Industrial Experiment
22-11-2005, 07:34
OoC: Never thought I'd come back to MT, but quite frankly, I got restless in FT, just the same as I had in MT. So, I'm coming back. I know where I want to go (kind of) from here on out, though, so hopefully things will be better (and more productive).
Industrialite/Chaosian Border, Osprey-II near Alliance Mountain, 5:23 AM Local Time, December 11th
George Nemishly was an old man. A very old man. In fact, he was one of the few people alive in Industrial Experiment who could remember the old days. The days when Industrialites across the country could be proud to live in a nation that made a difference on a global scale, a nation with drive. When virtually the entire continent was allied, governed nearly as one, like the Empire of the ancients. Things had changed, of course. Population growth had drive Chaos Experiment to slowly cut off the supply of vacationing workers from Industrial Experiment, breaking the deal that had founded the Mutual Benefit Pact in the first place.
Students of history on both sides of the border slowly began to expect coming war, as had almost happened in the days of old, barely a century after the break-up of the empire. War came and passed, if one could call what happened a war. A revolution, more like it, just one that gripped two countries. The Chaosian government remained nominally intact, if somewhat streamlined, but the elite cadre of corporations that had controlled Industrial Experiment for years had been, to an extent, overthrown.
They were still operating, their boards of directors still held great power, and not many people had actually died, but there was a difference now. There was a government of the people keeping watch over them. They still practices business in much the same way they had since a time before time, but they now always lived under the threat of interference, should they overstep their bounds. Not that the situation was entirely bad for them, the government granted them very lucrative contracts for various amenities and the like, in exchange for the creation of a taxation system.
Looking back on it all, George could do little but let out a small sigh, half nostalgia and half exasperation. Here he was, probably the oldest man in the country, and he was still stuck in the past. I have a damned good reason, though, he thought as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, shivering in the cold mountain air, trying to see through both the blinding mountain snowstorm and the dark it occupied. He occasionally caught dark shapes that, if he were still younger and more spry of mind, would have formed into the looming mountains they were on either side of the Osprey.
Whilst wondering where exactly all the time had gone, a specific looming dark shape snuck up on him, until it occupied the entirety of the front viewport of the Osprey transport, eventually revealing itself to be a specific mountain, the entire reason he was here. A particularly distinguished looking hunk of rock, it bore a majestic crown of snow that swept down its sides right down to the ground, nearly out of sight at this altitude under normal conditions and all but unseeable in the dark blizzard now blowing outside.
Before he knew it, the O2 had set down where the landing pad should have been in a wide snow-field home to an interestingly organized grouping of shadowy shapes. The blades of the upgraded VTOL transport swept away much of the snow from the pad, which revealed itself to indeed be in the correct place, giving George something to step down onto after he had gathered his things and let the aircraft shut down its engines.
In unison with the quieting engines, the blizzard seemed to lighten a great amount, or perhaps it was the flood lights that emerged from somewhere near the edge of the glistening plateau. George looked at the now dimly lit buildings in the distance, instantly feeling again the tug of the deep past.
Once an employee of the biggest diplomatic corporation in Industrial Experiment and the broker of many a sensitive deal, George had spent a lot of his time wandering the halls of those buildings. They had housed the nerve-center of the psuedo-governmental organization that was responsible for the running of the Mutual Benefit Pact and the Industrial Experiment/Chaos Experiment Relations Counsel before it. George had experienced triumph, depression, a little bit of anger, and every other emotion on the spectrum within those buildings and had been quite sad to leave them when they were shut down during the revolution.
Now, he was returning as something he had never thought he would be: elected president of a free nation.
Going once more for the sigh of nostalgia, he instead sent himself into a brief coughing fit, having forgotten about the freezing temperatures one could expect at these altitudes. He waited a moment more for two Industrialite Air-Marines to follow him out of Osprey-II and then proceeded after them towards the compound to a chorus of "Follow me, Mr President". Most would think it odd that he would chose to operate his new adminstration from a place like this, but the history that George had here made the decision, coupled with the newly established tradition of Industrialite presidents finding their own adminstrative capitols, all too easy.
It was only a minute or so of walking to reach the central building in the compound, the main lodge building, though it did seem longer for a man as old as the new president. The two airmen took up positions at either side of the main doors, one then reaching over to open one, with the other ready to go in first, but George motioned for them to stop, "No need for such professionalism here fellows, at least not yet. There are only a few people arrived yet, and they're all people I trust explicitly. Stay and guard the door -- from the inside that is -- I will call for you when I have settled my offices".
