United States of Brink
10-09-2005, 00:23
Part One: The September Rebellion
Zeeland Naval Port: Namibia
They waited, silent, tense, and excited. The heat of the desert had drifted off replaced by the chill night. The breathing was heavy, a soft grey mist rose above each head; eyes looked frantically in each direction. A swift wind had made steady progress through the docks. Off in the distance accompanied by a barking dog, a large chain gate banged against itself. The atmosphere was that of a horror movie, one could only imagine the haunting music of violins and sudden screeches in the background. The night sky was clear and the stars shone bright. The moon was out in full shine reflecting its eerie light upon the massive hulks of the fleet stationed there. The salt water lapped haplessly against the underbellies of these massive beasts that lay dormant for some time now. Thick rust was starting to develop along the hulls, thanks to the careless cleaning efforts of the tired crew. Still, they sat and waited tirelessly around the fence of the dock concealed in their rag tag black uniforms.
The crews of the small fleet sat bored in their barracks. The darkness had come and with that another long pointless day was about to conclude. They joked amongst each other, smoked cigarettes, and undressed into their sleeping clothes. They had been there almost 4 months now, with nothing to do, as if they were prisoners. Morale was at an all time low. The government had slowly collapsed, however not many people knew for it was discreet to the naked eye. With the collapse of the government came the collapsed of the country’s military services. The sailors had no orders, no money, and no freedom. They were still kept there by contract and guard, to them there was still something of a government left. They had been kept there without pay for nearly 4 months and the hatred just built up. It climaxed when a sailor deiced he had just about enough and left. He didn’t get very far for a MP shot him once in the back of the neck. To the sailors of the fleet, that was the last straw. They began to draw audacious plans for a mutiny against the MP and other government officials stationed in and around the dock. Sailors began to preach stories of their glorious uprising against tyranny. The plans had been drawn and the date set, tomorrow a dawn all hell would break lose. For now they had only to wait. In their minds they went over and over the plan. Every intricate detail was calculated, nothing was overlooked.
Their hands were covered in sweat as they grasped the back of their gas masks. The operatives slid the mask on over their night vision goggles. The green eyed men looked like demons against the solid black backdrop. Hands were trembling and nerves were twitching. The plan was simple. Once the tear gas was unleashed in the compound they would storm the fence and kill or capture everyone side. After securing the camp they would than scuttle the ships effectively eliminating Zeeland’s naval forces for the entire Atlantic Ocean. This would surely bring about the final blow needed to complete the utter collapse of the government in the eastern hemisphere. This ,along with the invasion of Zeeland’s claims in the Pacific by the nations of Krey and Cotland, would combine make the government of Zeeland cease to be, or that was at least the hope. The camp was ominously still. The wind had picked up and a faint swirling sound could be heard. Somewhere out in the Atlantic a storm was brewing and lighting illuminated the fleet as if an evil omen. The lead man’s watch struck 1 o’clock. He took a deep breathe and slowly let it out. Than he lifted his arms, steadying the butt of the launcher firm in his shoulder. As he did this, a line of men about 9 deep repeated his every move. Looking down the sights he closed his eyes and gently squeezed the trigger.
The men and women in the barracks woke to the disturbing racket of screams and sirens. Those who were first to the window or out the door saw the gas slowly lifting into the air, the shells so leaking the toxic chemicals throughout the compound. The tear gas had a slight green tint and swirled as it rose higher and higher into the air. The guard towers had become engulfed in this substance, the guards jumping 20 feet to the hard cement ground. Than came an unfamiliar sound. Soft zips whistles flew by the sailors impacting just behind them, whacking the brick buildings. Gradually the fire grew more intense and the sailors hit the ground covering their heads in shear fear and panic. The night sky had turned into a storm of led. The men crawled to whatever cover the surrounding Earth provided. They watched as troops charged the main gate to the northwest west of the camp, shooting of the padlock that kept them men prisoner for so many months. The attacking soldiers moved in in scattered groups, some running over to the down guards and firing, resulting in a fine red mist erupting from the incapacitated guards. The men were terrified yet put up no resistance. The surprise and confusion were complete in their victory turning the base into pure chaos. The sailors were given no weapons for fear of insurrection which would have happened regardless; therefore they could put up no resistance. With or without weapons the sailors wanted no part and would not have tried to defend themselves against the oncoming onslaught. The attackers became utterly confused; they were being welcomed as liberators. Within minutes the fire had ceased and an eerie calm settle over the chaotic naval base. With no loss of life to the sailors and others held in this makeshift hell, the attackers had realized there was no need to kill anyone because they had all just simply surrendered. In just under 20 minutes the attackers had no only captured a federal naval base with full fleet but had a full crew to man them.
Harvard Dugan received the call first. –Sir may I present to you the Atlantic Naval Fleet of Zeeland with full crew awaiting your command sir. - Lieutenant Ethan Raven
By a stroke of good luck Dugan’s rebellion had become a massive international threat overnight. He stood there stunned, mouth open, grinning from ear to ear. His mind jumped into action, plans were already being drawn up. When news reached the rest of country of the navy’s mutiny it would be come truly evident of the collapse of government. Surrounding nations would be sure to act fast setting up colonial governments and military installations to claim land for their own thriving nations. His ideas were simplistic and yet highly effective. He wanted nothing more than peace and prosperity. He wanted a government for the people by the people. Before his ideas were nothing more than an orators dream but with a naval fleet of substantial size behind his voice he was force to be considered. His actions would have to be fast, he would have to claims the masses hearts before a larger more powerful nation could enact their own power of the land of anarchy. His carrier strike force could not be used to instill fear in the populace that would not be good for his beliefs; instead he had to use it as a sign of power and protection.
Dugan was a man in his late 50’s. His hair had almost completely turned grey and a thick mustache had inhabited just above his upper lip. His eyes were drilled into the back of his head; he was quiet yet very opinionated. He was one of the best orators of his day; he could hold ones attention for hours on end leaving the person hanging on every hard spoken word. Before the collapse he was a territorial governor with a very high approval rating. During that time he had preached his beliefs of peace of democracy amongst the population and gained much favor. Over time he had developed an almost fanatical following called Sons of Freedom. Thrown in jail for allegedly planning an attack on federal soldiers, he was rescued by some followers one of which was his must trusted lieutenant, Ethan Raven. From than until the fall of Zeeland Dugan had remained in hiding still broadcasting his messages of freedom. Now he controlled this massive fleet and with that the ability to claim the country for the people and set up a revolutionary new idea of government. He had a chance to make history or become another failed attempt to get lost in history textbooks. The next 7 days would determine the outcome of Namibia and its people.
