NationStates Jolt Archive

From the desk of Governer McLagherty

Hello and good day my fellow world leaders. For countless centuries now, the Principality of Industrial Experiment has stood as the sole bastion of Imperial power on the Earth. For years we have been limited to the level of technology that we currently retain, anything more advanced being forbidden. However, we have made do. From Mar Bristo, our Romanesque capitol, to Mar Anglo, our Phonecian port city, to Mar Saxi, our largest (and only) spaceport, technology has been a guiding hand in the paradise that is the Principality.

In fact, the only portion of our great colony that isn't an idealized nirvana is our military. We inherited the old armed forces of the Republic before it had moved off of Earth thousands of years ago, and the only reason they remain in any usable condition is because of accelerated stasis and poingnant attention by the crews of Mar Anglo. The navy, always the pride of Industrialites everywhere, is perhaps the best representative of the hieght of pre-space Imperial technology. It stands for everything the Industrialite military loved and cared for, matched only by the percision of the small but highly trained and organized army.

And it hasn't sat idle.

No, the world is a turbulent place, one where a man is only guarenteed happiness if he grabs it for himself. That has become the guiding principle in the Principality's foriegn policy, we do not interfere in the internal affairs of other nations and only go to war to defend another nation's sovereignty. Unfortunately, due to the current conditions of the modern world, we seem to be a fairly unique nation.

It seems many other nations find it their duece-given duty to interfere, to influence, to outright destroy other nations for completely internal affairs. As such, the navy, the army, and the AAS wings of the airforce have seen action on countless fronts, defending the freedom of self-determination in countries the globe over.

It is a tiring practice.

The greatest source of conflicts in the world today seems to be a leftover the Cold War, a feeling of tension between communists and capitalists. As a communo-meritocratic nation ourselves, we do not feel threatened, but given their behavior, we do not feel we owe anything to our comrades in red. We have assisted capitalists as much as we have aided communists.

Conflicts arising from true international sources are becoming increasingly rare, it would seem almost like something resembling world peace could be achieved if a non-interventionalist attitude could be bestowed across the world.

As such, after discussing it with my citizens, I propose a global alliance of nations who are dedicated to a non-interventionalist attitude on internal conflicts and intrigue and defensive wars against interventionalist nations in the favor of the attacked. Exact specifications of a charter can be drawn up by initial participating nations, but I will also propose a government structure for the organization myself. The details will be listed in the datafile at the end of this announcement.

I am sorry to say, but I will be unable to accept any nations smaller than a certain number into the organization, based upon my reluctance to put any such nations into danger. However, they may apply for the secondary function of this alliance.

Yes, there is a secondary function. In addition to taking an oath of non-intervention, defense of organization members, and an oath to not attack other members, the pledges of this organization will all become part of a war council. Non-member nations may sue for assistance in a defensive conflict that resulted from the intervention by another nation in that nation's internal affairs. The war council will judge these cases and, should they be passed, appoint several nations or accept volunteer nations to help end the conflict in favor of the defending nation.

Thank you for your time, and I beg you consider joining, if only for the betterment of every nation and Earth as a whole. If you are interested in joining, please send an envoy to the port city of Mar Anglo. Your representative will be met and escorted to the capitol city of Mar Brito in an Industrialite armored car, to prevent knowledge of which passes lead to where in the nation. I will meet with your envoy to discuss their entry into the alliance.

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OoC:

Yes, the datafile is OoC, it's easier for everyone this way.

First, as far as the structure of the organization goes, it is really quite simple. Each member nation becomes part of the War Council, where every nation has a single vote. One nation is elected chairman for twenty years (with 1 RL day == 1 NS year), and they are basically the spokesperson of the alliance and also the moderator of council meetings. They are not allowed the normal one vote, but instead a tie breaker vote. The chairman cannot vote in elections for the next chairman.

If a war is voted on, then the chairman opens the floor to volunteers. If there are none, then he appoints an appropriate number of nations to the conflict. The appointees are voted on by the War Council. If The group is passed, then they become involved in the conflict on the nation who made the initial suit's side.

In the case of joining the alliance, I am going to be rather strict as I don't want this to be a large alliance full of everyone and their mother but rather a streamlined alliance of capable RPers. Anyone under 100 million in population will be immediately rejected unless they show unusually large amounts of writing talent and can show IC military prowess for their size.