The two soldiers looked at each other rather incredulously, so George contained, "Really, it's ok, I'll only be a few minutes".
One of them shrugged to the other and they both followed George into the building, finding the entrance hall to be rather well lit and obviously well-preserved from its days of great usage. They stationed themselves on opposite sides of the doors and stood at attention. Although the entire area looked moderately baroque to them, they just assumed that such had been in fashion way back when.
George, meanwhile, continued up to the desk that occupied the central part of the room, reminiscent of the inns he used to visit in Chaos Experiment as a young man. Sitting at the main terminal was a young woman, a girl George had met after the revolution and be-friended, seeing some of himself in her, and recruited into his staff as a statesmen in the new Industrial country. She smiled at him as he approached.
"Hey Geo--um, Mr. President. You've been given your old offices, as you requested, though I'm afraid the main stairs are out of service -- some termites somehow made their way all the way up here", she laughed, "Up the elevator in the back left corner, down the hall, in the third door on your right, and in the only other door, if you remember"
"Thank you Sheri, I very much appreciate you being here for me", he said with a matching smile and a quick laugh at her joke.
Impossibly, she smiled even wider, "Don't think a moment of it George, you've been like a father to me".
Saying his goodbyes to the pretty blonde haired girl, he made his way around the desk and to the indicated elevator in the rear. Getting inside the opulent car, he pressed the familiar button to take him to the third floor, waited as it swiftly and smoothly ascended, and got out as the chime went off and the doors opened.
The moment he stepped out, however, another wave of nostalgia hit him.
These hallways haven't changed at all he thought in temporary awe. The same rich red patterned rugs, with the same ornately esconed lights, and the same well-designed wall patterns. The same smell in the air, almost, though it did have the distinct taste of age to it.
Shaking it off, George proceeded down the hallway, instinctively finding the door to his office even approaching from the opposite direction of the main stairs (his usual means of ascension). He fumbled a moment with the doorknob, but managed to push it open and he walked in. The room had a similar decour as the hallways, but with some of George's own personal touches, and against one wall was a desk with a much older woman behind it.
"Ah! George! You're here, finally", she said in a happy but age-weary voice.
"Yes Betty, I'm here, it's good to see you could make it".
"And miss coming back to this place? I spent a large part of my early career being a secretary for you George, I wouldn't miss coming back to those days for my life -- or what's left of it at least", she joked.
George laughed as he looked around the anteroom, taking in the still familiar surroundings, then proceeded to the inner door that led into his office, the place he would spend the next several years running a nation from.
"Is it open Betty?", he asked.
"Yes sir, key's in the lock, too", she answered proudly.
A quick turn of the knob, a few steps inside, and George found himself at a desk he never thought he'd see again. There were even a few papers and other odds and ends he had left in the mad dash to get out -- the revolution didn't always look as peaceful and non-violent as it does in hindsight.
In particular, he noticed his old picture window on the back wall, a very hi-tech (for the time) HD display that was directly linked to a window on the outside of the building. His eyes, however, slowly slipped from the scene of blowing snow and dim light to a globular piece of glass sitting on a stand on the corner of his old desk. Reaching down, he lifted it, looking inside at the cheery looking snowman in his big black top hat with his long carrot nose.
George shook the snowglobe lightly, watching it and looking through it at the backdrop of blizzard behind it.
Coming from the open door behind him, still just barely lighting the otherwise dark room, he heard Betty's voice, "It has been too long George".
Never taking his gaze from the snowglobe, George replied, "Indeed it has Betty, indeed it has".
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Official Notice from the Republican Government of Industrial Experiment
Seventh Republican President, George Nemishly, December 22nd
I bid greetings to the gathered nations of the world and I bring news. Some may remember and some may not remember, but years ago, a nation known as Industrial Experiment made a brief stint on the global stage as an active power. Always an economic powerhouse, it established trade relations around the world and become embroiled in the global economy.
Since the sudden withdraw of Industrial Experiment from both world politics and the world market, there have been several significant changes. There is now a republic in place of the corporate aristocracy that once controlled the nation, though we remain devoted to economic growth and strength. We have all but broken ties with our former allies of the Mutual Benefit Pact, now isolated from the other splinter nations of an ancient kingdom.
Other things, however, have not changed, and those would mainly be our interest in participated with other nations around the globe in the furtherence of prosperity and, now, freedom.