The world watched TV comfortably in their homes which displayed the crumbling nation of Zeeland. The chaos was absolute; an almost apocalyptic scene was engulfing every city including the capitol. Brave cameramen dashed from street corner to street corner taping the most horrific scenes. Sporadic groups of rebels armed to the teeth clashed in alleys and main fairways. Children ran in every direction trying to avoid the chaos that was falling around them. RPG blasts tore through buildings, bullets zaps and thuds around the cameraman, and grenades ripped up earth, flinging it high in the air. The news flashes were all the same, all horrific in their own assumptions. A steady stream of news ran past the screen. –Zeeland Government overthrown- -Sporadic gunfire heard throughout the city. - -Pacific claims under heavy attack from foreign nations- -Total Anarchy-
Somwhere off the Atlantic Coast of Africa
Ethan sat uneasy in his chair. He took a deep sigh and pulled himself up. The room around him was alive with activity, men and women toiled amongst their own jobs and duties. The window in the tower of the Carrier “Lakota” provided the perfect vantage point to over look his strike force. Although no experience in naval warfare he had been named provisional admiral of the entire fleet. He was young, only 24. His hair was dirty blond short and messy. As a result of not shaving his face had begun to develop a thin scruff. His eyes were a piercing blue his face rough. He was well built his body designed almost specifically for that of a soldier. Early in his life he was part of the Zeeland Special Operations team aka the ZsO. During a mission gone array, his team was abandoned by the Zeeland government and left to rot in rebel prison cells. It was in this hell and torture that his entire team was murdered. Minutes before it was about to become his turn he managed to turn the tide on his captors, escaping. He had not the strength to make it very far out in the desert alone without water. Luckily he was picked up by a member of the Sons of Freedom where he rose through the ranks to become Dugan’s top field agent. Now his fleet sailed for the capitol the plan of attack already set in motion. The fleet contained 2 medium sized carriers the Lakota and the Wilderness; 4 AGEIS cruisers the Killeen, the July, the Antioch, and the Antietam; 3 Cruisers the Roland, the Lincoln, and the McManus; and 1 nuclear submarine the Kaya. The fleet also contained other various craft that helped with logistics.
Zeeland’s land all over the globe was free for the taking. The war in the Pacific was already lost and now thrown up for grabs to surrounding nations. In Africa the situation was grim. The capitol along with every other city was in complete devastation. Government officials were being dragged from their homes and murdered, Federal buildings were being burned, and national banks being ransacked. Zeeland’s corrupt government had stretched itself thin. Its various pointless wars cost millions in life and money. The nation laid in devastation and tyranny. After the assassination of the President the government was thrown into disarray. With no leadership and no plan to recoup the government lay dormant for months. With this lack of Government the land was flung into widespread devastation and depression. The majority of the population became poor, suffering and dying in the streets. Soon the suffering turned into chaos and an almost civil war erupted. An assortment of factions soon rose to power fighting for control of certain areas of land. However with the help of foreign intervention most factions were destroyed or disbanded. Foreign governments took advantage of the dire situation and claimed the unlawful lands for their own. Some even ended up deadlocked in war for claims in the pacific and tensions began to heat up in Africa. The only area so far that has been left to the fighting factions was Namibia. It was here that the last stand for Zealander’s could be effectively made.
The thud of helicopters sounded off in the distance. All guns trained on the target several miles off portside. There were two; they were Black hawks containing Dugan and his personal staff. The sound grew more intense as they neared the Lakota. The steady chop the blades through air began to slow as the helicopters began to land. Ethan was standing just off the helipad waiting to greet Dugan and the others. Off the second chopper was a news crew along with the annoying reporters. There were the traditional hellos and handshakes, and pointless chitchat before Dugan and Raven broke off from the rest of the group. Two soldiers escorted the news crew to their rooms below deck to set up as Dugan and Ethan made their way to the bridge. They would be in the capitol before sunrise tomorrow morning. They would make their presence known, they would make history.
Off the Coast of the Capitol of Namibia
The chill of a gentle dawn air was quickly being replaced by the steady heat of a South African morning. The darkness of night was fading revealing a mystifying orange glow that coated the land. The sounds of fighting had begun to lull. Everyone had given in to such a beautiful morning; the air was crisp and moist. The cities had become quiet the only noise coming from a barking dog or the flap of laundry hanging high out someone’s window. The morning light revealed yet another surprise, a fleet anchored just yards off the coastline. The fleet had a dominating presence upon the city standing high above the docks like a concerned father. High above the city navy fighter pilots soared and rolled startling those who slept. By now the entire city was awake their necks stained upwards marveling at the special unfolding around them. They watched as a helicopter took off the flight deck of a huge carrier within the battle group. The jets immediately began to circle the chopper providing un-needed air cover. The roar of the huge engines shook surrounding buildings and blew up huge amounts of dust and sand. It made its way toward the capitol obviously taking its time, displaying its authority. Locals rushed underneath curious of its yet unknown destination. It began to lower in the parking lot in front of the majestic white marble capitol building. With the rudders beating hard a team of 5 men quickly darted from out of the hold securing the surrounding area. Leading this escort team was non-other than Lt. Raven. The dust created a yellow vortex around the black hawk. When the area was secure Dugan stepped down with a grand eloquence. Following him was a camera team along with a reporter. Escorted by Raven’s team Dugan marched into the abandoned building scary stray cats and dogs that made the capitol their home. A few homeless were shuffled out as well by Raven’s team. The helicopter lifted off only to replaced by a second this time disbanding 3 teams of special forces to secure the outside perimeter of the building. Snipers took position atop the building to conduct anti-sniper runs and aerial cover. This combined with the jet fighter and naval fleet made the occupation complete, objective one had gone smoothly with no casualties or problems.
A few blocks away a small firefight had erupted. Gunfire became sporadic, as if turned on and off by a switch. The lull in the fighting was not to be permanent, not yet at least. Dugan stepped up to the podium, a dominating figure at that. His hair had been combed and his moustache trimmed. He fiddled with his tie and read over his notes. Ethan stood just behind, hidden from camera view but close enough to provide security. He glanced up at the sound of far away gunfire. He shook his head and sighed. An aide was quickly on him, whispering something into his ear. The aide vanished and a huge grin took over Dugan’s face. He looked up at one of the camera men and smiled. Lights suddenly turned on around him, a light on the camera in front of him turned red and a camera men signaled 5 seconds with his hand. 4-3-2-1 We’re live.
Local programs were interrupted by a special news flash. All across the world news stations played the same live feed. Dugan stood at his podium and cleared his throat. He stared right into the lens of the camera and began to speak. “My name is Harvard Dugan. I come to you today from the steps of the Namibia Capitol building. Our fair city has been thrown into turmoil with the collapse of the Government of Zeeland. But no more shall Namibian blood be shed!” His voice was picking up, his emotions flaring. He had been waiting for this moment his entire life. He continued, “The Naval and Armed Force of Zeeland have mutinied against the government and our now fighting for the cause of freedom and democracy. Even now the Atlantic Naval Fleet is stationed just off the coast of the capitol awaiting sick and wounded for immediate medical attention. Even now the Zeeland Army is en route to the capitol to provide peace and stability in this time of crisis. Humanitarian aid is on its way from various countries to provide essential living materials. We are providing whatever help we can to the people of Namibia who have been devastated by the disintegration of the government. We ask all citizens to disarm, put down your weapons. In this time of need we must not fight but unite for the better of everyone. We are vulnerable and weak; we must unite to protect ourselves from foreign invasion. As we speak 40,000 foreign troops are being evacuated from bases all along the Namibian border. Times are scary that much we understand, we will do whatever it takes to keep the city and Namibia safe. All we ask in return is your cooperation and your kindness. We will stand strong, we will survive!” It was there that he stopped. He knew better than to dive right into politics. He also knew that right now that’s not what mattered. What mattered was the safety of his country to be.
