NationStates Jolt Archive

I have no idea where they take me, it feels like I’m being carried around. The screech of monkeys the birds and parrots singing in the canopy. The dense, heavy air of moist and the fungus you can almost hear growing. It must be Holy Panooly, or not? Sometimes I wake up, fall back to unconsciousness and to wake up again, trying to rethink what happened, where I am. Or perhaps I’m not in Holy Panooly, vague images flash in front of my eyes. Not the frightening golden face of Tol-Uhm. No, the mechanical face of Tlaloc, the rain god of Theohuanacu. Again my mind slips into unconsciousness, when I woke up I was lying in a small prison cell. Down here, I sit in absolute darkness, and only when the lone watchman comes by with his gas lamp the only thing I see are the bars in front of me, and the mawkish stones surrounding me. The floors and walls and even the ceiling are shrouded in moss and fungus so thick, so dense, I think any horticulturist would rank it healthier than I am right now. The stench of raw sewage, or what I remember from it because I am used to this rotten air now. Rotten enough to keep rats and other vermin away. My memory is still as blurred, as it was on the way down here, sometimes I try to piece together little I know… I remember a few days ago, or longer. I don’t know exactly there were two men talking to some guy to the cell in front of me. I could only see the pale face of the other inmate. I couldn’t understand the strange language, but the way the other prisoner was talking, he was telling everything, spilling his guts completely.

I woke up this morning, and strangely enough light was pouring into this corridor. This is the first time I notice, but there are only two cells. I heard some voices talking again, in this strange alien language. I could only pick up fragments of it, but this is what I remember:
“…Erech no hach nobadeh...”
“…Dompeh sha, kallanikki no Lorgan Vimes...”
“…Cencetzu, erech haja patar. Neh kako mushaftan...”
Logan Vimes… I remember that name. Wasn’t he one of the captains who participated in operation Carpe Diem? I don’t remember. I must escape this place somehow, I noticed some of the bricks on the left wall are quite rotten, and maybe with one firm kick I can break them, creating a small hole. I know there’s a small open chamber next to me, tonight I’m gonna do it. The guards somehow gave me an idea of time of day, because there’s only one time of day a hot dish is served above and soon after someone opened the hatch, and no light came in. It had to be night, and every time when I smell the food, I know it’s well after dark. I have no idea what happens or who awaits me but I have to try. I have discovered the holes in the patrol of the guard and I must take advantage of those. I waited for the footsteps to come closer, closer… The lantern lights up the passageway, but not where my small bed of hay lies. I brace myself against the wall behind me, and a firm kick breaches the wall. Carefully I pull out the loose stones and stack them in the dark but before I crawl through the gap I check if the guard is anywhere – he isn’t. Good, I crawled through the narrow opening and the first thing I saw was a key lying on the desk. I extinguished the torch above me and walked to a small depot, crates and barrels all stacked onto each other. I climbed up all the junk and opened the hatch… I grabbed the ledge and pulled myself up. By my God, I never looked up at the night sky and thought it was this beautiful. The stars and the moon, so peaceful. I have no time for such things, I must get out. But before I could figure out how to get over the fence a steel door of a small building unlocked and a guard walked out with a rifle. If I could overpower him, I’d shoot the lock and run away, away from this weird place. I have no idea why I did it, but somehow I managed to run to the guard, give him a blow on the back of his head with a large chuck of wood, knocking him out. I grabbed his gun, shot the lock and there I am, in the middle of the jungle in hostile territory. I cannot stop now. I must go on. Running through the jungle, jumping into raging rivers being chased by cannibals and putting all my survival skills to the test. After days of trekking through the forest I made it to a town. I have to contact the outside world, these people from Holy Panooly are still in Theohuanacu, my homeland. I don’t know what those freaks want, but probably to leech our natural resources. I must contact a free nation, someone who is willing to jump into the breach for us, someone willing to try to make peace in this hornet’s nest.

When I came back into Tiwanaku my whole office had been raided. All documents stolen, my computer destroyed and harddisk ripped out. Well, good thing I have contacts with the outside world, away from this Fruit Islands* hellhole. The IARA only made things worse... Why does it have to be Theohuanacu again? After decades of occupation and slaughter we happen to be the only left-leaning democracy in the Fruit Islands.