The test for entry will be to RP your representative's arrival in Mar Anglo with me, then RP their travel through the mountains and their arrival in Mar Brito. Be aware that both Mar Anglo and Mar Brito are rather ancient looking cities, with Mar Anglo resembling Tyre, the main city of ancient Phonecia, and Mar Brito being a close replica of ancient Rome. Do not worry, though, they both have all the modern amenities of an advanced first world nation. If you RP this well, you will be accepting. If you fail, you will have to try again later.

In the future, when the alliance has grown slightly, I will appoint others to judge positions to judge RPers.

Here is a short datafile on Mar Anglo:



Mar Anglo, sole port city of the Principality

Mar Anglo is located on the Western Coast of the small island-continent that the Principality is located on, and is one of only three actual Industrialite cities in the colony. The rest of the continent is covered in mountainious terrian.

Mar Anglo itself occupies a coastal flood plain that, it is believed, was spared from mountainy occupation due to its being a salt-marsh in the distant past. Now it closely resembles the ancient Phonecian city of Tyre, the coastal plain it is on even has the same basic shape as the island on which that ancient city was set. Though it has all the amenities of a modern nation (OoC: Modern refering to a 2030-ish time period. The colony itself is post-modern, but the military is modern), it has a definitive classical air about it.

The massive dock facilities, the most impressive feature of the city, are rated at able to handle all buy the largest classes of ships. One mayor in the past boasted that the docks would only require a small modification to handle a Doujin Class Dreadnought. Though they appear to be mere wood and rope constructions, this is a facade put in place to maintain the rustic demonaire of the city. Massive amounts of trade pass through these docks and the attached bazaar facilities.

The main government buildings are located only a couple blocks away in what looks to be a reconstruction of the Pharos from ancient Alexandria. However, instead of having a bonfire on the top, it is instead crowned by the world's largest diamond, or so it would appear. Though the diamond is synthetic, it maintains all the qualities of its natural companions, and many of the world's greatest jewelers would have many troubles trying to distinguish it from a real diamond. This structure serves to fulfill all the municipal functions needed in Mar Anglo.

OOC: Can we RP it however we like? Such as taking a boat to the city? Is there any guideline you want us to follow?

OoC: Nope, no guidelines, do it as you wish. Be aware that the only airport is in Mar Brito, though, and we allow no flights over our territory, so you can't fly in exceptin a seaplane.

Warren Strobel had grown weary of traveling on ships all of the time. Hainan was considered a naval power, and travelling by ship was considered the only justifiable way for diplomats to get around, hence, any diplomat of Hainan being late for any meeting/conference. Not to mention, Warren gets sea sick a lot. By the time he arrives at his destination, he would already have lost about 5-10 pounds. This time, he was bent on not throwing up. Warren had read a few books about conquering sea sickness, however, it was quite ironic that Mr. Strobel couldn't read unless he was on solid ground, or else he would throw up. It was a lose-lose situation for him.

Warren walked around on deck, and noticed the sun high in the sky, with practically nothing in the sky, except for a few small clouds here and there. He looked over the boat, but hesitated. He hadn't yet thrown up on this voyage, and he was doing pretty well. To his utter suprise, he looked out into the ocean, and seen a few dolphins playing, and following the ship. He felt like he was finally going to conquer his 'falt at sea', however, almost immediately, as if the dolphins commanded it from him, he ran to the side of the ship, and threw up. The dolphins gave him a menacing look, and disappeared.

Oh God, he thought. We're gonna get some bad luck. I seemed to have scared the dolphins.. I'm sure they don't appreciate me throwing me stomach bile into their environment...but then again, they 'do their business' in their home anyways... I suppose it makes you think..

"Sir, we're close to arriving at Mar Anglo. The approximate time of arrival is 3 minutes."

"Thank you Captain. Prepare the docking equipment."

He looked over to the other side of the ship, failing to realize how close he was to the continent. It was massive. In a distance, you could see a city, but overlapping practically the entire continent were massive mountains. He had never seen such a chain of mountains.

1 minute til docking!

Warren took a quick glance back into the sea, and to his avail, he swore that he seen the same dolphins looking at him. He raised his fist, and shook it at them, vowing his revenge.

The ship began to slow down, and prepare its usual docking procedure, as he finally arrived at Mar Anglo. It seemed as if the nation of Industrial Experiment was prepared for the arrival.

Warren Strobel walked out of the ship, after it finally finished docking, and began to look around at the entire city...

[OOC: I'm not sure if the view of the world I(OOCly)/we(ICly) have is entirely compatible, but what the hell. That never stopped me in the past...

