NationStates Jolt Archive

An V-68 VIP transport touched down in Generia International Airport, in the Emperor's private terminal. However, the Emperor wasn't the man who stepped off. It was the next best thing: his son. Maximus, son of Emperor Helldawg V, had decided to fly in to pay his grandfather, Emperor Antonius I, a visit. The boarding ramp of the aircraft dropped and a band struck up the Doomingsland National Anthem.

A man, roughly mid-twenties, clad in sleek black armor reminiscent of a Roman general stepped off. He was the spitting image of his father. At his side sat a guilded, yet fully functional, Gladius. He had a hardened look about him; he was a graduate of Legionary Training, and killed for pleasure. It was said he was even more of a sadist than his father, how was responsable for the deaths of hundreds of millions of people. However, it was also said he was well mannered.

As he walked in between an honor gaurd of Praetorians, kneeling before a man who technically was a Generian prince in addition to Imperator Secundus of Doomingsland, he saluted them. He himself was a hardened warrior, and a veteran of many bloody battles.

Tag

There were roughly 30 fully armored Imperial White Guardsmen lining the official red carpet that had been lain out before the transport aircraft bearing Prince Maximus. As the son of the Emperor Helldawg, lord of Doomingsland and the Lady Anja of Generia passed, they formed an archway over his head with their sabers, the bright sunlight glinting off the steel on the uncommonly warm day in Generia City.

At the end of the line, an officer in ceremonial white armor stood with his helmet under his arm, and as the Prince of two nations approached, he allowed himself a deep bow before addressing Maximus.

"Your grace, I am Captain Pyotr Marislav, Commander of the Lord Varus's personal bodyguard. My lord has instructed me to provide escort to the White Citadel. If you would follow me, your grace, your transportation has been provided for."

The officer gestured to a black limousine with tinted windows and the Imperial emblem emblazoned on the hood.

Maximus nodded without saying a word, and followed his cousin Varus' bodygaurd towards the limo, his steel boots clanking on the ground and his sleek black armor gleaming in the sun, making for a brilliant display of black and white armor there in the airport terminal.

Under escort by armored Imperial military and GIIS security vehicles, the motorcade progressed through the imposing Imperial capital, and into the western outskirts of the city, finally arriving at the massive and ornate gates of the White Citadel, the enormous walled compound that consisted of three palaces, vast stretches of gardens, barracks for the White Guardsmen, and several other large guest residences and diplomatic structures.

The gates swung open, and the mororcade passed into the Citadel so often obscured from the public and the International eye. The limousine's escort broke off, and the vehicle made way for the largest of the three palaces, the Emperor's personal residence, and the beating heart of Generia.

The limousine halted in the large driveway circle before the white marble steps that led to the palace's front entrance. The palace doors opened, and a man in a black and red uniform stepped out and descended towards the motorcade. He had strong features, and hair that was long, but neatly groomed. A saber hung at his waist.

A diplomatic valet opened the door for Maximus, and the man stood to greet him.

"I trust you found your journey satisfactory, cousin?"

Maximus stood with a broad grin on his face, and finally spoke.

"Varus! How have you been?" he said to his cousin, Lord Protector of the Generian Imperial Army, as he strolled up the massive finely crafted stairs of the palace and walked through the massive doorway into the hall.

"Fine, fine. You certainly seem to be holding your own. I hear from Anja that they put you through Legionary training. Come, Antonius is waiting for you."

In truth, Antonius had completely forgotten that Maximus was coming, and was busy lying asleep on a sofa in one of his luxurious sitting rooms, an empty bottle of Black Death Vodka lying on the ground next to him. He was snoring loudly as Varus entered, and an aid shook him awake.

Startled, the Emperor jumped to his feet.

"What!? Where are they?! Man the walls! Fetch my weapons!"

The aid frantically tried to calm Antonius, and eventually succeeded. Antonius saw for the first time that Varus and Maximus had entered the room. He gave Maximus a quizzical look, and called the aid over.

"Who's that guy?"

"Er, your grandson, sire."

"Grandson?"

"Maximus, sire."

"Oh yeah."

Antonius shoved the servant away.

"Maximus! How've you been? Come on in! You drink? Of course you drink. Everyone drinks. You! Servant! Get this man a drink!"

Antonius lit a cigarette and collapsed into a stuffed leather easy chair. Varus politely excused himself, and left the two to their musings.

"Yes. After the training, they gave me my own legion to command, not because I'm the Emperor's son, but because I actualy made a pretty damned good general." he said with a chuckle as he walked with his cousin towards the room, "Although I'd be interested how your Praetorian training compares."

As he said that, the doors to the room were cast open, revealing his half-drunk grandfather. This was usualy how Maximus saw Antonius, so he wasn't exactly shocked. Maximus took a glass from a sevant and sipped it.

"I am well, grandfather. In fact, I'm slated to command our little war against those Sarzonian bastards." he said with a smirk.

Antonius gave Maximus a quizzical look, but a light of recognition soon drove it away.

"Ah, right, right. Sarzonia. War. Absolutely."

He drained the bottle of Black Death Vodka, and promptly called for another.

"It's about damn time somebody started shooting at those pricks."

Tag. [OOC - I'm not really going to read this, but remember me?! :D ]

Tag. [OOC - I'm not really going to read this, but remember me?! :D ]

((OOC: Of course, my first ally. And it's good to know at least someone else is remembering Rocko's Modern Life.))

"Indeed." replied Maximus, finishing off his own bottle and promptly grabbing another one.

"Only one thing worse than a communist: a liberal." he said with a slight chuckled as took a sip of the vodka.