NationStates Jolt Archive

All through the White House there was a hush, Prime Minister Jesse Obed had been long ago diagnosed with a inoperable brain tumour, and had been holding on, bed-ridden for longer than anyone had thought possible.

The talks with political and religious leaders in Mexico had been ongoing, sometimes breaking down into heated yelling matches, often going into the wee hours of the morning. This had been going on for months, and the discussions were going to be taken over by the Deputy Prime Minister Deacon Vanessa Moerike, and they were moved to the regular conference rooms, and details were being worked out for a decision that had been made already. A decision that many political commentators were speculating on, but no one could be sure on yet.

Jesse Obed was now unable to work, QNN had announced that the great Quinntonian leader had also suffered a stroke and was rendered paralysed on his right size and had lost his sight. He has requested that he be allowed by United Elias to go to the Quinntonian embassy in Jerusalem and die there. He will give up all powers of government, and resign his position, turning leadership of the party over to Deacon Moerike. He has requested that the party not call an election until Deacon Moerike is done the talks with the Mexican officials and he has finally gone home to be with the Lord. He will be moved, with medical staff, to the embassy and they will be prepared to receive international visitors of all kinds until he is no longer able. So, in the time being, Deacon Vanessa Moerike, Deputy Prime Minister will be heading the government until the death of Jesse Obed, at which point she will be calling an election.

This is exciting news, as Jesse Obed was largely seen as unbeatable and has lead his newly formed grassroots party, the Christian Heritage Party, of which he was a founding member, to almost three decades of landslide victories. He was the youngest Prime Minister of Quinntonia ever, at the age of 54 when he took office for the first time in 1974 and has reigned as Prime Minister until now, when at the age of 85 he resigned from office and left to die in the Holy Land. His CHP was also the first party that was not backed by any of the large denominational groups, be they Lutheran, Catholic, or now Evangelical. This was a breath of fresh air into what was perceived to be stagnant Quinntonian politics and he has lead Quinntonia though first contact with the Dra-poel, the building and defending of Quinntonian Dra-pol, the rise of the Progressive Bloc and the Holy League, and the formation of NATO. The economy has never been better, with Quinntonian international reputation at an all time high, with a softening of the view of Quinntonia following the French/Tordish incident, and the alliance of Quinntonia with Japan, a large, powerful friend in the South East Asian theatre that Quinntonia holds as so interesting.

Jesus-1 is being brought back from China, where it was on mission with the famous Bishop Schultz, and will be flying him to Israel ASAP.


OOC-More to come.


WWJD
Amen

His Imperial Majesty Emperor Royce I is extremely concerned about PM Obed, and has asked the Quinntonian Embassy in Port Royal if it might be possible to arrange a bedside visit.

Even with a French Royal Visit looming, His Majesty feels that the least he can do for such a staunch ally is to fly to Washington and visit the ailing PM with words of comfort at his bedside.

(For now just a tag since, you may imagine, most Beddgelens have no strong opinion on the matter.)

There is an outpouring of sympathy for Obed in Japan, where he has long been viewed as a good friend to the nation. The Japanese media run a small series of documentaries on Obed's time in office, and the newspapers all express their regret at the impending death of such a great statesman.

In a private meeting with the four party leaders, Emperor Shinseiki states that the Imperial Household will be holding a memorial service for Obed when the inevitable occurs; all four leaders are 'strongly encouraged' to suspend election campaigning on that day and join the service, regardless of their views on the man.

The Imperial Household also contacts the Quinntonian embassy in Tokyo to try and arrange a visit to Washington by Shinseiki, as the Emperor wishes to pay his last respects.

Washington visits will no longer be possible, as Jesse Obed is boarded on Jesus-1 and flying for Jerusalem, where he will rest in the Quinntonian Cathedral/Embassy. However, if the Emporer of Japan or Royce I or the King of France wished, they would be allowed bedisde visits as soon as they wished.

Political commentators were already camped out in front of the embassy in Jerusalem waiting for the inevitable death announcement and seeing who would come to pay respects to the leader that had so captured the hearts of teh Quinntonian people for so long. The Quinntonians would remember who came for a long time.

WWJD
Amen.

His Imperial Majesty Emperor Royce I has grabbed his Overnight Bag and, after clearing everything with Cairo, is winging his way to Jerusalem in his Sunderland Flying Boat to be by PM Obed's bedside.

we hope that PM Obed will survive and will be most mournful in case of death

Somewhere in the cloudy realm of Purgatory a black trenchcoated man stood silently, a smile upon his shadow streaked face. He raised a wine glass as if in toast, and sipped it as he let loose a few words.