Oh, and, might be wise for you not to make assumptions regarding the reason for the Ambassador's visit (which isn't at all nefarious)...]

IC:

The good ship slipped through the surf with nary the resistance of an eel, stabilizers ensuring that virtually no motion was felt by those aboard. It was a cool afternoon - as ever, cool for the part of the world one found ones self in - and the Sun gave Her warmth up only as gladly as one might expect, given the early morning breeze. The Sun was rising still; it was not yet past ten in the morning here, the Ambassador guessed, as she ran her fingers through her hair and gazed out at the sea.

She was not, however, atop the vessel. Instead, she was in a special room which merely displayed brilliantly sharp images on each wall; the effect was very near to being outside - there was even that almost chilly ocean breeze, with the soft scent of salt wafting up her nostrils.

She wrinkled her nose, stretching out her legs as she relaxed.

This was beyond all doubt the most comfortable warship ever built by the Iluvauromeni; she couldn't possibly see it any other way. She had been aboard naval vessels, both ocean-going and space-going, before; they were often cramped for the most part (although there were always larger, airy rooms), usually uncomfortably warm or cold (the temperature seemed to vary from ship to ship, she had noticed), never all that pleasant to be aboard for too long.

Unless you liked that kind of thing; but then, you'd be a sailor if you did. She was not a sailor. 7th Ambassador Lis Darala-Rihad was anything but a sailor; second daughter of a prominent businessman from the noble Great House Rihad, her mother a poet from the minor House Darala, she had been born to be a diplomat.

Her father had taken her on great journeys around Iluvauromen (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Iluvauromen), from the moutain villages of Mejeda and Kilin to the plains where the sprawling cities of Turath (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Turath), Tek (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Tek), and Shelbattanu-Rhea lived. She was, therefore, at ease in a crowd - you had to be, if you had spent any time whatsoever in the densely populated second capital, Tek - and equally at ease when almost nobody was around.

But above all she loved the capital, Nenya (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Nenya). She had been there but once, for the city was young again, rejuvinated following its long years of emptiness and repopulated with a vengeance over the last two years, thanks to generous government projects. She loved best the view of the Great North Range (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Great_North_Range) over the shimmering blue of the great Nenyan lake, Aelinenya. She sighed softly, knowing that her time in this room would shortly end.

It was time already, she realized, as she glanced at her wrist. The small implant reacted to the brush of her thumb, tiny diodes creating an image of the time on her very skin. She much preferred this to a watch; but the method didn't look like taking off with most of the population back home - there was already a strong anti-implant movement, even though the surgery techniques involved were very new. Perhaps because the techniques were new, she decided.

Sighing again - she had heard rumours that the Dth'gari Humans said this was a Nenyan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Nenyan) racial trait - she made her way through the wall and into the main corridor again, by way of a small device on her wrist. The device simply ordered the atoms in the wall to divide - and so they did. The technology was actually remarkably easy to implement, but was only used in high security areas. Such as her personal quarters. Doors - for only door-shaped segments of the walls operated this way - were not marked, so if you did not know your way around the ship, it was easy to become confused; this was to make boarding more difficult, she understood. She also understood that the method was inexpensive, despite its flashy appearance - although still, of course, expensive in comparison to cutting a hole in the wall and fitting a door.

She made her way quietly through the drab corridor - this was not an area of the ship which outsiders were permitted to see - and again through a wall, into the primary corridor. From here, one could gain access to any part of the ship, through various ladders, walkways, and corridors which connected to it. The ship wasn't very big for an ICEL (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Iluvauromeni_Commonality_of_Everlasting_Light) warship, being only four hundred metres in length, but there were seven decks, making her unusually 'tall'. Three-fifths of the ship were below the waterline, however.

Lis - pronounced the same way as 'lease' - clambered up a ladder, and tapped against the wall opposite in the corridor in which she emerged. There was no reply, which was exactly what she had hoped; they were indeed on time. The captain, by now, would be above decks, no doubt complaining at the sight of the ocean; for an ocean-faring man, he was surprisingly uncomfortable with the sight of the sea. Lis understood this - this was a racial trait, unlike sighing, which was cultural - but she had always thought that seagoers were more comfortable than the rest of the Nenyan population.

