Soviet Bloc
24-12-2004, 10:11
Premier Boris Chlevenkov emerged from the crimson curtains and walked onto stage, surrounded by escorts and government officials. He pushed them aside and made his way to the podium. The podium was adorned with the Great Seal of the Armed Republic, behind him hung the flag of the ARSB, its navy blue contrasting with the dark red background. He exhaled as he closed his eyes, everyone could clearly see his old age, the wispy white hair and the rugged, wrinkled face... His eye lids fluttered open and he scanned the audience with his tired and worn hazel eyes. He cleared his throat and began his short speech...
"This nation, forged of the precious will of the people and made into that rugged, handsome sword of democracy from the firepit of socialism, no longer needs me to keep the sword polished and prepared for service. My physical body is ailing and I can no longer handle the stresses of being your leader. It was an honor, on my part, to lead this nation from the licking flames of socialism to the calm, cool waters of democracy and from the cold grip of a ruthless dictator to the free republic. I could not do it without your un-ending support, and your work, as well as mine, ultimately brought this nation to a new level, a level at which this nation must progress to the next. And in order to do this, a new leader must take over, a fresh face for a fresh nation. However, the successor I will name will also be experienced, as our nation is experienced. He is an honorable man, with courage abundant, much like our own nation. And I have no doubt in my mind that Viktor Dokhturov can and will bring our nation to its next level, the new generation, the future..."
He looked to his right at Viktor Dokhturov, one of his senior aides and a man of age 42. He was young yet experienced, having served all of his life with the military from the age of seventeen until he was forty one, retiring as a major general. Viktor stood, rather shocked by the announcement, his face wore a puzzled expression as he stared blankly at the Premier.
The Premier returned his gaze to the audience, equally shocked, and continued, "It is my duty, as your Premier, to do what is necessary for our nation. And it is necessary that I stand down so that our nation can continue on its current path. Our nation is changing... For the better. And my values no longer fit this great nation."
He coughed lightly before sipping a glass of water, "My physical body is almost gone. My mind is not and I shall forever live with this nation. I exist in each and every one of you. In this seal. In this flag, I exist. But most of all, you, all of you, exist. You are the future. I am the past. We must continue. And there is no better man than Viktor. Effective this very moment, I am handing the Premier-ship to Viktor Dokhturov..." He stepped away from the podium, a light tear forming in the crease of his right eye... The revolutionary that had led a troubled nation from hell to prosperity was leaving office. He was once the hope of a troubled nation and now leaving the leadership position of the successful nation he had created.
Viktor blinked and approached the former Premier, giving him a masculine hug. He back off and shook the weathered hand of the former Premier. It was a firm grip, one that would be required to turn the helm of a nation over to its next leader. Boris Chlevenkov nodded to the new Premier and gave a wave to the audience, all of them regular people aside from the media placed around the room. They cheered and applauded the former Premier as he exited the stage.
The new Premier, Viktor Dokhturov, proceeded to the podium and gave his haphazard, unprepared acceptance speech stating that he would give a more formal version later in the day...
Six hours later, Premier Viktor Dokhturov stood in front of tens of thousands of Rostov citizens, gathered in front of the capitol building. He stood dressed in his full Premier uniform with the near fluorescent white gloves. He had an empty scabbard at his side. He saluted the audience and the audience returned the salute, as was customary for the exchange ceremony (however, this was only the second time it was done since the revolution). He did an about face, turning towards the former Premier, dressed in his Premier uniform. Surrounding him were his government aides. The National Choir began singing the nation's anthem, assisted by loudspeakers. The audience did their part, singing along, or at least humming. The two leaders, former and present, brought up a stern salute, signifying the leadership and honor they valued. Viktor took a single step forward, his polished boots clacking against the stage. Boris Chlevenkov took five steps forward and brought his right hand to his left side, gripping the gold and crimson red handle of the Premier's Sabre. With fluid motion, somehow defying his old age, he swiped it from its navy blue scabbard and brought it to bear, its slightly curved blade resting vertically, the sharpened edge facing Viktor. Engraved into its hardened steel and tungsten blade were the words: "From the People of the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc, the Sabre of a Great Nation. We hand ourselves to you." The sabre was ceremonial, created by the nations premier swordsman and presented to Boris Chlevenkov from the people of the ARSB. It was the people's gift to the Premier, stating that they were the Premier's sabre, his fighting force... His defense and that they would defend the Premiership to its last, fighting breath.