"Soon it will be time...for you to come home."

Somewhere in the cloudy realm of Purgatory a black trenchcoated man stood silently, a smile upon his shadow streaked face. He raised a wine glass as if in toast, and sipped it as he let loose a few words.

"Soon it will be time...for you to come home."
Thanx, that was nice. I very much was wondering about how AC would pay his respects, very fitting.

WWJD
Amen.

In response to the news of Obed's deteriorating state, the Strainist Party issues a statement. Obed is praised as a great humanitarian and respected statement, and hope is expressed that he might still recover, along with confidence that his soul* shall join with Heaven when he passes on.

Within the Party, much debate arises over how to properly respond. On the one hand, the views of Obed's Quinntonia and the Lyongians on several issues, particularly the Korean peninsula, are irreconcilable. On the other, the rise of feudal powers in recent decades has helped to break down paranoia felt towards the USQ since the Cold War... a process greatly aided by Quinntonian response against Tsarist-Russian vessels who had threatened Lyong not long ago.

In the end, it is that particular event that decides the Strainist reaction. Citizen Patricia Tord, abdicated queen of Tord, submits a letter to Obed via Quinntonian officials, requesting permission to visit and offer thanks to Obed and the Quinntonian people for their selfless actions in defense of Lyong.

[A note on translation: In the Lyongese version of the statement, the wording specifies Obed's 'po' soul, in keeping with local animist belief].

Citizen Tord will be allowed to come and pay respects as well.

OOC-I think what I ill do, is wait for more people to get to know about this thread, and then post an intro post, outlinging the room that Jesse Obed is in and so on, and let each nation post their moment, with perhaps a short repsonse from me.
I just want everyone to know that things in Quinntonia could be very different from now on, and this thread is going to outline a completely new Quinntonian government.

IC-In related news, the South Pacofic Fleet is being pulled back further from Dra-pol than ever before the Three Years War and is being formed up to respond to brushfire actions that may come up, with a lot of the men requesting leave to be with their families right now.

WWJD
Amen.

Emperor Jonathan Zhang offers his deepest sympathies and condolences to all of Quintonnia. He too wishes to meet Obed in person to thank him for his childhood years in the United States.

The Strathdonian people express their dismay as Obeds deteriorating condition with many a pulpit playing host to sermons praising him.

While it is unlikely that an audience would be granted to such a relatively unimportant leader President Livingston is making preperations to travel to Jeruslaem to pay his respects to a great freind of Strathdonia and take part in the vigil.

Emperor Jonathan Zhang and President Livingston will be allowed an audience before the end.
WWJD
Amen.

News of Jesse Obed's impending death comes as quite bad news to most Hindustanis. Quinntonia had never been much of a friend to Hindustan (giving the Sopworth Principality oodles of support, first and foremost) until Jesse Obed became prime minister, and Hindustan's continued economic survival depends in no small part on trade relations he established.

"Jesse Obed," notes one Hindustani MP, "displayed a genuine concern for the plight of the oppressed all too rare in heads-of-state. He is a friend of the downtrodden and a friend of this nation."

A delegation of MPs, headed by equally elderly Marshal Stanislaw Syzko, boards an international flight for Quinntonia to pay their respects to Quinntonia's greatest leader on his deathbed.

Upon hearing of this plight, the royal family of the Estenlands will be making their way to Jerusalem to pay their respects, Tsar Wingert, daughter and Commander in Chief of the military Princess Adrienna, grandson and hier to the Tsarist throne and King of Moldava, 3 year old Peter, and his twin sister, and Queen of Tsarist Lavrageria, Catherine.
Tsar Wingert also orders that every church in the Tsarist Empire will ring their bells once every day for each year of Jesse Obed's death, and his personal Father Confessor, Father Bahamut has asked the patriarchs to begin holding masses in every monastary aroud the clock for the man.
Wingert has not often agreed with this man, but his effect upon world affairs cannot be ignored, and Wingert does beleive in showing worthy men the respect which they are due.

With the Tsar, thousands of nobles, Boyars and so on down the line, begin arriving in Jerusalem, many of them newly knighted and from Russia, wealthy businessmen whose afflouence has found favour with their new Tsar. They each are instructed to bring a gift for Jesse oBed and the Quinntonian people, and it soon becomes a status symbol to be able to bring a more lavish and thoughtful gift.