Capitol of Namibia
Dugan sat uneasily at his desk, which was a rag tag table purchased at a local market nearby. He leaned back and rubbed his forehead with a clean rag kept in his right jacket pocket. He flexed his fingers, feeling his age as they cracked. He looked up at Raven who was reading the note. Raven placed the note down and slid it across the table back to Dugan. “This is great news sir, why do you look so downtrodden?” Harvard studied Ethan’s face noticed bags under his eyes; of course the young boy probably hasn’t slept for days now. Raven blinked hard revealing his true state of exhaustion.
“Great news it is, but right now we must view everything with suspicion. We will obviously accept the humanitarian aid, which will most surely help broaden support for our cause. Lieutenant it is the peacekeepers we much keep an eye on.” Dugan spoke with a soft intensity, drilling the words into Raven’s mind.
Raven spoke up, “If you don’t mind me saying sir, we could really use the extra troops as a police force.”
“I don’t mind at all you are entirely right. But remember; right now we are beyond venerable. We still have those 40,000 troops that need to be evacuated; we don’t want these two nations colliding. Regardless this sort of thing could pull us into foreign affairs if we ever get the government back up. Remember they recognized us as an independent country, I find it hard to believe they would spend millions on relief effort while wanting nothing in return.” He stopped and took a deep breathe than continued, “Maybe I’m just being naïve. I guess I’ve forgotten the good in the world. Well anyway the best thing to do is play it by the book. We’ll set up a meeting with the Cottish government for tomorrow. Hopefully a published meeting will boost morale for the cause as well as gain some support from the rest of the world. An alliance it seems is a casualty we’ll have to take.” He had become quite emotional. Embarrassed he turned away from the eager stare of Raven. “Raven…why don’t you get yourself some rest looks like you good use it.”
The fleet stood just a few miles of the coast still anchored in line with the capitol. The fleet too had received the same message that Dugan did as long as orders from the inland government. They were to stand down to any Cottish vessel in the area and provide escort of humanitarian aid ships coming from the Cottish Government. However they were to keep up a vigilant suspicion at all times, not allowing the Cottish fleet out of there sights. The sailors were in high spirits; finally they were on the move again back in action. The fact that they’d be getting paid to also added to the festivities. This new government was fulfilling all of its promises. Along with the navy all Zeeland land forces had switched to the rebellion. The transfer of power was coming along a lot smoother than planned. The chaos in the streets had slowed to a tickle, relief and aid was on its way, and jobs were re-opening. The fleet was promised a little R & R in a few months, when everything started to settle itself out. They were resigned for another 2 years of active service however this they agreed to without distaste. Life it seemed was improving by the day. The fleet commander, now Admiral J.J Clayton former commander of the fleet while under Zeeland control, stood high on the bridge of the flagship Lakota. The fleet stood tall and majestic over the clear blue waters of the South Atlantic. An urgent message interrupted the serene mode. Fleet stationed roughly 30 miles of coast of Namibia. Clayton smiled ‘the Cottish’ he thought. There was no need to panic but as the orders said they must keep in a state of ready. Another urgent message flashed across the screen. A midshipmen’s voice spoke up. “Sir we just pinged something a few miles of are starboard end!”
“What was it,” replied the now nervous admiral.
“Had to be a submarine, it’s hard to tell. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it, if it is a sub it’s the damn quietest I’ve ever encountered.”
“Couldn’t be an attack sub than, it would make more noise than that, plus it wouldn’t ever get that close to a carrier strike force. Remember our orders we are to stand down. No need starting a war over a recon sub.”
Dugan was now faced with his first problem while in office. One shouldn’t really say office. Since there was no real government he had to assume the control as a dictator for the time being, the exact thing his rebellion was fighting against. With this in mind he realized the importance of stabilizing the city as well as Namibia before the democratic government could be installed. First he had to deal with the humanitarian and foreign aid now beginning to pour into the city. His main objective was to distribute the much needed aid to as many people as possible. Also on the list of things to do was the importance of rebuilding the infrastructure of the many cities destroyed by civil strife. Many people were still without food, water, and electricity. He had to keep and eye on the Cottish forces now poised at his borders waiting to enter to help in the aid. There were still 40,000 troops stationed in Namibia that had asked to be escorted out of the country. He had some 73 million people that had to be cared for as well as protected.
That was not the end of his worries. Upon learning of the failing Zeeland government, Dugan had sent one of his most trusted aids into the bordering country of Botswana which was also under Zeeland control. Realizing that now he had the money as well as the power he hoped to encourage the people of Botswana to join his rebellion and form of government. The cards were on the table it seemed; now Dugan and the rest of the world could only wait and see how the people would react.
Two Weeks Later
A lot had happen since the rise of the Republic two weeks earlier. There were no longer any foreign troops on Brinkman soil. Humanitarian aid had been widely distributed to great success. The violence had almost ceased to exist, thanks to the efforts of the former Zeeland Army and the volunteer police forces that took up arms in the country’s cities. With the return of vital necessities such as running water, electricity, and food the country had begun to rebuild from the destruction of the depression. Jobs had filled rapidly due to the increased number of rebuilding jobs and duties. Schools which were rebuilt or unaffected were soon back in service much to the dismay of local students. Even with the 50 + million donated by countries such as Cotland, there was not nearly enough money to fix the situation. The provisional government had sent out an urgent plea for all citizens to pitch in and help the reconstruction effort. The citizens, with their new found freedoms, were more than willing to meet the call. The country was begging to emerge from the smoke and rubble of destruction, slowly rebuilding itself into a beautiful free country.
What most citizens were dying to hear was the announcement on the very first election. Just a few days ago Harvard Dugan along with a number of high ranking rebellion leaders and city provisional governors had signed the Brinkman Republic’s Declaration of Independence. This document, which will forever go down in Brinkman history as well as the worlds, signified the start of official government as well as the country as a whole. The upcoming election would soon decide the articles of the “to be” Constitution. Everyone would have a say, everyone could vote, everyone is as equal as the next person and can rise as far as talent can take them. The anticipation of the entire nation was ecstatic. There would finally be a voice for the voiceless.
Part Two: A Knight in Ashes
Botswana lay just east of Namibia. Its rolling tableland and desolate desert combine to a total area just less of that of Namibia. Its many rivers and lakes provided the water needed for life to thrive in such a remote countryside. This small, rather isolated country is home to one of the world’s most dominating mining industries for minerals such as demands and silver. Millions flock to seek their fortune yet this Wild West style industry leaves many poor and homeless. When the Zeeland Government crumbled and the doors of anarchy were thrown open all chaos broke lose.
Most all government and corporate leaders in the area were publicly executed following the announcement of the destruction of the national government. The depression saw millions lose their lives, jobs, and families yet those leaders stayed above it all. They saw the death and poverty and said nor did anything to stop it. They turned the other way as women were raped and killed in broad daylight. Now it was their turn to pay for the horrific situation they put the population in. The vengeance was swift and unforgiving. The national bank was robbed and burned to the ground. Most cities saw riots and were burned to the ground. Anarchy was law, and chaos ruled the streets. With such utter confusion bordering nations saw the opportunity, their armies mobilized and poised to strike.