I would personally like to invite any world leaders who, whether for memory of the Industrialite nation or for hope of future relationship, would be interested in attending to a combination conference/week-long ball. We hope to use this opportunity to build strong new alliances and trade relations and, very hopefully, great friendships.
End Notice
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Industrialite/Chaosian Border, Osprey-II near Alliance Mountain, 5:23 AM Local Time, December 11th
George Nemishly was an old man. A very old man. In fact, he was one of the few people alive in Industrial Experiment who could remember the old days. The days when Industrialites across the country could be proud to live in a nation that made a difference on a global scale, a nation with drive. When virtually the entire continent was allied, governed nearly as one, like the Empire of the ancients. Things had changed, of course. Population growth had drive Chaos Experiment to slowly cut off the supply of vacationing workers from Industrial Experiment, breaking the deal that had founded the Mutual Benefit Pact in the first place.
Students of history on both sides of the border slowly began to expect coming war, as had almost happened in the days of old, barely a century after the break-up of the empire. War came and passed, if one could call what happened a war. A revolution, more like it, just one that gripped two countries. The Chaosian government remained nominally intact, if somewhat streamlined, but the elite cadre of corporations that had controlled Industrial Experiment for years had been, to an extent, overthrown.
They were still operating, their boards of directors still held great power, and not many people had actually died, but there was a difference now. There was a government of the people keeping watch over them. They still practices business in much the same way they had since a time before time, but they now always lived under the threat of interference, should they overstep their bounds. Not that the situation was entirely bad for them, the government granted them very lucrative contracts for various amenities and the like, in exchange for the creation of a taxation system.
Looking back on it all, George could do little but let out a small sigh, half nostalgia and half exasperation. Here he was, probably the oldest man in the country, and he was still stuck in the past. I have a damned good reason, though, he thought as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, shivering in the cold mountain air, trying to see through both the blinding mountain snowstorm and the dark it occupied. He occasionally caught dark shapes that, if he were still younger and more spry of mind, would have formed into the looming mountains they were on either side of the Osprey.
Whilst wondering where exactly all the time had gone, a specific looming dark shape snuck up on him, until it occupied the entirety of the front viewport of the Osprey transport, eventually revealing itself to be a specific mountain, the entire reason he was here. A particularly distinguished looking hunk of rock, it bore a majestic crown of snow that swept down its sides right down to the ground, nearly out of sight at this altitude under normal conditions and all but unseeable in the dark blizzard now blowing outside.
Before he knew it, the O2 had set down where the landing pad should have been in a wide snow-field home to an interestingly organized grouping of shadowy shapes. The blades of the upgraded VTOL transport swept away much of the snow from the pad, which revealed itself to indeed be in the correct place, giving George something to step down onto after he had gathered his things and let the aircraft shut down its engines.
In unison with the quieting engines, the blizzard seemed to lighten a great amount, or perhaps it was the flood lights that emerged from somewhere near the edge of the glistening plateau. George looked at the now dimly lit buildings in the distance, instantly feeling again the tug of the deep past.
Once an employee of the biggest diplomatic corporation in Industrial Experiment and the broker of many a sensitive deal, George had spent a lot of his time wandering the halls of those buildings. They had housed the nerve-center of the psuedo-governmental organization that was responsible for the running of the Mutual Benefit Pact and the Industrial Experiment/Chaos Experiment Relations Counsel before it. George had experienced triumph, depression, a little bit of anger, and every other emotion on the spectrum within those buildings and had been quite sad to leave them when they were shut down during the revolution.
Now, he was returning as something he had never thought he would be: elected president of a free nation.
Going once more for the sigh of nostalgia, he instead sent himself into a brief coughing fit, having forgotten about the freezing temperatures one could expect at these altitudes. He waited a moment more for two Industrialite Air-Marines to follow him out of Osprey-II and then proceeded after them towards the compound to a chorus of "Follow me, Mr President". Most would think it odd that he would chose to operate his new adminstration from a place like this, but the history that George had here made the decision, coupled with the newly established tradition of Industrialite presidents finding their own adminstrative capitols, all too easy.
It was only a minute or so of walking to reach the central building in the compound, the main lodge building, though it did seem longer for a man as old as the new president. The two airmen took up positions at either side of the main doors, one then reaching over to open one, with the other ready to go in first, but George motioned for them to stop, "No need for such professionalism here fellows, at least not yet. There are only a few people arrived yet, and they're all people I trust explicitly. Stay and guard the door -- from the inside that is -- I will call for you when I have settled my offices".
The two soldiers looked at each other rather incredulously, so George contained, "Really, it's ok, I'll only be a few minutes".
