Sarzonia
30-08-2005, 06:42
[OOC: Similar to Hogsweat's thread (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=440955), this is merely reference for Sarzonia's declaration of war (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=440102). It goes into greater detail than my initial post where I glossed over the actual process of declaring war.]
The sound of dress shoes clattering down the hallway leading from the Gray House to Parliament Hall was normally a sound that didn't even register in President Mike Sarzo's mind, but after the events that led him here today, the clack, clack, clack his shoes made as he deliberately strode toward the joint chambre rang in his head as urgently as a drum beating for war.
Sarzo thought ruefully about the morning, which started just like any other morning. First Partner Jay Tyler brought Sarzo a breakfast of French toast, three slices of bacon, Benatar orange juice, and the morning's Woodstock Daily Mail. The front page stories told of crime rates in other Atlantian Oceania countries and the latest scientific research. A teaser pointed to growing tensions between Automagfreek and Hogsweat over some island chain that seemed to vaguely be the source of fighting.
Little did Sarzo know at the time that just after he finished his final swig of orange juice that his mobile phone would ring with a beep that could only signal an urgent situation.
"Mike, turn on Channel 14. Now."
Sarzo turned on the tele. That image, the Lord Reaver himself, making a speech that would remain burned in his mind for years accusing Sarzonia of oppressing the Branwynian people. A people who once fought for their independence, leading to a quasi war against another much larger power, Sdaeriji. That incident resulted in a stalemate that left the Branwyn question unresolved. It wasn't until St. John Hospitaller and Mauiwoweean combat units chased down and defeated the last of the Branwynian units that Sarzonia and its allies finally claimed victory.
Glory to Gholgoth and the Blood Pact! The wardrums sound again, and we march to free yet another opressed people from the bonds of tyranny and the unwanted yoke of opression. While our Freek and Aequatian Allies in the south prepare to deny the onslaught of vile cutthroats, we prepare to sail in the name of Freedom, to snap the bonds of a chained people. I speak of course of the noble people of Branwyn, long ground beneath the Sarzonian bootheel.
Sarzonia's era of dictatorship in Branwyn is at an end. That is my word and through my might it will be made reality. As of this moment a state of war exists between the Free Lands of Pantera and the Tyranny of Sarzonia.
I have two suggestions to make, though one is less of a suggestion and more of a command. First, I urge the citizens and right-minded folk of Branwyn to rise up against their Sarzonian opressors. With sword and shot and savagery we will drive your opressors from your lands and stand alongside you should they return. To arms, my brothers, to arms! Your time is now, as is theirs.
And, to the Sarzonian opressors, I say this: Lie down your arms, lower your banners in Branwyn, and board your ships. Sail home, and opress yourselves, for you are not wanted here. As of this moment you have one hour to lower your flags and submit, or my armies will storm your shores and end your miserable lives.
There will be no discussion, there will be no negotiation.
Drag the Waters of War.No discussion. No negotiation.
War.
To say Sarzonia didn't see the start of hostililties coming was a reach, but Sarzonian military experts were readying themselves for a defensive struggle near their home waters. Not Branwyn. The colony was hardly a major strategic holding. Yes, it was a Manium colony and yes, the colony's area was equivalent to that of Western Europe. But Sarzonia didn't have an enormous military presence there. The colonial milita was training to deal with threats from other colonies, not the Reavers.
The thoughts played in Sarzo's head as he crossed the threshold into the joint chambre where literally hundreds of lawmakers sat waiting for the word from their Commander in Chief. Sarzo looked out, desperately hoping he would project courage and resolve, but inside, Sarzo thought his fear would betray his outer face to the world as SNN's camera began to roll.
"Mr. Speaker, Madame President Pro Tempore, Delegates and Senators," Sarzo began, hoping his customary greeting would buy him one more ounce of courage to screw to the sticking point. Oh shit, he thought. My fucking legs are shaking. His legs quavered only slightly, but the movement rang loud and clear on Sarzo's mind.
"As all of you are aware, the so-called Free Lands of Pantera have chosen to blatantly disregard sovereign Sarzonian territory by threatening our colony in Branwyn."
Sarzo paused as murmurs began to fill the chambre. Over the din of activity in his swirling mind, Sarzo didn't hear most of the whispers and chatter that sounded a crescendo in the large room. But the intonation of one word continued to make itself known despite the bustle. Branwyn. Looking out at the sea of faces, Sarzo realised that many of the Delegates and Senators were shocked at the turn of events. None of them expected Branwyn to be the first front of a war against one of the world's genuine megapowers.