The eyes of the world were not the only ones now watching the situation in Botswana. With the end of anarchy in Namibia and the elections continuing with out interruption, Dugan saw the opportunity as a chance to spread his ideals and set upon building a world power. His power hungry ideals did not go unchecked however. The new form of government was setting in and already it was working with such precision. His actions would surely be noticed and he would be marked a tyrant, and dictator; this was the very thing he rebelled against. His country was vulnerable, weak, and small. If another nation wanted to grab Botswana for themselves why would they stop there? The world had not yet truly recognized the Brinkman Republic, to an invading country it would be the same as Botswana. He needed to expand, become stronger, than the world would consider them and for the time being his boarders would be quiet. Then the country would be able to lie low, to build based on this new principle to slowly and silently become a player in world affairs. Yet he was still bound by the government he himself had instated. With the elections only days away something needed to be done.
A few days from Elections
The answer was simple, in the form of a man. His name was Timothy Farrell, son of the chief of police of Namibia. He was average in height, very well built and highly educated. He was among the political back drop of the rebellion in Namibia not associated with the military. He conducted behind the scenes paperwork and outwardly supported the cause. He was ambassador to Cotland and Krey during the humanitarian relief after the capture of Namibia and won favor with the local population. He was an easily likable man, in his early 40’s. During his time with the rebellion he spent much of if working for Dugan and become a close friend and ally. It was only natural for him to run for president against Dugan during the elections. This Dugan hoped would work right into his hands.
The elections were only 2 days away. For the first time in Namibia history, now the Brinkman Republic, there was to be a debate amongst the 3 candidates which were running for president. The other candidate was Jamio Fitzgerald, a small feisty man from southern Brink. Although not open about it he was almost anti-rebellion and was running to bring the old ways of the Zeeeland government back to prosperity. Although it was doubtful that he would even come close to winning the effort was still made. Ironically this had an even better effect for the cause, allowing an opposing party to become elected showed great belief that the people were really free. Before the debate had even started Dugan appeared before the Namibia and the world for that matter. CNN broadcasted the entire thing late into the night. Harvard Dugan had removed himself from the race and put his fill support around Farrell. His cause he stated “Was to show the world that this government is not a dictatorship but a free democracy…I have secured our independence now it is time for the country to elect its on leader not based on gratitude or military heroism but upon political and civil rights.” The country was shocked, yet excited. Dugan as did the rest of the country new that the votes that were going to go for him would now go to Farrell who would secure the win. It was time now for him to begin his real work without the restrictions.
Botswana’s chaotic ordeal was subsiding and a provisional dictatorship was installed to regain peace in the major cities. Amazingly the foreign powers surrounding Botswana had backed off leaving the country in anarchy and ripe for the taking. For the most part the people of Botswana were watching Brink with impatience eyes. They too wished the freedoms now granted by the Brink Government. With a dictatorship as the government the masses were for the most part kept quiet. Political figures soon emerged from Botswana asking for help from Dugan and Brink. Dugan was eager to extend the rule of Brink over the people expanding the country and boosting the population by about half. With Botswana not only came a sizable country but thousands of precious materials such as diamonds. With Botswana under control the economy would surely sky rocket and the Brinkman Republic would start to become a world power before it was even a teenager. However there was still a problem that prevented him as well as other countries from invading Botswana. Along with the harsh unforgiving climate, Botswana rebels under the leadership of the dictator had begun to recruit and secure various cities and borders. It was a clear occupation, which would never work, if Dugan had anything to do with it. However before he could go in, and with the support of the country, he needed a ligament reason. He knew he could count of Farrell to support the expansion of the country to Botswana but he still needed a spark to get the people behind them. What he needed was the country to be thrown into complete anarchy again, what he needed was Ethan Raven.
Day of Elections
The firestorm had begun in earnest. Brink was knee deep in political turmoil surrounding the elections however things were going as planed for the most part. Huge amounts of money were spent on the election security and officials from all over the world brought in to witness and this historic event. The turnout at first was slow, almost a trickle yet as the day wore on the trickle became a flood and nearly 80 % of the population had reached the poles. A few minor security breaches were all that interrupted the masses from voting at local voting stations. When the people got back to their houses and turned on their television to see the outcome of the event they were subject to something else, something maybe even bigger than the elections. They saw the chaotic results of an assassinated leader in Botswana. The country was one again thrown into complete and utter chaos. With no government or police force looting was the norm, vigilance ruled the day. To the people of Brink it was as if these people cried out for help, they needed a government and it was clear the people of Brink had just the one for them.
The news broadcasted it all day, over and over. The provisional dictator of Botswana was found dead in his sleep, his head covered in a plastic bag. He was murdered by “a local rebellion group”. What the world missed was this “rebel group” was a Brink agent, the best agent they had. It was Ethan Raven. With the country now in mayhem Harvard ready his small force of former Zeeeland troops and a brigade of Brink troops. The combined force was just under 8,000 troops. Most of the Zeeeland soldiers had been giving honorable discharges if they wished to go, some however didn’t and a few came back to serve until the government could raise its own army. They stood on the border ready for the go ahead from the government. It could take anywhere from 1- 4 days. Time was not a luxury they could afford. Opening the country up to anarchy put it on the market not only for the republic of Brink but for the surrounding countries as well. If they wanted Botswana they’d have to act fast and decisive.
As it would turn out, it was all in vain…in a good way. The day after the elections it was made official, Farrell had been elected the first ever president of the Brinkman Republic. That same day with the consent of the people he ordered Harvard to invade Botswana and set up a interim government until order was restored. At the same time Farrell received a call from Nat Javar. Javar had assumed the temporary leader of the Botswana capitol and had gained influence over much of the country. Amazed at the quickness of such a takeover Farrell had no choice but to listen to what this man had to say. With Harvard’s army just a few miles out from the Botswana capitol the conversation was critical. Javar was sympathetic to the Brink cause. He had been the leader of the rebellion against Zeeeland during the same time Dugan was leading his. He believed in the same ideals but was unable to gain ground and support amongst his peers. Now after the death of the dictator and the loss of life during the chaos much of the nation was eager to restore peace and order. With the capture of Namibia by the Brink rebellion the people than listened to Javar’s cause and rallied behind him. It was only a matter of time before they killed the dictator first. His peopled watched as the elections went ahead undisturbed and they too ask for the same treatment. They were willing to lay down their arms and join the Brink government if they were allowed the same rights as the people in the former country of Namibia. A day into the first presidency and a war had been avoided and another country added to the Brinkman Republic.
Dugan’s troops entered city after city to cheering crowds. Thousands of people crowded the streets and blew kisses to the soldiers. They had met a hero’s welcome. Farrell still faced a slight problem. The elections had concluded and yet Botswana had no say. With much of Brink and all of Botswana still in need of humanitarian aid something had to be done for organization. What lay ahead would be years of reconstruction. The answer came from Javar. The two counties would combine into one. Than the country would be divided into 5 states, Farrell staying the overall president. This would give each state the ability to elect its own governor and various other officials. The government would be an exact replica of the United States of America with only minor differences. This would also allow the prioritizing of Humanitarian aid to the states that need it most. With the change in the land going smoothly and reconstruction underway there was nothing more to do than sit back and wait for the United States of Brink to evolve into a world power.
Aftermath
Farrell would remain in president until next elections.
Dugan retired from his military career in favor of a political one and was elected governor of New Namibia.
Javar would be elected governor of New Botswana.
Raven remains in the armed forces serving as a splinter cell for the government.
The former Zeeeland fleet would later be renamed “The September Fleet” after the month when it all began.