Climbing above deck, Lis sucked in a full breath of air, a small shiver running down her spine. It was good to be on - or rather, exceedingly near to - land again. She cast her gaze out at the port, for the ship was already docked; she wondered how the ship would look to those who gazed out at it, for it resembled ancient ironclads more than a modern ship, with its smooth upper deck like some insane hump reaching out of the water, and its complete lack of conning tower. The ship, she knew, was designed this way intentionally, for none of the seams where her gunports lay were visible thanks to careful design: angles distracted the eye here and there, and so you did not notice them, unless you knew they were there. None of the sensor nodes were deployed, either, she observed, as she gazed back at the deckplating; and, with greater attention paid, she realized that she could not see the gunports because they weren't deployed: instead, only the defensive clusters were visible - small, almost invisible scratch marks criss-crossing the hull, joining with others in some places and ceasing suddenly in others.

She sighed, and was distinctly glad that this was, according to the intel, a peaceful place.

Having been distracted by her thoughts before, she again cast her gaze out at the port before her, and that which she could see of the city...

Left, right, through that crowd, over the bridge, past the Pharos, through the navy docks, all the way up to the civilian reception center.

Life was quite confusing for a Guard Unit assigned to Mar Anglo. Since the city was based off of the ancient city of Tyre, it didn't have the simple layout of Mar Saxi or even the public transit system of Mar Brito. Instead, the armored convoy had to move through the crowded city, pushing past other traffic as their diplomatic business took priority. The seemingly confusing highway system of Mar Anglo was, to a native, understandable enough, but toss in all the exceptions to the traffic laws and it became enough to drive a man insane.

Marvin smirked at the thought.

His commander was already insane, so it didn't matter.

Marvin sat in the front seat of a gyro-limo, a long silver machine capable of going in any direction except up. He was designated as the official bodyguard of whatever dignitary they were picking up, a Hainanian diplomat according to his briefing. It was expected, of course, that other ambassadors would arrive, so he was provided with an interlink hub to hang off his belt that his helmet's HUD was directly wired into. He would be provided with any information that the higher ups thought he needed.

In fact, just then a line of green text scrolled before his eyes, informing him that a Ma-tek diplomat had also just arrived. He was to meet both and escort them to the mountain cars at the back edge of the port.

As the gyro-limo pulled up in front of the civilian terminal, he immediately saw the foriegn dignitaries waiting in a VIP room, paneled in glass. The limo stopped in front of the VIP room and Marvin jumped out, walked around the limo, and walked into the VIP room.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the great Principality of Industrial Experiment. If you will all follow me, you will be escorted to a gyro-limo outside and taken to the edge of the city. There, you will be treated to a ride in one of the many mountain cars that the Principality maintains. I have heard the view is exquisite, and the food is even better".

The most notable thing regarding the diplomat from ICEL is her hair. Not quite brown nor quite red, yet meeting some seemingly unique place in between, it sweeps all the way down her back apparently resting not far above her behind in a contained, graceful manner. It does not sway when she moves, but seems to flow in a gentle, careful way; and it sums this green-eyed lady up superbly.

For she is not stunning beautiful by most standards; her nose is a little too flat, her cheekbones a whisper too low, her jaw ever so slightly too rounded. Yet she has tender features - and her beautifully vivid green eyes and red-brown (not auburn) hair would be a stunning combination...in some cultures.

She is shapely, to be sure, but there have never been many of her culture prone to being anything but; intel probably told these people ahead of time to expect slender, tall, graceful beings.

She wondered idly if this man was disappointed with a mere five feet seven inch, relatively plain, apparently ordinary Human. Had he expected a Nenyan?

Did he know what a Nenyan was? She wondered if they had any intel at all; some states that she'd communicated with had had none - they had known nothing whatsoever of the Commonality, nor of the Nenyan species.

Now she stood before one of a nation she herself knew little about. She found the reversal somewhat intriguing.

She decided to emphasize the newness, and not the future, for now. She inclined her head to the Third Degree of Greeting - approximately a fifth of the total movement required to bring chin to chest. When she speaks, it is in a soft, gentle voice; she speaks English, for she does not know nor carries a translator capable of translating into a tongue which has been heard* but not yet studied. "It is indeed honour enough to come fresh-faced into a nation with morals that, on appearance, seem similar indeed to our own."

[OOC: *the Commonality listens in on any unencrypted transmissions it can; these transmissions are then dispatched to linguistic specialists, who attempt to draw comparisons between the 'new' language uncovered and old ones already known. I'm presuming that your nation's language has not yet been studied by the experts in the Commonality, but is indeed known.]