"They are insisting that we lay down our arms without a fight and without negotiations," Sarzo said. The murmurs grew in intensity as Sarzo noticed the looks on the faces of the war hawks among the Sarzonian Parliament. He knew that surrender was not an option for these men and women. He also knew that the move was not sitting well with other legislators, notably the Conservative Party.
"As President, I am often forced to make difficult and occasionally unpopular decisions, though I am called upon to carry out my Constitutional duties to preserve, protect, and defend this Constitution and do so to the best of my skill and judgment. It is now that I am called upon to respond to this latest crisis and test of our resolve as lovers of freedom and defenders of our way of life.
"I do not undertake this task lightly," Sarzo said again, trying to reassure the doves in his Parliament and soften the blow his next words would bring to their ears, "but I must ask you to issue a formal declaration of war against the Free Lands of Pantera."
Sarzo stood back roughly three centlimetres, trying again to register the reactions his stunning request would have on Parliament.
"Our national motto says quite succinctly that freedom is never truly free unless you work for it," he said. "We are now charged with working as hard as we ever have to defend our rights as free men and women to live our lives without the spectre of evil lurking around every street corner. I ask you all for one measure of devotion, one act of courage in your country's hour of need. Praetonia needs us. Hogsweat needs us. The free world needs us. But more importantly, Branwyn needs us and we need to reach deep within ourselves.
"Victory may be difficult. The odds may be greatly against us, but we can not go into this feeling our cause is lost. Victory can be ours. No, victory will be ours," Sarzo said, punctuating the final sentence with his clenched right fist smacking against the top of the podium. He hoped desperately that his show of defiance against a power that rarely was tested by even a near peer would add resolve to an uncertain Parliament and to an Incorporated Sarzonian Army that was a worldwide laughingstock.
I guess we'll find out if those reforms were worth anything, Sarzo said as he finally left the room, sitting in a booth where he saw the vote count come in. He grimaced as he saw the early return from the Senate. Sixteen votes against, nine in favour. He sighed deeply and with his eyes welling up, started eyeing the wall to his left with the malevolence of a prize fighter looking to enact revenge against a foe who caught him with a jab.
But a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked back at the screen. Eighteen votes against, seventeen votes in favour in the Senate. But the House vote was coming in at 241 votes in favour to 137 against. Ten more votes and the House would pass the declaration of war. Sarzo needed nine votes in the Senate, but if eight votes went against him, he would have to fight a battle of his own to defend Branwyn without the consent of Parliament. He knew doing that would draw the Senate into impeachment hearings, and knowing certain Senators, he would be forced to watch the House of Delegates decide his fate.
He looked at the vote again. Twenty four votes against. Twenty four in favour. One more vote and he hit paydirt. If the vote ended in a tie, Lieutenant President Nicole Lewis cast the tiebreaking vote and he figured Lewis would vote for the declaration. Sarzo watched nervously as two Senators, the only two remaining whose decisions would throw Sarzonia into uncertainty or cast their lots with Praetonia and Hogsweat.
Damn they're milking it, he thought. He cringed. Two Liberal senators had the final votes, and only one Liberal senator had cast a vote in favour of war. The two Senators, Lindsay Patten, of Woodstock and Drew Carnegie, of Cooke, cast their ballots simultaneously. For what seemed like an eternity, the digital display hovered at 24 votes to 24. Sarzo was aware of a drop of sweat snaking down his nose and hovering on the tip between his nostrils, but he was feeling too powerful a swirl of emotions to dare wipe the liquid off.
Finally, the display changed. The four on the left hand side changed to a six. Sarzo breathed a sigh, though it was not of relief. How could he be relieved when he was about to commit possibly millions of Sarzonian sons and daughters to their deaths against a much more powerful foe? How could he feel relief when he knew his military needed every ounce of courage and determination against a foe whose strength and cunning were feared worldwide?
We're going to give them a fight, Sarzo thought. Win or lose, freedom or no, we're going to give it everything we've got. Somehow, Sarzo counted on his people battling nearly impossible odds with the urgency of a populace whose homesteads were under direct enemy attack. Somehow, Sarzo knew, his military would at least make Pantera earn every victory they could get.
"By a vote of 26 to 24, the Senate has approved the resolution to declare a state of war between the Incorporated States of Sarzonia and the Free Lands of Pantera," Sarzo heard SNN anchor Joel Stewart intone. With all the suspense building in the Senate, the House vote had gone almost completely unnoticed. Sarzo looked and saw the number on the left read 289. "By a vote of 289 to 212, the House of Delegates has voted for the resolution. As of 7:36 a.m. Sarzonian Standard Time, the Incorporated States of Sarzonia has declared a state of war against the Free Lands of Pantera."
Sarzo stood up and walked out of the room, reflecting on the events that played out at dizzying speeds. One moment, he was eating breakfast with his First Partner, and seemingly minutes later -- and a lifetime hence -- he was the leader of a nation at war.