Zeeland Naval Port: Namibia
They waited, silent, tense, and excited. The heat of the desert had drifted off replaced by the chill night. The breathing was heavy, a soft grey mist rose above each head; eyes looked frantically in each direction. A swift wind had made steady progress through the docks. Off in the distance accompanied by a barking dog, a large chain gate banged against itself. The atmosphere was that of a horror movie, one could only imagine the haunting music of violins and sudden screeches in the background. The night sky was clear and the stars shone bright. The moon was out in full shine reflecting its eerie light upon the massive hulks of the fleet stationed there. The salt water lapped haplessly against the underbellies of these massive beasts that lay dormant for some time now. Thick rust was starting to develop along the hulls, thanks to the careless cleaning efforts of the tired crew. Still, they sat and waited tirelessly around the fence of the dock concealed in their rag tag black uniforms.
The crews of the small fleet sat bored in their barracks. The darkness had come and with that another long pointless day was about to conclude. They joked amongst each other, smoked cigarettes, and undressed into their sleeping clothes. They had been there almost 4 months now, with nothing to do, as if they were prisoners. Morale was at an all time low. The government had slowly collapsed, however not many people knew for it was discreet to the naked eye. With the collapse of the government came the collapsed of the country’s military services. The sailors had no orders, no money, and no freedom. They were still kept there by contract and guard, to them there was still something of a government left. They had been kept there without pay for nearly 4 months and the hatred just built up. It climaxed when a sailor deiced he had just about enough and left. He didn’t get very far for a MP shot him once in the back of the neck. To the sailors of the fleet, that was the last straw. They began to draw audacious plans for a mutiny against the MP and other government officials stationed in and around the dock. Sailors began to preach stories of their glorious uprising against tyranny. The plans had been drawn and the date set, tomorrow a dawn all hell would break lose. For now they had only to wait. In their minds they went over and over the plan. Every intricate detail was calculated, nothing was overlooked.
Their hands were covered in sweat as they grasped the back of their gas masks. The operatives slid the mask on over their night vision goggles. The green eyed men looked like demons against the solid black backdrop. Hands were trembling and nerves were twitching. The plan was simple. Once the tear gas was unleashed in the compound they would storm the fence and kill or capture everyone side. After securing the camp they would than scuttle the ships effectively eliminating Zeeland’s naval forces for the entire Atlantic Ocean. This would surely bring about the final blow needed to complete the utter collapse of the government in the eastern hemisphere. This ,along with the invasion of Zeeland’s claims in the Pacific by the nations of Krey and Cotland, would combine make the government of Zeeland cease to be, or that was at least the hope. The camp was ominously still. The wind had picked up and a faint swirling sound could be heard. Somewhere out in the Atlantic a storm was brewing and lighting illuminated the fleet as if an evil omen. The lead man’s watch struck 1 o’clock. He took a deep breathe and slowly let it out. Than he lifted his arms, steadying the butt of the launcher firm in his shoulder. As he did this, a line of men about 9 deep repeated his every move. Looking down the sights he closed his eyes and gently squeezed the trigger.
The men and women in the barracks woke to the disturbing racket of screams and sirens. Those who were first to the window or out the door saw the gas slowly lifting into the air, the shells so leaking the toxic chemicals throughout the compound. The tear gas had a slight green tint and swirled as it rose higher and higher into the air. The guard towers had become engulfed in this substance, the guards jumping 20 feet to the hard cement ground. Than came an unfamiliar sound. Soft zips whistles flew by the sailors impacting just behind them, whacking the brick buildings. Gradually the fire grew more intense and the sailors hit the ground covering their heads in shear fear and panic. The night sky had turned into a storm of led. The men crawled to whatever cover the surrounding Earth provided. They watched as troops charged the main gate to the northwest west of the camp, shooting of the padlock that kept them men prisoner for so many months. The attacking soldiers moved in in scattered groups, some running over to the down guards and firing, resulting in a fine red mist erupting from the incapacitated guards. The men were terrified yet put up no resistance. The surprise and confusion were complete in their victory turning the base into pure chaos. The sailors were given no weapons for fear of insurrection which would have happened regardless; therefore they could put up no resistance. With or without weapons the sailors wanted no part and would not have tried to defend themselves against the oncoming onslaught. The attackers became utterly confused; they were being welcomed as liberators. Within minutes the fire had ceased and an eerie calm settle over the chaotic naval base. With no loss of life to the sailors and others held in this makeshift hell, the attackers had realized there was no need to kill anyone because they had all just simply surrendered. In just under 20 minutes the attackers had no only captured a federal naval base with full fleet but had a full crew to man them.
Harvard Dugan received the call first. –Sir may I present to you the Atlantic Naval Fleet of Zeeland with full crew awaiting your command sir. - Lieutenant Ethan Raven
By a stroke of good luck Dugan’s rebellion had become a massive international threat overnight. He stood there stunned, mouth open, grinning from ear to ear. His mind jumped into action, plans were already being drawn up. When news reached the rest of country of the navy’s mutiny it would be come truly evident of the collapse of government. Surrounding nations would be sure to act fast setting up colonial governments and military installations to claim land for their own thriving nations. His ideas were simplistic and yet highly effective. He wanted nothing more than peace and prosperity. He wanted a government for the people by the people. Before his ideas were nothing more than an orators dream but with a naval fleet of substantial size behind his voice he was force to be considered. His actions would have to be fast, he would have to claims the masses hearts before a larger more powerful nation could enact their own power of the land of anarchy. His carrier strike force could not be used to instill fear in the populace that would not be good for his beliefs; instead he had to use it as a sign of power and protection.
Dugan was a man in his late 50’s. His hair had almost completely turned grey and a thick mustache had inhabited just above his upper lip. His eyes were drilled into the back of his head; he was quiet yet very opinionated. He was one of the best orators of his day; he could hold ones attention for hours on end leaving the person hanging on every hard spoken word. Before the collapse he was a territorial governor with a very high approval rating. During that time he had preached his beliefs of peace of democracy amongst the population and gained much favor. Over time he had developed an almost fanatical following called Sons of Freedom. Thrown in jail for allegedly planning an attack on federal soldiers, he was rescued by some followers one of which was his must trusted lieutenant, Ethan Raven. From than until the fall of Zeeland Dugan had remained in hiding still broadcasting his messages of freedom. Now he controlled this massive fleet and with that the ability to claim the country for the people and set up a revolutionary new idea of government. He had a chance to make history or become another failed attempt to get lost in history textbooks. The next 7 days would determine the outcome of Namibia and its people.