Tsar Wingert the Great.

If they didn't know so much better, Director Hotan's Lyongian hosts might almost have been forgiven for thinking that they heard the thrice-wounded survivor of a Quinntonian assassination attempt humming another one bites the dust as his offices received word of long-time rival Obed's downwards turn.

In fact the Drapoel government in exile extends sorrowfully worded communications of its great pain in respect of the Prime Minister's ill-health.

Still, all feel that it's about time the Quinntonians shared a little in the hardships of the Kurosite world...

The regular people of Russia have also shown an outpouring of sympathy for the Quinntonian Prime Minister. He was after all the man who extended a welcoming hand to the still reeling state when it was torn apart by civil war, and whose troops helped prevent Russian nuclear stockpiles from falling in the wrong hands. The few prayer warriors that still remain deployed in Russia are barraged with requests to lead joint prayers with Russian Orthodox and Catholic churches, and the bells of the nation's churches toll with double mourning, as the sorrow of Putin's passing is now compounded by that of Obed. Crying babushkas line the street, and children leay wreaths at the Quinntonian embassy. A statue was erected in the Red Square, with the wheelchair bound Obed sitting quietly near St. Peter's Basilica, his eyes full of
quiet strength, brilliance, and a devotion both to the people of the world and his Lord and Savior.

Meanwhile, inquiries are prepared to be sent to Quinntonian government as to whether a joint Putin-Obed funeral can be held, since both are likely to attract national leaders of all stripes and it would make a mockery of both men to have national leaders decided which one to pay homage to. (Of course these are not sent as of yet, since it would be despicable to speak of a funeral before the man is even gone, even though it seems to be inevitable)

"There are few men in this world who put Faith above all, above even the nature of politics. Monsieur Obed was such a man, who lived his life with the light of Jesus in his heart. It is a gift for him to now reap in Heaven the rewards he earned upon the earth, but a sad day for those of us left behind."

His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste issued the statement as Monarch One was detoured from a Roycelandian summit. The Most Christian King and Serene Queen would fly to Jerusalem, hoping to pray with the righteous Quinntonnian President before the Lord invited him to an eternal reprieve.

OOc-AC, I think you are thinking of St. Basil's, St. Peters is in Rome. St. Basil's is the multi-coloured one that was built by Ivan the Terrible, ancestor of Wingert.
IC-A formal invitation is sent to Hotan, along witha promise of safe conduct to come and see face to face the man who had so occupied his thoughts over the last many years.

WWJD
Amen.

OOC: Ooops, sorry. I mix those two up constantly for some reason. And Dra-Pol, you must agree to this. The confrontation between the two...Ah! Let me get my popcorn!

And if you wouldn't mind, Quinn and Hudecia, could we have a small bit with Putin and MacNally welcoming Obed into the afterlife? (And maybe we can get in a little shot of Liu frying in Hell...;) )

OOC: Ooops, sorry. I mix those two up constantly for some reason. And Dra-Pol, you must agree to this. The confrontation between the two...Ah! Let me get my popcorn!

And if you wouldn't mind, Quinn and Hudecia, could we have a small bit with Putin and MacNally welcoming Obed into the afterlife? (And maybe we can get in a little shot of Liu frying in Hell...;) )

Merry Christmas to all!
But you, burn!
WWJD
Amen.

To the surprise of probably six and a half billion people, give or take, comrade Director Secretary Hotan accepts the invitation to visit a failing nemesis, and even makes the fact public knowledge.

It is the Director's intention to fly via Russian airspace from Lyong, which may make the trip historic for a number of other reasons if it goes ahead. Though sitting in exile, Hotan would be the first Drapoel Director to travel through Russia, let alone Holy League associated territory, and he would do it in an Igovian-Soviet aircraft received during better times. He'd also be the first to go so far west in an official capacity, provided that Kurosian I's secret trips to Europe before the Quinntonian landings aren't counted by anyone besides Madame Kurosian, whom he met there.

(Q, you should know that Jerusalem is not within United Elias, but as far as we are concerned the capital of the state of Israel.)

The Foreign Affairs Ministry is quick to respond to news from Washington, announcing that they will be using UE's considerable influence over the Israeli government to ensure that PM Obed's last requests can indeed be accomodated. Vice-President Ezzra Zilkha and Foreign Minister Zaki Mohammed will also be leading a delegation to Washington which will include senior religous figures and diplomats to pay their respects in person. Unofficially, the UE government also hopes that some private meetings can be held with Obed's possible sucessors to ensure that in future the close UE-US relations will indeed be maintained.