* Geographical name of the Imperial Armies region.

*tag for a later post*

OOC: This is kind of an introduction post to some important characters.

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/theohuanacu.jpg
"Our jungle buys us a safe passage"

I had to get out of the city, it's getting too dangerous. I don't know who these people are, but I have a strange feeling they don't want to invite me for coffee and biscuits. No, I had to get away and go into hiding before they find me. That's not a difficult task, nay. But leaving town is a tough one. A few days after I escaped that place, I still don't really know what to do or why they kidnapped me. I mean, it's unlogical. But before I go, I must contact a nation of freedom, democracy... Who? Sarzonia. Sarzonia is a nation where someone who openly commits acts of Sodomy, well at least to The Social Nationalist Reich. In my opinion he's better in every way than the beast known as Cobragt Rundevelt, oh I have a hard time even thinking about him. The endless grief he caused, the endless greed he inspires. I shudder to think what might happen if Sarzonia and Holy Panooly meet again, I am sure neither of them have forgotten what Dominic Templeton has done to Sarzonia. I know they are compassionate nation, but I fear they will know no remorse for a person like the Baron. The way Templeton implemented the Sarzonian men to torture and sacrifice is beyond me.

Fishkill. Gerard Fishkill. The notorious pirate ringleader, another person high on the international wanted list. Every time I pronounce the name Fishkill I would love to speak out the word fuck, but I cannot do that. And his pirate henchmen who rule the seas around Theohuanacu. The more of them bastards are killed by Sarzonia the better... After they took so much of my nation. It's the least they could do. I refuse to accept Sarzonia cannot aid us down here. We are the only nation that isn't a dictatorship, and we're in deep trouble. I must contact them before it's too late, and I am afraid these people will not hesitate to kill the last Theohuanacu hotspots of resistance with their usual cruelty. I hope the Baron will never set foot on Theohuanacu soil again, for that would mean more decades of slavery and oppression. I cannot allow that, our human spirit cannot allow that. We must act.

Lorgan Vimes. I know I heard the name before, perhaps yet another corrupt captain of the Kriegsmarine. Who knows, and if you do as a Theohuanacu citizen, your life is short. We aren't supposed to know anything about these people. What I do know? I barely dare to even think about it... But I have to. When I contact Sarzonia I must give details. I know he smuggles coke and booze in and out of the Fruit Islands, he has his own freehold on the central islands. Disputed by The Macabees, Liberated America, Holy Panooly and The Merchant Guilds Theohuanacu can prize itself lucky their attention only goes to those islands. Lorgan Vimes is a smuggler endorsed by the Kriegsmarine, and so is Blouff.

Goddamnit! Blouff is the one who's hated the most by Theohuanacu. I only know his last name is Blouff, and that he's someone who likes to loot ancient tombs. Rumors go he has the most extensive art collection of the whole world - illegally obtained that is. I remember when Blouff wanted to raid the temple of Citamaque, and our militia tried to stop him. Tears flow from my eyes and my head aches when I think about it, how he picked one villager out who had to choose five persons to be killed. If he refused, then the whole village would be burned to the ground, and the citizens massacred. He choose wisely. After all the riches were taken away, he killed the five persons chosen by the man. After Blouff did that, he killed everything alive.

Hours later...

Something tells me I am in safety. I better start writing my letter to Sarzo, their president before I shall be found and slain. I started to write, I write about Blouff and his crimes, I write about Fishkill, I write about Templeton, I write about the oppression and crimes against humanity. I write about Lorgan Vimes. I write about the cell where I was. I write about myself, who I am. Should this letter be intercepted, then I hope I'll be found fast, and give me a quick and painless death, although I know that is forlorn hope. The letter is sent, and I can only pray to Tlaloc that it will reach its ultimate destination.

Months later, in Sarzonia

"Mr President, I have a letter for you"

The letter has arrived, but the writer has been found, killed and burned. Blouff's signature is written all over it, the resistance of Theohuanacu tried to warn Mr Sarzo, but alas. The letter is being read as Blouff's and Vimes' men kill and destroy the last outposts of the resistance, but the fighting is fierce. There is still time.

Sarzo grimaced as he read the letter. The Incorporated Sarzonian Military was already in a quagmire in Inkana and here was another situation that reared its head once again.

Holy Panooly.