It's showtime.
The sound of dress shoes clattering down the hallway leading from the Gray House to Parliament Hall was normally a sound that didn't even register in President Mike Sarzo's mind, but after the events that led him here today, the clack, clack, clack his shoes made as he deliberately strode toward the joint chambre rang in his head as urgently as a drum beating for war.
Sarzo thought ruefully about the morning, which started just like any other morning. First Partner Jay Tyler brought Sarzo a breakfast of French toast, three slices of bacon, Benatar orange juice, and the morning's Woodstock Daily Mail. The front page stories told of crime rates in other Atlantian Oceania countries and the latest scientific research. A teaser pointed to growing tensions between Automagfreek and Hogsweat over some island chain that seemed to vaguely be the source of fighting.
Little did Sarzo know at the time that just after he finished his final swig of orange juice that his mobile phone would ring with a beep that could only signal an urgent situation.
"Mike, turn on Channel 14. Now."
Sarzo turned on the tele. That image, the Lord Reaver himself, making a speech that would remain burned in his mind for years accusing Sarzonia of oppressing the Branwynian people. A people who once fought for their independence, leading to a quasi war against another much larger power, Sdaeriji. That incident resulted in a stalemate that left the Branwyn question unresolved. It wasn't until St. John Hospitaller and Mauiwoweean combat units chased down and defeated the last of the Branwynian units that Sarzonia and its allies finally claimed victory.
Glory to Gholgoth and the Blood Pact! The wardrums sound again, and we march to free yet another opressed people from the bonds of tyranny and the unwanted yoke of opression. While our Freek and Aequatian Allies in the south prepare to deny the onslaught of vile cutthroats, we prepare to sail in the name of Freedom, to snap the bonds of a chained people. I speak of course of the noble people of Branwyn, long ground beneath the Sarzonian bootheel.
Sarzonia's era of dictatorship in Branwyn is at an end. That is my word and through my might it will be made reality. As of this moment a state of war exists between the Free Lands of Pantera and the Tyranny of Sarzonia.
I have two suggestions to make, though one is less of a suggestion and more of a command. First, I urge the citizens and right-minded folk of Branwyn to rise up against their Sarzonian opressors. With sword and shot and savagery we will drive your opressors from your lands and stand alongside you should they return. To arms, my brothers, to arms! Your time is now, as is theirs.
And, to the Sarzonian opressors, I say this: Lie down your arms, lower your banners in Branwyn, and board your ships. Sail home, and opress yourselves, for you are not wanted here. As of this moment you have one hour to lower your flags and submit, or my armies will storm your shores and end your miserable lives.
There will be no discussion, there will be no negotiation.
Drag the Waters of War.No discussion. No negotiation.
War.
To say Sarzonia didn't see the start of hostililties coming was a reach, but Sarzonian military experts were readying themselves for a defensive struggle near their home waters. Not Branwyn. The colony was hardly a major strategic holding. Yes, it was a Manium colony and yes, the colony's area was equivalent to that of Western Europe. But Sarzonia didn't have an enormous military presence there. The colonial milita was training to deal with threats from other colonies, not the Reavers.
The thoughts played in Sarzo's head as he crossed the threshold into the joint chambre where literally hundreds of lawmakers sat waiting for the word from their Commander in Chief. Sarzo looked out, desperately hoping he would project courage and resolve, but inside, Sarzo thought his fear would betray his outer face to the world as SNN's camera began to roll.
"Mr. Speaker, Madame President Pro Tempore, Delegates and Senators," Sarzo began, hoping his customary greeting would buy him one more ounce of courage to screw to the sticking point. Oh shit, he thought. My fucking legs are shaking. His legs quavered only slightly, but the movement rang loud and clear on Sarzo's mind.
"As all of you are aware, the so-called Free Lands of Pantera have chosen to blatantly disregard sovereign Sarzonian territory by threatening our colony in Branwyn."
Sarzo paused as murmurs began to fill the chambre. Over the din of activity in his swirling mind, Sarzo didn't hear most of the whispers and chatter that sounded a crescendo in the large room. But the intonation of one word continued to make itself known despite the bustle. Branwyn. Looking out at the sea of faces, Sarzo realised that many of the Delegates and Senators were shocked at the turn of events. None of them expected Branwyn to be the first front of a war against one of the world's genuine megapowers.
"They are insisting that we lay down our arms without a fight and without negotiations," Sarzo said. The murmurs grew in intensity as Sarzo noticed the looks on the faces of the war hawks among the Sarzonian Parliament. He knew that surrender was not an option for these men and women. He also knew that the move was not sitting well with other legislators, notably the Conservative Party.