Oh, sorry. Well, if you wanted to make your final respects known, Jesse Obed is already in Jerusalem, though if you want to have any discussions with Vanessa Moerike, she will be happy to accept foriegn dignitaries, as she is the Prime Minister of Quinntonia right now, and will only be aclling an election once the now resigned Jesse Obed is gone home.

WWJD
Amen.

Washington, D.C. (Domini Christi)

The great boardroom at the White House was full to the brim of officials representing the governments of two nations, with newly appointed Prime Minister Vanessa Moerike sitting at the middle chair, and President Vicente FOX Quesada taking up the opposing chair. Eyes were red and worn, and coffee wasn’t working anymore, as the two groups and their interpreters had been busy producing a series of documents that would be landmark in the histories of their two nations. Finally, a rather dishevelled Prime Minister Moerike called the session, which had been ongoing for almost 60 hours, to a close, saying that they should all take 24 hours and get some much needed rest and look after pressing matters of state before coming back to this situation.


Jerusalem

QNN-This is Lloyd Chavez coming live from outside the Quinntonian embassy just outside the Old City here in Jerusalem. This is where the faith was born; with the Passion of Jesus Christ happening right hear. It is believed that he was crucifies only kilometres from here and was laid to rest where now stands the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It is here that the great statesman and leader, now resigned Prime Minister has chosen to come to die from an inoperable brain tumour that has been afflicting him for over eight months, while he has been working feverishly to leave us with something that he will only now describe as “his legacy.” He has taken Quinntonia through the most painful times in our history and has survived Dra-poel assassination attempts in order to bring us to this point, and it is extremely exciting that from all over the world, foreign dignitaries have been invited to come and pay their respects, with acceptances from most nations, with the glaring exception, of course being Beth Gellert. Even the infamous Director Hotan of Dra-pol has agreed to come and make history meeting the man that he has faced down all of these years.

Flowers and gifts from all over the world have been coming here, with so may arriving each day that the Israeli government has been forced to place triple the amount of staff at their postal stations, and they have been clearing the area in front of the embassy of all people and piling flowers and gifts into piles based upon when they arrived, allowing things to be displayed for only three days before removing them and sending them via military transport to Washington, where they are being divided up and sent to the capitol cities of each State to be displayed for the people to see. I have been informed that hundreds of tonnes of mail and packages are coming into the city each day, though most is being sorted at the border stations before it ever gets to the Holy City.

Security is very tight with the Israeli army on high alert and every anti-terrorism squad in the nation in and around the city. Every package and person entering and leaving the city and the nation is being throughougly checked, with no exceptions made for dignitaries, and Diplomatic Immunity is not being observed for the duration of this vigil.

It is estimated that over 300,000 people have descended on the city to pay their respects, with every airline flying to Israel and the surrounding nations reporting that they are completely sold out. I have personally talked to people from Quinntonian Dra-pol who could only get a flight as far as Cairo and then could not rent a car, so bought an old jeep and drove here, but they were not allowed to bring the jeep across the border, so they bicycled into the town, with no money left and no place to stay, they say that they will stay until the end, no matter what. They claim that they were among the first of the refugees to cross into Hamhung to escape the brutal Dra-poel regime, and they would rather starve to death than dishonour Jesse Obed’s memory by leaving on the long journey home. That is the kind of emotion that is being felt here this week, we are now six days into the vigil and we will also stay to the end, Thank you.


Inside the Embassy/Cathedral

Jesse Obed looked even older than his actual advanced years, his whispy white hair falling into his face, and having lost a lot of weight, now looking fragile enough to be broken by a single blow, this great man of Quinntonia. His doctors had carefully moved his hospital bed into the main sanctuary of the Cathedral, after removing the pews, as this was the only room large enough to accommodate the flow of dignitaries that were coming from all over the world and Quinntonia to speak with him one last time. He was surrounded with medical equipment and screens, with the rhythmic sound of the bleep that indicated that he was still on this mortal coil. He had tubes running into his body all over the place and was surrounded by doctors and nurses that tried to prolong his life as long as possible and make what was left as comfortable as possible. His eyes had lost nothing of their vigour, and his intelligence was obviously still very much there, he spent every spare moment he had with his old, tattered Bible reading and re-reading passages that had given him strength and comfort throughout the years, and spending the rest of his time in prayer. He was too weak to even sit in his wheelchair now, and he knew that he had only days left, so he asked to speak with he leaders of the world one last time, to see if he could do any more good with what little strength he had left. He was now ready; he would receive his visitors. What would they say? What would God give him to say?