Sarzo's grimace turned to a full-on frown when he read that name. Damnit, I knew we should have proceeded with the invasion, he thought. We should have never listened to those Austarian and Novan diplomats and military envoys. Not only was Holy Panooly in the region, but so was Guffingford. Not to mention Sirens of Titan and Guerrillistan, both countries with whom Sarzonia was on unfriendly terms. Not only would the military frown on this mission, Parliament would have his head if he tried to commit forces.

Finally, he read over the letter once again. He realised something that could help his case, at least with a secret operation that might just do the trick. If Sarzonia were able to project enough of its military into Theohuanacu, it might be able to avert the full-scale retribution that military strategists in Saugerties feared would destroy the country. If Sarzonia were able to ensure the independence of Theohuanacu, it could possibly forge an alliance. It could also give the Sarzonian military a foothold in that region of the world and give it a base for a quick reaction in the event of an attack. But more importantly, it could benefit Sarzonia by having one more ally and Sarzo reasoned that Sarzonia could always benefit from more allies.

He thought that the ISN would be able do the job, even in its push for more efficency and for greater parity with other branches of the military. He also thought of the benefits he could suggest to Theohuanacu's leadership: Trade agreements, alliances, and an ability to ensure its status as a player on the world stage. He figured that if he could pitch the benefits to Sarzonia's allies, they could also get involved and that would help avert a full-scale war for independence that could sap Sarzonia's military.

Sarzo picked up the secure telephone line to the Military Command Centre in Saugerties. Finding Vice President for Defence John Newman on the other end, Sarzo began to speak.

"John, listen to me. I need to have you, General Santius, Bill, and Vice President Bunhall meet me in the conference room at the MCC. Code Blue."

"Code blue? Aye, sir." Code blue was the signal for a covert operation that Parliament likely wouldn't find out about until after the fact and the House of Delegates was hopefully going to ratify a treaty with Theohuanacu. At least that's what they hoped would happen.

Newman quickly paged the leaders of each of the branches: Army Chief Antonius Santius, Air Force Chief Bill Lighton, and Vice President for Naval Operations Kathy Bunhall. Sarzo immediately got into his limo and raced to Saugerties. He also took along his secure cell phone and his laptop. He knew he would have to contact the Theohuanacu resistance soon. He was going to make sure that unlike the Panoolian War, this would be well-coordinated.

"It is indeed a terrible tragedy has happened to him days before we received word that the letter has arrived at Mike Sarzo's office. Though we are left clueless what will happen or how they will respond, if they respond at all. We will have to wait." The man was standing at the head of the table, with fellow resistance fighters sitting besides him. The leader was rereading the letter and then, out of sheer fear, he dropped the letter on the ground and fainted. Minutes he later he woke up, his face still pale. Shivering, his whole appearance sent down shivers down spines, and people wanted to know - what did he said - or forgot to mention?

"My God... Oh my God..." The men and women were standing around him, helping him in a chair while he was still saying oh my God. A few minutes later, he said it.
"Our man has forgot to mention Blair Munroe in his letter..." The surpressed laughs of pure agony and the nervous looks on the faces of the resistance fighters, made itself master of them in not even a second. Immediately they realized what this meant for their mission, their cause. For hours they sat in their chairs, sobbing and praying that somehow Sarzo would find out about Blair Munroe - but it was to no avail. And even if they did know the name, then they wouldn't possibly know what kind of person he was. Blair Munroe is the only person who can match Blouff in his cruelties against our people, a pirate, a trader in blood diamonds, a gold and silver smuggler, exploiter of farmers forcing them to plant coca. Mr Munroe runs many illegal gambling dens abroad: he is the kingpin of crime on the southern hemisphere. And his freehold is located in the middle of a major Guffingfordii naval base - led by no one less than Commander Maynard Blouff. Yes, I remember his first name. When I saw him boarding one of those new Belknap destroyers someone yelled Maynard and he looked around and replied.

There's no time to send another letter, for that would take another three months. Theohuanacu is running out of time, but the resistance is getting stronger. We must stand firm against them. This is our nation, and we have the right to govern it the way we want. The raving mad from Holy Panooly and the Guffingfordii warmachine... Things don't look good for us. But we still have our capital, and the most important cities.

We can only hope Sarzo makes wise decisions.