into darkness. Almost as soon as the door closed behind the footman, the Emperor slipped into a deep sleep.

All at once, he stood on a rocky outcropping, looking out at the horizon while below him waves broke ferociously on the rocks, sending a fine salty mist onto his face and in his nostrils. A quick glance around showed that he was either on a very small peninsula, or an island. He couldn't quite tell yet which due to the limits of his own vision. After standing there a moment, he turned around and walked inland, the dewy grass bending beneath his boots. There were a few trees off in the distance, and beside them, he saw what looked to be like a small garden.

Curious, he walked towards the garden to see if there were any further signs of life. The closer he got, the more the morning mists parted to reveal...something...in the distance. Almost taking his pace to a jog, the Emperor now clearly saw that it was a house...a very old one indeed. 'Could it be?' he thought to himself. He now broke into a full out gallop.

He tripped. The toe of his boot snagged on a tree root and he nearly fell on a man infront of him, that he apparantly hadn't noticed before. The Emperor pulled himself up to a sitting position, wiping the dirt from his face.

"You nearly fell on my tulips." the man infront of him said in an odd Italian accent. "Watch your step, my boy."

"It really is you." the Emperor said below his breath.

"Yes." the man replied. "And if you are going to use my name, I'd appreciate it if you kept your face clean." he wiped a hunk of dirt from the side of the Prussian Emperor's face.
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"Would you like some Brandy?"

"Please." the Prussian Emperor replied.

"You clean up nicely, you know...infact you are a spitting image of me at your age."

"Thankyou." Napoleon IV was still a bit flabberghasted. It isn't every day that one meets the First Emperor of the French. "Emperor Napleon, how do you know my name?"

"Well, Charles...I hope it is ok if I call you that to avoid confusion...I know more than just your name. I've been watching you. I must say though, I am still shocked that my family inheritance is in Germanic lands though." Napoleon the First took a sip of his own Brandy.

"You've been watching me?" Charles-Napoelon asked, a bit shocked.

"Indeed. You have managed to assert yourself as the Emperor of Billions, and quite solidly may I add. But has no one ever taught you there is more to being Napoleon than being intelligent and wearing a crown on your head?"

"It's become rather apparant as of late." Charles lowered his head a bit.

"And you have been doing better. But that whole debacle in Haven is ridiculous. The Empire could have held her ground indefinately there, no matter how pissed those Communists were at the time. Eventually, they would move on to better targets. You never had to withdraw...and you still don't have to. It's a shame you withdrew from and gave up what you did."

"I gave in."

"Damn right you did! You can't listen to every enemy of the state and cowardly advisor who happens to listen to them as well. You are the Emperor. You ARE the Empire. It is your job to listen to every side of the story...but then to decide which side YOU like best and not which side anyone else...even Paisley likes best. Do your duty to God...but also do your duty to your people."

Charles raised his head up. "You're right Uncle, but the only problem is, the Pressure from mainland Edolia is starting to mount, and I know that if we don't get out of there now, we will be forced out and disgraced."

"You must leave your current territory. But you can still take new ones...and you may want to think about exactly how much of your territory you can actually keep."

"I am tired of dealing with these Havenites. I can do nothing good in their eyes." Charles conceded to Napoleon.

"So. Do what you have been doing. Don't deal with them. Just keep what you can there, and if they do something to threaten Imperial interest, you have a striking point to keep them on their toes with."

"Why are we here." Charles asked, changing the subject.

"Because I want to show you what the best option you have is if you fail. I want to show you what I became because of my mistakes. I was too belligerant, I listened when I should have acted, I acted when I should have listened. I am all the wiser for it now, but wisdom is nothing in the hands of a pauper on St. Helena. I was the master of Europe...now I have a garden. Which would you prefer? I give the wisdom I have to you...but before you can recieve it...you must find that vascillating Bourbon King that infests your soul, and kill him. You must become Emperor of the Greater Prussians...not Emperor of Greater Prussia." Napoleon took a pair of scissors and took off a lock of his hair. The hair remained in the grasp of the scissors, even though it had been cut. "As Samson said, here lies my strength."

Suddenly, Napoleon lunged at Charles, jamming the scissors into his neck.

"What are you doing!" Charles gurgled out through the blood and steel.

"I'm killing the King and giving birth to the Emperor!" with that he opened the blades of the scisors inside his neck.

The Emperor shot upright in bed. Sweat poured down his face and his nightgown clung to his body. Almost instinctively, he felt his neck where the scissors had gone in his dream. As he pulled his hands away, he noticed a small dot of blood on his finger.