The world watched TV comfortably in their homes which displayed the crumbling nation of Zeeland. The chaos was absolute; an almost apocalyptic scene was engulfing every city including the capitol. Brave cameramen dashed from street corner to street corner taping the most horrific scenes. Sporadic groups of rebels armed to the teeth clashed in alleys and main fairways. Children ran in every direction trying to avoid the chaos that was falling around them. RPG blasts tore through buildings, bullets zaps and thuds around the cameraman, and grenades ripped up earth, flinging it high in the air. The news flashes were all the same, all horrific in their own assumptions. A steady stream of news ran past the screen. –Zeeland Government overthrown- -Sporadic gunfire heard throughout the city. - -Pacific claims under heavy attack from foreign nations- -Total Anarchy-
Somwhere off the Atlantic Coast of Africa
Ethan sat uneasy in his chair. He took a deep sigh and pulled himself up. The room around him was alive with activity, men and women toiled amongst their own jobs and duties. The window in the tower of the Carrier “Lakota” provided the perfect vantage point to over look his strike force. Although no experience in naval warfare he had been named provisional admiral of the entire fleet. He was young, only 24. His hair was dirty blond short and messy. As a result of not shaving his face had begun to develop a thin scruff. His eyes were a piercing blue his face rough. He was well built his body designed almost specifically for that of a soldier. Early in his life he was part of the Zeeland Special Operations team aka the ZsO. During a mission gone array, his team was abandoned by the Zeeland government and left to rot in rebel prison cells. It was in this hell and torture that his entire team was murdered. Minutes before it was about to become his turn he managed to turn the tide on his captors, escaping. He had not the strength to make it very far out in the desert alone without water. Luckily he was picked up by a member of the Sons of Freedom where he rose through the ranks to become Dugan’s top field agent. Now his fleet sailed for the capitol the plan of attack already set in motion. The fleet contained 2 medium sized carriers the Lakota and the Wilderness; 4 AGEIS cruisers the Killeen, the July, the Antioch, and the Antietam; 3 Cruisers the Roland, the Lincoln, and the McManus; and 1 nuclear submarine the Kaya. The fleet also contained other various craft that helped with logistics.
Zeeland’s land all over the globe was free for the taking. The war in the Pacific was already lost and now thrown up for grabs to surrounding nations. In Africa the situation was grim. The capitol along with every other city was in complete devastation. Government officials were being dragged from their homes and murdered, Federal buildings were being burned, and national banks being ransacked. Zeeland’s corrupt government had stretched itself thin. Its various pointless wars cost millions in life and money. The nation laid in devastation and tyranny. After the assassination of the President the government was thrown into disarray. With no leadership and no plan to recoup the government lay dormant for months. With this lack of Government the land was flung into widespread devastation and depression. The majority of the population became poor, suffering and dying in the streets. Soon the suffering turned into chaos and an almost civil war erupted. An assortment of factions soon rose to power fighting for control of certain areas of land. However with the help of foreign intervention most factions were destroyed or disbanded. Foreign governments took advantage of the dire situation and claimed the unlawful lands for their own. Some even ended up deadlocked in war for claims in the pacific and tensions began to heat up in Africa. The only area so far that has been left to the fighting factions was Namibia. It was here that the last stand for Zealander’s could be effectively made.
The thud of helicopters sounded off in the distance. All guns trained on the target several miles off portside. There were two; they were Black hawks containing Dugan and his personal staff. The sound grew more intense as they neared the Lakota. The steady chop the blades through air began to slow as the helicopters began to land. Ethan was standing just off the helipad waiting to greet Dugan and the others. Off the second chopper was a news crew along with the annoying reporters. There were the traditional hellos and handshakes, and pointless chitchat before Dugan and Raven broke off from the rest of the group. Two soldiers escorted the news crew to their rooms below deck to set up as Dugan and Ethan made their way to the bridge. They would be in the capitol before sunrise tomorrow morning. They would make their presence known, they would make history.
Off the Coast of the Capitol of Namibia
The chill of a gentle dawn air was quickly being replaced by the steady heat of a South African morning. The darkness of night was fading revealing a mystifying orange glow that coated the land. The sounds of fighting had begun to lull. Everyone had given in to such a beautiful morning; the air was crisp and moist. The cities had become quiet the only noise coming from a barking dog or the flap of laundry hanging high out someone’s window. The morning light revealed yet another surprise, a fleet anchored just yards off the coastline. The fleet had a dominating presence upon the city standing high above the docks like a concerned father. High above the city navy fighter pilots soared and rolled startling those who slept. By now the entire city was awake their necks stained upwards marveling at the special unfolding around them. They watched as a helicopter took off the flight deck of a huge carrier within the battle group. The jets immediately began to circle the chopper providing un-needed air cover. The roar of the huge engines shook surrounding buildings and blew up huge amounts of dust and sand. It made its way toward the capitol obviously taking its time, displaying its authority. Locals rushed underneath curious of its yet unknown destination. It began to lower in the parking lot in front of the majestic white marble capitol building. With the rudders beating hard a team of 5 men quickly darted from out of the hold securing the surrounding area. Leading this escort team was non-other than Lt. Raven. The dust created a yellow vortex around the black hawk. When the area was secure Dugan stepped down with a grand eloquence. Following him was a camera team along with a reporter. Escorted by Raven’s team Dugan marched into the abandoned building scary stray cats and dogs that made the capitol their home. A few homeless were shuffled out as well by Raven’s team. The helicopter lifted off only to replaced by a second this time disbanding 3 teams of special forces to secure the outside perimeter of the building. Snipers took position atop the building to conduct anti-sniper runs and aerial cover. This combined with the jet fighter and naval fleet made the occupation complete, objective one had gone smoothly with no casualties or problems.
A few blocks away a small firefight had erupted. Gunfire became sporadic, as if turned on and off by a switch. The lull in the fighting was not to be permanent, not yet at least. Dugan stepped up to the podium, a dominating figure at that. His hair had been combed and his moustache trimmed. He fiddled with his tie and read over his notes. Ethan stood just behind, hidden from camera view but close enough to provide security. He glanced up at the sound of far away gunfire. He shook his head and sighed. An aide was quickly on him, whispering something into his ear. The aide vanished and a huge grin took over Dugan’s face. He looked up at one of the camera men and smiled. Lights suddenly turned on around him, a light on the camera in front of him turned red and a camera men signaled 5 seconds with his hand. 4-3-2-1 We’re live.
Local programs were interrupted by a special news flash. All across the world news stations played the same live feed. Dugan stood at his podium and cleared his throat. He stared right into the lens of the camera and began to speak. “My name is Harvard Dugan. I come to you today from the steps of the Namibia Capitol building. Our fair city has been thrown into turmoil with the collapse of the Government of Zeeland. But no more shall Namibian blood be shed!” His voice was picking up, his emotions flaring. He had been waiting for this moment his entire life. He continued, “The Naval and Armed Force of Zeeland have mutinied against the government and our now fighting for the cause of freedom and democracy. Even now the Atlantic Naval Fleet is stationed just off the coast of the capitol awaiting sick and wounded for immediate medical attention. Even now the Zeeland Army is en route to the capitol to provide peace and stability in this time of crisis. Humanitarian aid is on its way from various countries to provide essential living materials. We are providing whatever help we can to the people of Namibia who have been devastated by the disintegration of the government. We ask all citizens to disarm, put down your weapons. In this time of need we must not fight but unite for the better of everyone. We are vulnerable and weak; we must unite to protect ourselves from foreign invasion. As we speak 40,000 foreign troops are being evacuated from bases all along the Namibian border. Times are scary that much we understand, we will do whatever it takes to keep the city and Namibia safe. All we ask in return is your cooperation and your kindness. We will stand strong, we will survive!” It was there that he stopped. He knew better than to dive right into politics. He also knew that right now that’s not what mattered. What mattered was the safety of his country to be.