One of them shrugged to the other and they both followed George into the building, finding the entrance hall to be rather well lit and obviously well-preserved from its days of great usage. They stationed themselves on opposite sides of the doors and stood at attention. Although the entire area looked moderately baroque to them, they just assumed that such had been in fashion way back when.
George, meanwhile, continued up to the desk that occupied the central part of the room, reminiscent of the inns he used to visit in Chaos Experiment as a young man. Sitting at the main terminal was a young woman, a girl George had met after the revolution and be-friended, seeing some of himself in her, and recruited into his staff as a statesmen in the new Industrial country. She smiled at him as he approached.
"Hey Geo--um, Mr. President. You've been given your old offices, as you requested, though I'm afraid the main stairs are out of service -- some termites somehow made their way all the way up here", she laughed, "Up the elevator in the back left corner, down the hall, in the third door on your right, and in the only other door, if you remember"
"Thank you Sheri, I very much appreciate you being here for me", he said with a matching smile and a quick laugh at her joke.
Impossibly, she smiled even wider, "Don't think a moment of it George, you've been like a father to me".
Saying his goodbyes to the pretty blonde haired girl, he made his way around the desk and to the indicated elevator in the rear. Getting inside the opulent car, he pressed the familiar button to take him to the third floor, waited as it swiftly and smoothly ascended, and got out as the chime went off and the doors opened.
The moment he stepped out, however, another wave of nostalgia hit him.
These hallways haven't changed at all he thought in temporary awe. The same rich red patterned rugs, with the same ornately esconed lights, and the same well-designed wall patterns. The same smell in the air, almost, though it did have the distinct taste of age to it.
Shaking it off, George proceeded down the hallway, instinctively finding the door to his office even approaching from the opposite direction of the main stairs (his usual means of ascension). He fumbled a moment with the doorknob, but managed to push it open and he walked in. The room had a similar decour as the hallways, but with some of George's own personal touches, and against one wall was a desk with a much older woman behind it.
"Ah! George! You're here, finally", she said in a happy but age-weary voice.
"Yes Betty, I'm here, it's good to see you could make it".
"And miss coming back to this place? I spent a large part of my early career being a secretary for you George, I wouldn't miss coming back to those days for my life -- or what's left of it at least", she joked.
George laughed as he looked around the anteroom, taking in the still familiar surroundings, then proceeded to the inner door that led into his office, the place he would spend the next several years running a nation from.
"Is it open Betty?", he asked.
"Yes sir, key's in the lock, too", she answered proudly.
A quick turn of the knob, a few steps inside, and George found himself at a desk he never thought he'd see again. There were even a few papers and other odds and ends he had left in the mad dash to get out -- the revolution didn't always look as peaceful and non-violent as it does in hindsight.
In particular, he noticed his old picture window on the back wall, a very hi-tech (for the time) HD display that was directly linked to a window on the outside of the building. His eyes, however, slowly slipped from the scene of blowing snow and dim light to a globular piece of glass sitting on a stand on the corner of his old desk. Reaching down, he lifted it, looking inside at the cheery looking snowman in his big black top hat with his long carrot nose.
George shook the snowglobe lightly, watching it and looking through it at the backdrop of blizzard behind it.
Coming from the open door behind him, still just barely lighting the otherwise dark room, he heard Betty's voice, "It has been too long George".
Never taking his gaze from the snowglobe, George replied, "Indeed it has Betty, indeed it has".
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Official Notice from the Republican Government of Industrial Experiment
Seventh Republican President, George Nemishly, December 22nd
I bid greetings to the gathered nations of the world and I bring news. Some may remember and some may not remember, but years ago, a nation known as Industrial Experiment made a brief stint on the global stage as an active power. Always an economic powerhouse, it established trade relations around the world and become embroiled in the global economy.
Since the sudden withdraw of Industrial Experiment from both world politics and the world market, there have been several significant changes. There is now a republic in place of the corporate aristocracy that once controlled the nation, though we remain devoted to economic growth and strength. We have all but broken ties with our former allies of the Mutual Benefit Pact, now isolated from the other splinter nations of an ancient kingdom.
Other things, however, have not changed, and those would mainly be our interest in participated with other nations around the globe in the furtherence of prosperity and, now, freedom.
I would personally like to invite any world leaders who, whether for memory of the Industrialite nation or for hope of future relationship, would be interested in attending to a combination conference/week-long ball. We hope to use this opportunity to build strong new alliances and trade relations and, very hopefully, great friendships.
End Notice
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