WWJD
Amen.

Jerusalem

Emperor Shinseiki entered the sanctuary, wearing a sombre black suit with no accessories of his postion; although he had been invited as the Emperor of Japan, he had no desire to display himself as such. Tian had come with him on the journey to Jerusalem, but was respectfully waiting outside as he really had nothing he wanted to say; Shinseiki would say enough for the two of them.

The young Emperor cautiously approached Obed's bedside and offered a weak smile.

"Jesse, it's Chiisu. I know we haven't really known each other as friends for that long, but you've always made an impression. I remember when we met in Quinntonian Dra-pol that first time; I was Premier of Marimaia, lording it over everyone I could. I offered you a painting which depicted us as friends, albeit with you as the supposed junior partner. You accepted it with dignity and offered me a gift in return; I had hoped to get an outburst from you to prove that you were a Western hick, but you more than proved me wrong.

When I became Emperor of Japan, you never once questioned my past, you accepted me and offered me your friendship with no strings attached. You've always been one of this world's inspirations, never judging by past mistakes and always soldiering on regardless of what life dealt you. This world needs more men like you, but sadly you're one of a kind; you will be missed by many millions, including the Japanese people. You've always been like an elder brother to us as we've re-established ourselves, always there to help and to offer advice.

My friend, I hope that you find the peaceful existence that you so richly deserve. No more policy worries, no more foreign disputes. Although you won't be with us physically any more, know that you'll always be with us in our hearts; as you gaze down at us from your well-earned rest, I hope we can make you smile. Perhaps we will see each other again in time; in case we do not, I want you to know one simple thing.

You have been incredible. Thank you for everything you have done for me, and for Japan; I hope we don't disappoint you."

Shinseiki leant forward and gently kissed Obed's forehead as tears began to well up in his eyes.

Jesse smiles up at Chiisu as his speach comes to an end.

“I remember this meeting,” he said with a slight crack brought of weakness and old age, “everyone at that council were convinced that Quinntonia intended to make Quinntonian Dra-pol staging point for a Crusade against the entire region of South East Asia. I do hope that we have proved that wrong over the past several decades.”

“I know that you were looking for a reaction, and I gave you a Bible, I think, plated with gold and written in embossed platinum, a beautiful way to read about God’s love for you and your people. I thought that you might be a problem one day. You were so in love with power, now you stand here so many years later, having been successful in three nations now, isn’t that right? God has truly blessed you with great talent. Why do you gather all of this power to yourself? It is said that a truly great person has no need or want to gather power to himself. I have noticed that the truly great that do not do so, usually are trampled by the despicable ones that do. That is why I entered political life, and God has blessed that. Even though I never wanted public office, even though I wanted to be a writer, I entered this life and gave the rest of my life to my nation, following at all times, my God. I am a miserable sinner, and I have done things that I am not proud of, things I must ask for forgiveness for, things that the Great Almighty has already forgiven me, and still I blundered on, knowing that none of the things that I accomplished were because of me, for “we are but poison to the plans of God.” I did all of this because I had a purpose in life. I was a soldier for God, I was not a Christian, though that is part of it all, if you were to ask me what I did, I would say, ‘I fight for the King.” Who do you fight for? What do you fight for? What do you want people to say about you when you lie here in your turn? Your past matters not, it matters not the methods that God used to allow you to this time and place and position, now what will you do with the rest of your life, continue to gather power to yourself without purpose? Or something great?

At this point Jesse Obed fell into a coughing fit and nurses rushed to his side, as Chiisu is rushed out.


WWJD
Amen.

As Chiisu was rushed out, Tian stopped leaning against a nearby wall and gently slipped his arm around Chiisu's shoulder. They had been through a great deal together in their relationship, but Tian was still unused to seeing Chiisu in tears. After a moment of consolation, Tian wiped his partner's tears away.

"You okay?"

Chiisu offered a sad smile. "In time, yes. I have a few things to consider, that's all."

His Imperial Majesty Emperor Royce I entered PM Obed's hospital room alone, and wearing a somewhat muted and tasteful Loud Shirt.

"How are you, Jesse, my friend?" he asked of the ailing PM.