"As President, I am often forced to make difficult and occasionally unpopular decisions, though I am called upon to carry out my Constitutional duties to preserve, protect, and defend this Constitution and do so to the best of my skill and judgment. It is now that I am called upon to respond to this latest crisis and test of our resolve as lovers of freedom and defenders of our way of life.
"I do not undertake this task lightly," Sarzo said again, trying to reassure the doves in his Parliament and soften the blow his next words would bring to their ears, "but I must ask you to issue a formal declaration of war against the Free Lands of Pantera."
Sarzo stood back roughly three centlimetres, trying again to register the reactions his stunning request would have on Parliament.
"Our national motto says quite succinctly that freedom is never truly free unless you work for it," he said. "We are now charged with working as hard as we ever have to defend our rights as free men and women to live our lives without the spectre of evil lurking around every street corner. I ask you all for one measure of devotion, one act of courage in your country's hour of need. Praetonia needs us. Hogsweat needs us. The free world needs us. But more importantly, Branwyn needs us and we need to reach deep within ourselves.
"Victory may be difficult. The odds may be greatly against us, but we can not go into this feeling our cause is lost. Victory can be ours. No, victory will be ours," Sarzo said, punctuating the final sentence with his clenched right fist smacking against the top of the podium. He hoped desperately that his show of defiance against a power that rarely was tested by even a near peer would add resolve to an uncertain Parliament and to an Incorporated Sarzonian Army that was a worldwide laughingstock.
I guess we'll find out if those reforms were worth anything, Sarzo said as he finally left the room, sitting in a booth where he saw the vote count come in. He grimaced as he saw the early return from the Senate. Sixteen votes against, nine in favour. He sighed deeply and with his eyes welling up, started eyeing the wall to his left with the malevolence of a prize fighter looking to enact revenge against a foe who caught him with a jab.
But a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked back at the screen. Eighteen votes against, seventeen votes in favour in the Senate. But the House vote was coming in at 241 votes in favour to 137 against. Ten more votes and the House would pass the declaration of war. Sarzo needed nine votes in the Senate, but if eight votes went against him, he would have to fight a battle of his own to defend Branwyn without the consent of Parliament. He knew doing that would draw the Senate into impeachment hearings, and knowing certain Senators, he would be forced to watch the House of Delegates decide his fate.
He looked at the vote again. Twenty four votes against. Twenty four in favour. One more vote and he hit paydirt. If the vote ended in a tie, Lieutenant President Nicole Lewis cast the tiebreaking vote and he figured Lewis would vote for the declaration. Sarzo watched nervously as two Senators, the only two remaining whose decisions would throw Sarzonia into uncertainty or cast their lots with Praetonia and Hogsweat.
Damn they're milking it, he thought. He cringed. Two Liberal senators had the final votes, and only one Liberal senator had cast a vote in favour of war. The two Senators, Lindsay Patten, of Woodstock and Drew Carnegie, of Cooke, cast their ballots simultaneously. For what seemed like an eternity, the digital display hovered at 24 votes to 24. Sarzo was aware of a drop of sweat snaking down his nose and hovering on the tip between his nostrils, but he was feeling too powerful a swirl of emotions to dare wipe the liquid off.
Finally, the display changed. The four on the left hand side changed to a six. Sarzo breathed a sigh, though it was not of relief. How could he be relieved when he was about to commit possibly millions of Sarzonian sons and daughters to their deaths against a much more powerful foe? How could he feel relief when he knew his military needed every ounce of courage and determination against a foe whose strength and cunning were feared worldwide?
We're going to give them a fight, Sarzo thought. Win or lose, freedom or no, we're going to give it everything we've got. Somehow, Sarzo counted on his people battling nearly impossible odds with the urgency of a populace whose homesteads were under direct enemy attack. Somehow, Sarzo knew, his military would at least make Pantera earn every victory they could get.
"By a vote of 26 to 24, the Senate has approved the resolution to declare a state of war between the Incorporated States of Sarzonia and the Free Lands of Pantera," Sarzo heard SNN anchor Joel Stewart intone. With all the suspense building in the Senate, the House vote had gone almost completely unnoticed. Sarzo looked and saw the number on the left read 289. "By a vote of 289 to 212, the House of Delegates has voted for the resolution. As of 7:36 a.m. Sarzonian Standard Time, the Incorporated States of Sarzonia has declared a state of war against the Free Lands of Pantera."
Sarzo stood up and walked out of the room, reflecting on the events that played out at dizzying speeds. One moment, he was eating breakfast with his First Partner, and seemingly minutes later -- and a lifetime hence -- he was the leader of a nation at war.
It's showtime.