Finally, the anthem hit its most enchanting notes at which the former Premier stepped towards Viktor and brought the sabre to a horizontal position, resting on his two gloved hands. He outstretched his hands, nodding to the new Premier. Viktor obliged, his right hand gripped the sabre's handle, his left hand sliding underneath the blade. He brough the sabre to a vertical position. Boris Chlevenkov raised a stern salute as Viktor turned towards the audience. He took the sabre and slid it into its scabbard. At once, the entire audience erupted into cheering and applaud. Viktor turned to Boris, as the new leader and gave the returning salute. Boris released the salute and turned, heading off stage as the national anthem dwindled to a close.
Viktor then made his way to the podium as a dozen lights lit up the waving Soviet Bloc flags behind him. It was time for his short acceptance speech, stating the brief overview of what was to come.
"Comrades, men and women of the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc. Words cannot describe the honor I feel of becoming your Premier... Your second Premier. As former Premier Chlevenkov had stated earlier, I have now taken ahold of the People's Sabre, that sword created from the sweat and blood of a torn nation. As your new Premier, I intend on elevating the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc beyond its brethren, we will enter a new age, an age of dominance. I intend on modifying our current state of foreign affairs from its current passive state to an active state, thrusting ourselves onto the international stage. Our current alliances are inadequate and most do not serve our purposes well. Therefore, we will leave some alliances... But enter many more. Our military, being recently downsized, is inadequate for our overseas promises and so I intend to turn our military into an unstoppable machine of such immense power so that any conflict we enter will effectively end through the decisive and debilitating actions of our military." He stopped for a second, trying to come up with a final sentence to summarize everything he had said. He grinned, it came to him like a crack of thunder and his voice boomed across the stage and audience as he said it...
"This is the ending of an age, but fear not, it also the beginning of another." He waved and left the stage to an over-abundance of applause.
Later, the new (major) cabinet officials would be named, they were:
Minister of Domestic Affairs Viktor Arakcheyev (this Ministry includes transportation and others)
Minister of Foreign Affairs Nikolai Mozhak (this Ministry includes trade, overseas deployments, etc.)
Minister of Defense Mikhail Kutuzov
Minister of Trade Ruslan Novosiltsev
Minister of Transportation Ivan Suvorov
Minister of Health Services Anastasia Selivanov
Minister of Research Boris Zhilin
Minister of District Affairs Xander Beskrovny (basically deals with Inter-District affairs)
"This nation, forged of the precious will of the people and made into that rugged, handsome sword of democracy from the firepit of socialism, no longer needs me to keep the sword polished and prepared for service. My physical body is ailing and I can no longer handle the stresses of being your leader. It was an honor, on my part, to lead this nation from the licking flames of socialism to the calm, cool waters of democracy and from the cold grip of a ruthless dictator to the free republic. I could not do it without your un-ending support, and your work, as well as mine, ultimately brought this nation to a new level, a level at which this nation must progress to the next. And in order to do this, a new leader must take over, a fresh face for a fresh nation. However, the successor I will name will also be experienced, as our nation is experienced. He is an honorable man, with courage abundant, much like our own nation. And I have no doubt in my mind that Viktor Dokhturov can and will bring our nation to its next level, the new generation, the future..."
He looked to his right at Viktor Dokhturov, one of his senior aides and a man of age 42. He was young yet experienced, having served all of his life with the military from the age of seventeen until he was forty one, retiring as a major general. Viktor stood, rather shocked by the announcement, his face wore a puzzled expression as he stared blankly at the Premier.
The Premier returned his gaze to the audience, equally shocked, and continued, "It is my duty, as your Premier, to do what is necessary for our nation. And it is necessary that I stand down so that our nation can continue on its current path. Our nation is changing... For the better. And my values no longer fit this great nation."
He coughed lightly before sipping a glass of water, "My physical body is almost gone. My mind is not and I shall forever live with this nation. I exist in each and every one of you. In this seal. In this flag, I exist. But most of all, you, all of you, exist. You are the future. I am the past. We must continue. And there is no better man than Viktor. Effective this very moment, I am handing the Premier-ship to Viktor Dokhturov..." He stepped away from the podium, a light tear forming in the crease of his right eye... The revolutionary that had led a troubled nation from hell to prosperity was leaving office. He was once the hope of a troubled nation and now leaving the leadership position of the successful nation he had created.