Capitol of Namibia
Dugan sat uneasily at his desk, which was a rag tag table purchased at a local market nearby. He leaned back and rubbed his forehead with a clean rag kept in his right jacket pocket. He flexed his fingers, feeling his age as they cracked. He looked up at Raven who was reading the note. Raven placed the note down and slid it across the table back to Dugan. “This is great news sir, why do you look so downtrodden?” Harvard studied Ethan’s face noticed bags under his eyes; of course the young boy probably hasn’t slept for days now. Raven blinked hard revealing his true state of exhaustion.
“Great news it is, but right now we must view everything with suspicion. We will obviously accept the humanitarian aid, which will most surely help broaden support for our cause. Lieutenant it is the peacekeepers we much keep an eye on.” Dugan spoke with a soft intensity, drilling the words into Raven’s mind.
Raven spoke up, “If you don’t mind me saying sir, we could really use the extra troops as a police force.”
“I don’t mind at all you are entirely right. But remember; right now we are beyond venerable. We still have those 40,000 troops that need to be evacuated; we don’t want these two nations colliding. Regardless this sort of thing could pull us into foreign affairs if we ever get the government back up. Remember they recognized us as an independent country, I find it hard to believe they would spend millions on relief effort while wanting nothing in return.” He stopped and took a deep breathe than continued, “Maybe I’m just being naïve. I guess I’ve forgotten the good in the world. Well anyway the best thing to do is play it by the book. We’ll set up a meeting with the Cottish government for tomorrow. Hopefully a published meeting will boost morale for the cause as well as gain some support from the rest of the world. An alliance it seems is a casualty we’ll have to take.” He had become quite emotional. Embarrassed he turned away from the eager stare of Raven. “Raven…why don’t you get yourself some rest looks like you good use it.”
The fleet stood just a few miles of the coast still anchored in line with the capitol. The fleet too had received the same message that Dugan did as long as orders from the inland government. They were to stand down to any Cottish vessel in the area and provide escort of humanitarian aid ships coming from the Cottish Government. However they were to keep up a vigilant suspicion at all times, not allowing the Cottish fleet out of there sights. The sailors were in high spirits; finally they were on the move again back in action. The fact that they’d be getting paid to also added to the festivities. This new government was fulfilling all of its promises. Along with the navy all Zeeland land forces had switched to the rebellion. The transfer of power was coming along a lot smoother than planned. The chaos in the streets had slowed to a tickle, relief and aid was on its way, and jobs were re-opening. The fleet was promised a little R & R in a few months, when everything started to settle itself out. They were resigned for another 2 years of active service however this they agreed to without distaste. Life it seemed was improving by the day. The fleet commander, now Admiral J.J Clayton former commander of the fleet while under Zeeland control, stood high on the bridge of the flagship Lakota. The fleet stood tall and majestic over the clear blue waters of the South Atlantic. An urgent message interrupted the serene mode. Fleet stationed roughly 30 miles of coast of Namibia. Clayton smiled ‘the Cottish’ he thought. There was no need to panic but as the orders said they must keep in a state of ready. Another urgent message flashed across the screen. A midshipmen’s voice spoke up. “Sir we just pinged something a few miles of are starboard end!”
“What was it,” replied the now nervous admiral.
“Had to be a submarine, it’s hard to tell. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it, if it is a sub it’s the damn quietest I’ve ever encountered.”
“Couldn’t be an attack sub than, it would make more noise than that, plus it wouldn’t ever get that close to a carrier strike force. Remember our orders we are to stand down. No need starting a war over a recon sub.”
Dugan was now faced with his first problem while in office. One shouldn’t really say office. Since there was no real government he had to assume the control as a dictator for the time being, the exact thing his rebellion was fighting against. With this in mind he realized the importance of stabilizing the city as well as Namibia before the democratic government could be installed. First he had to deal with the humanitarian and foreign aid now beginning to pour into the city. His main objective was to distribute the much needed aid to as many people as possible. Also on the list of things to do was the importance of rebuilding the infrastructure of the many cities destroyed by civil strife. Many people were still without food, water, and electricity. He had to keep and eye on the Cottish forces now poised at his borders waiting to enter to help in the aid. There were still 40,000 troops stationed in Namibia that had asked to be escorted out of the country. He had some 73 million people that had to be cared for as well as protected.
That was not the end of his worries. Upon learning of the failing Zeeland government, Dugan had sent one of his most trusted aids into the bordering country of Botswana which was also under Zeeland control. Realizing that now he had the money as well as the power he hoped to encourage the people of Botswana to join his rebellion and form of government. The cards were on the table it seemed; now Dugan and the rest of the world could only wait and see how the people would react.
Two Weeks Later
A lot had happen since the rise of the Republic two weeks earlier. There were no longer any foreign troops on Brinkman soil. Humanitarian aid had been widely distributed to great success. The violence had almost ceased to exist, thanks to the efforts of the former Zeeland Army and the volunteer police forces that took up arms in the country’s cities. With the return of vital necessities such as running water, electricity, and food the country had begun to rebuild from the destruction of the depression. Jobs had filled rapidly due to the increased number of rebuilding jobs and duties. Schools which were rebuilt or unaffected were soon back in service much to the dismay of local students. Even with the 50 + million donated by countries such as Cotland, there was not nearly enough money to fix the situation. The provisional government had sent out an urgent plea for all citizens to pitch in and help the reconstruction effort. The citizens, with their new found freedoms, were more than willing to meet the call. The country was begging to emerge from the smoke and rubble of destruction, slowly rebuilding itself into a beautiful free country.
What most citizens were dying to hear was the announcement on the very first election. Just a few days ago Harvard Dugan along with a number of high ranking rebellion leaders and city provisional governors had signed the Brinkman Republic’s Declaration of Independence. This document, which will forever go down in Brinkman history as well as the worlds, signified the start of official government as well as the country as a whole. The upcoming election would soon decide the articles of the “to be” Constitution. Everyone would have a say, everyone could vote, everyone is as equal as the next person and can rise as far as talent can take them. The anticipation of the entire nation was ecstatic. There would finally be a voice for the voiceless.
Part Two: A Knight in Ashes
Botswana lay just east of Namibia. Its rolling tableland and desolate desert combine to a total area just less of that of Namibia. Its many rivers and lakes provided the water needed for life to thrive in such a remote countryside. This small, rather isolated country is home to one of the world’s most dominating mining industries for minerals such as demands and silver. Millions flock to seek their fortune yet this Wild West style industry leaves many poor and homeless. When the Zeeland Government crumbled and the doors of anarchy were thrown open all chaos broke lose.
Most all government and corporate leaders in the area were publicly executed following the announcement of the destruction of the national government. The depression saw millions lose their lives, jobs, and families yet those leaders stayed above it all. They saw the death and poverty and said nor did anything to stop it. They turned the other way as women were raped and killed in broad daylight. Now it was their turn to pay for the horrific situation they put the population in. The vengeance was swift and unforgiving. The national bank was robbed and burned to the ground. Most cities saw riots and were burned to the ground. Anarchy was law, and chaos ruled the streets. With such utter confusion bordering nations saw the opportunity, their armies mobilized and poised to strike.