Viktor blinked and approached the former Premier, giving him a masculine hug. He back off and shook the weathered hand of the former Premier. It was a firm grip, one that would be required to turn the helm of a nation over to its next leader. Boris Chlevenkov nodded to the new Premier and gave a wave to the audience, all of them regular people aside from the media placed around the room. They cheered and applauded the former Premier as he exited the stage.
The new Premier, Viktor Dokhturov, proceeded to the podium and gave his haphazard, unprepared acceptance speech stating that he would give a more formal version later in the day...
Six hours later, Premier Viktor Dokhturov stood in front of tens of thousands of Rostov citizens, gathered in front of the capitol building. He stood dressed in his full Premier uniform with the near fluorescent white gloves. He had an empty scabbard at his side. He saluted the audience and the audience returned the salute, as was customary for the exchange ceremony (however, this was only the second time it was done since the revolution). He did an about face, turning towards the former Premier, dressed in his Premier uniform. Surrounding him were his government aides. The National Choir began singing the nation's anthem, assisted by loudspeakers. The audience did their part, singing along, or at least humming. The two leaders, former and present, brought up a stern salute, signifying the leadership and honor they valued. Viktor took a single step forward, his polished boots clacking against the stage. Boris Chlevenkov took five steps forward and brought his right hand to his left side, gripping the gold and crimson red handle of the Premier's Sabre. With fluid motion, somehow defying his old age, he swiped it from its navy blue scabbard and brought it to bear, its slightly curved blade resting vertically, the sharpened edge facing Viktor. Engraved into its hardened steel and tungsten blade were the words: "From the People of the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc, the Sabre of a Great Nation. We hand ourselves to you." The sabre was ceremonial, created by the nations premier swordsman and presented to Boris Chlevenkov from the people of the ARSB. It was the people's gift to the Premier, stating that they were the Premier's sabre, his fighting force... His defense and that they would defend the Premiership to its last, fighting breath.
Finally, the anthem hit its most enchanting notes at which the former Premier stepped towards Viktor and brought the sabre to a horizontal position, resting on his two gloved hands. He outstretched his hands, nodding to the new Premier. Viktor obliged, his right hand gripped the sabre's handle, his left hand sliding underneath the blade. He brough the sabre to a vertical position. Boris Chlevenkov raised a stern salute as Viktor turned towards the audience. He took the sabre and slid it into its scabbard. At once, the entire audience erupted into cheering and applaud. Viktor turned to Boris, as the new leader and gave the returning salute. Boris released the salute and turned, heading off stage as the national anthem dwindled to a close.
Viktor then made his way to the podium as a dozen lights lit up the waving Soviet Bloc flags behind him. It was time for his short acceptance speech, stating the brief overview of what was to come.
"Comrades, men and women of the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc. Words cannot describe the honor I feel of becoming your Premier... Your second Premier. As former Premier Chlevenkov had stated earlier, I have now taken ahold of the People's Sabre, that sword created from the sweat and blood of a torn nation. As your new Premier, I intend on elevating the Armed Republic of Soviet Bloc beyond its brethren, we will enter a new age, an age of dominance. I intend on modifying our current state of foreign affairs from its current passive state to an active state, thrusting ourselves onto the international stage. Our current alliances are inadequate and most do not serve our purposes well. Therefore, we will leave some alliances... But enter many more. Our military, being recently downsized, is inadequate for our overseas promises and so I intend to turn our military into an unstoppable machine of such immense power so that any conflict we enter will effectively end through the decisive and debilitating actions of our military." He stopped for a second, trying to come up with a final sentence to summarize everything he had said. He grinned, it came to him like a crack of thunder and his voice boomed across the stage and audience as he said it...
"This is the ending of an age, but fear not, it also the beginning of another." He waved and left the stage to an over-abundance of applause.
Later, the new (major) cabinet officials would be named, they were:
Minister of Domestic Affairs Viktor Arakcheyev (this Ministry includes transportation and others)
Minister of Foreign Affairs Nikolai Mozhak (this Ministry includes trade, overseas deployments, etc.)
Minister of Defense Mikhail Kutuzov
Minister of Trade Ruslan Novosiltsev
Minister of Transportation Ivan Suvorov
Minister of Health Services Anastasia Selivanov
Minister of Research Boris Zhilin
Minister of District Affairs Xander Beskrovny (basically deals with Inter-District affairs)