The eyes of the world were not the only ones now watching the situation in Botswana. With the end of anarchy in Namibia and the elections continuing with out interruption, Dugan saw the opportunity as a chance to spread his ideals and set upon building a world power. His power hungry ideals did not go unchecked however. The new form of government was setting in and already it was working with such precision. His actions would surely be noticed and he would be marked a tyrant, and dictator; this was the very thing he rebelled against. His country was vulnerable, weak, and small. If another nation wanted to grab Botswana for themselves why would they stop there? The world had not yet truly recognized the Brinkman Republic, to an invading country it would be the same as Botswana. He needed to expand, become stronger, than the world would consider them and for the time being his boarders would be quiet. Then the country would be able to lie low, to build based on this new principle to slowly and silently become a player in world affairs. Yet he was still bound by the government he himself had instated. With the elections only days away something needed to be done.
A few days from Elections
The answer was simple, in the form of a man. His name was Timothy Farrell, son of the chief of police of Namibia. He was average in height, very well built and highly educated. He was among the political back drop of the rebellion in Namibia not associated with the military. He conducted behind the scenes paperwork and outwardly supported the cause. He was ambassador to Cotland and Krey during the humanitarian relief after the capture of Namibia and won favor with the local population. He was an easily likable man, in his early 40’s. During his time with the rebellion he spent much of if working for Dugan and become a close friend and ally. It was only natural for him to run for president against Dugan during the elections. This Dugan hoped would work right into his hands.
The elections were only 2 days away. For the first time in Namibia history, now the Brinkman Republic, there was to be a debate amongst the 3 candidates which were running for president. The other candidate was Jamio Fitzgerald, a small feisty man from southern Brink. Although not open about it he was almost anti-rebellion and was running to bring the old ways of the Zeeeland government back to prosperity. Although it was doubtful that he would even come close to winning the effort was still made. Ironically this had an even better effect for the cause, allowing an opposing party to become elected showed great belief that the people were really free. Before the debate had even started Dugan appeared before the Namibia and the world for that matter. CNN broadcasted the entire thing late into the night. Harvard Dugan had removed himself from the race and put his fill support around Farrell. His cause he stated “Was to show the world that this government is not a dictatorship but a free democracy…I have secured our independence now it is time for the country to elect its on leader not based on gratitude or military heroism but upon political and civil rights.” The country was shocked, yet excited. Dugan as did the rest of the country new that the votes that were going to go for him would now go to Farrell who would secure the win. It was time now for him to begin his real work without the restrictions.
Botswana’s chaotic ordeal was subsiding and a provisional dictatorship was installed to regain peace in the major cities. Amazingly the foreign powers surrounding Botswana had backed off leaving the country in anarchy and ripe for the taking. For the most part the people of Botswana were watching Brink with impatience eyes. They too wished the freedoms now granted by the Brink Government. With a dictatorship as the government the masses were for the most part kept quiet. Political figures soon emerged from Botswana asking for help from Dugan and Brink. Dugan was eager to extend the rule of Brink over the people expanding the country and boosting the population by about half. With Botswana not only came a sizable country but thousands of precious materials such as diamonds. With Botswana under control the economy would surely sky rocket and the Brinkman Republic would start to become a world power before it was even a teenager. However there was still a problem that prevented him as well as other countries from invading Botswana. Along with the harsh unforgiving climate, Botswana rebels under the leadership of the dictator had begun to recruit and secure various cities and borders. It was a clear occupation, which would never work, if Dugan had anything to do with it. However before he could go in, and with the support of the country, he needed a ligament reason. He knew he could count of Farrell to support the expansion of the country to Botswana but he still needed a spark to get the people behind them. What he needed was the country to be thrown into complete anarchy again, what he needed was Ethan Raven.
Day of Elections
The firestorm had begun in earnest. Brink was knee deep in political turmoil surrounding the elections however things were going as planed for the most part. Huge amounts of money were spent on the election security and officials from all over the world brought in to witness and this historic event. The turnout at first was slow, almost a trickle yet as the day wore on the trickle became a flood and nearly 80 % of the population had reached the poles. A few minor security breaches were all that interrupted the masses from voting at local voting stations. When the people got back to their houses and turned on their television to see the outcome of the event they were subject to something else, something maybe even bigger than the elections. They saw the chaotic results of an assassinated leader in Botswana. The country was one again thrown into complete and utter chaos. With no government or police force looting was the norm, vigilance ruled the day. To the people of Brink it was as if these people cried out for help, they needed a government and it was clear the people of Brink had just the one for them.
The news broadcasted it all day, over and over. The provisional dictator of Botswana was found dead in his sleep, his head covered in a plastic bag. He was murdered by “a local rebellion group”. What the world missed was this “rebel group” was a Brink agent, the best agent they had. It was Ethan Raven. With the country now in mayhem Harvard ready his small force of former Zeeeland troops and a brigade of Brink troops. The combined force was just under 8,000 troops. Most of the Zeeeland soldiers had been giving honorable discharges if they wished to go, some however didn’t and a few came back to serve until the government could raise its own army. They stood on the border ready for the go ahead from the government. It could take anywhere from 1- 4 days. Time was not a luxury they could afford. Opening the country up to anarchy put it on the market not only for the republic of Brink but for the surrounding countries as well. If they wanted Botswana they’d have to act fast and decisive.
As it would turn out, it was all in vain…in a good way. The day after the elections it was made official, Farrell had been elected the first ever president of the Brinkman Republic. That same day with the consent of the people he ordered Harvard to invade Botswana and set up a interim government until order was restored. At the same time Farrell received a call from Nat Javar. Javar had assumed the temporary leader of the Botswana capitol and had gained influence over much of the country. Amazed at the quickness of such a takeover Farrell had no choice but to listen to what this man had to say. With Harvard’s army just a few miles out from the Botswana capitol the conversation was critical. Javar was sympathetic to the Brink cause. He had been the leader of the rebellion against Zeeeland during the same time Dugan was leading his. He believed in the same ideals but was unable to gain ground and support amongst his peers. Now after the death of the dictator and the loss of life during the chaos much of the nation was eager to restore peace and order. With the capture of Namibia by the Brink rebellion the people than listened to Javar’s cause and rallied behind him. It was only a matter of time before they killed the dictator first. His peopled watched as the elections went ahead undisturbed and they too ask for the same treatment. They were willing to lay down their arms and join the Brink government if they were allowed the same rights as the people in the former country of Namibia. A day into the first presidency and a war had been avoided and another country added to the Brinkman Republic.
Dugan’s troops entered city after city to cheering crowds. Thousands of people crowded the streets and blew kisses to the soldiers. They had met a hero’s welcome. Farrell still faced a slight problem. The elections had concluded and yet Botswana had no say. With much of Brink and all of Botswana still in need of humanitarian aid something had to be done for organization. What lay ahead would be years of reconstruction. The answer came from Javar. The two counties would combine into one. Than the country would be divided into 5 states, Farrell staying the overall president. This would give each state the ability to elect its own governor and various other officials. The government would be an exact replica of the United States of America with only minor differences. This would also allow the prioritizing of Humanitarian aid to the states that need it most. With the change in the land going smoothly and reconstruction underway there was nothing more to do than sit back and wait for the United States of Brink to evolve into a world power.
Aftermath
Farrell would remain in president until next elections.
Dugan retired from his military career in favor of a political one and was elected governor of New Namibia.
Javar would be elected governor of New Botswana.
Raven remains in the armed forces serving as a splinter cell for the government.
The former Zeeeland fleet would later be renamed “The September Fleet” after the month when it all began.