"I wanted to come and pay my respects to you, and to thank you for everything you've done for the Empire. Roycelandia will be a lot poorer when you go, as indeed we were not enriched before you came. You have been a great friend to the Empire, "

His Majesty pulled up a chair next to PM Obed's bed. "As you know, I'm not a particularly spiritual man, but I have always respected your tolerance of that, and the fact that we have been friends in spite of that. But a curious thing happened to me on the way here, a story which I think you might find interesting..."

He paused for a second, and continued. "Whilst I was stopped over at Port Imperial having the Sunderland refueled, I was told that there was a Xhosa Tribesman who wished to see me. He had apparently walked many days from the interior to see me, and had something important that I would know what to do with. So I told my aide to show him in, and sure enough, there was a Xhosa Tribesman- a Chieftan, actually, in his late 60s. He was naked except for a loincloth, a pair of sandals made from discarded tyres, and he had a Spear, and a small pouch. My guards wanted to take his Spear, but I told them not to as it is considered insulting to disarm a Xhosa Chieftan when he is visiting another Cheiftan- even if that visitee is the Emperor."
They both chuckled.

"Anyway, he told me that his people had been fossicking near the river near their tribe when one of them had found a medium sized red diamond. This was an important event, and the tribe's Witchdoctor consulted the stars and his augers, and announced that a Great Man was about to go on a long journey, and it would be the last journey he would take. Before this Great Man went, he would be visited by other Great Men from all over the world, and he would impart to them words of Great Wisdom. The red diamond, declared the Witchdoctor, was a Travelling Stone, and would give the recipient strength, courage, safety, happiness, and luck on their Journey, but only if it was received from another Great Man.
Accordingly, the Xhosa Chieftan, as the Great Man Of The Tribe, walked for a week to Port Imperial, to hand the stone to me, the Great Man Of The Empire, to pass it on to you, the Great Man Who Is Going On A Journey."

With that, His Majesty produced a small silk bag, which he opened carefully, and placed in PM Obed's hands a medium sized Red Diamond, which seemed to sparkle with it's own internal light. "The Travelling Stone", explained His Majesty, "for someone who is about to undertake their last Journey."

His Majesty was quiet for a moment, allowing PM Obed to appreciate the diamond and the atmosphere in the room, before continuing.

"The thing is, this Tribe is so remote, they have no electricity, no radio, no television, no cars, yet they knew that you were ailing, and that I would be passing through on my way to visit. Make of that what you will, but I do believe someone wanted you to have this diamond, and that they knew it would comfort you as you prepare for your Journey."

Jesse Obed’s shaking and spotted hand clutched the diamond and he smiled weakly. He then spoke, “Your Imperial Majesty, I am humbled by your gift. I am humbled that you, or anyone for that matter should think me, a bureaucrat, a great anything. The gift that you have given me is not this diamond, of which God has many, but of your friendship and presence, of which there is only one. You have shaped the Roycelandian people as much as you have been shaped by them; and I smile every time I think of most of the rest of the world trying to understand our friendship. You have provided a place where my people can go and give in to temptation, but that is good too, for what good is sanctification, if it should not be tested? It makes me smile when I see Roycelandian citizens sneaking across into Florida to attend Church as well.”

He takes the diamond and hands it to an attendant, then grasps Royce’s hand in his almost childlike grip, bereft of the strength of youth. “God has granted you much, by right of birth, and then blessed you with the talents and abilities that you would need to be a wise steward of that which He has given you. But there always seems to be something missing from your life. A reverence. Seriousness. Now, your traditional garb is quite appealing, and as you know, in my state visits to Roycelandia, I have also worn garb much like yours, and you are beloved by your people and the world for your ability to laugh in the face of any crisis. That is one of your greatest gifts. But what is it that you cannot joke about? What principle would you die for? Who would you fight for, tooth and nail, sacrificing everything else? You must find that, your Majesty. I am not trying to convert you, only the Holy Spirit may do that, I am only asking, what is your sacred?”

At this, his eyes fluttered for a moment, and he slipped out of consciousness. Just as Royce was rising, suddenly noticing that he was standing facing the altar of the church, that question in his head, Jesse’s eyes snapped open, “If you wish to honour my memory, honour that which is scared. Your sacred. (cough) And also…..have a drink, on me.”

With that, a crate of Century old Scotch was brought in, from Queen Elizabeth I’s own stock, and Jesse Obed passed out, and Royce was ushered out of the room.

WWJD
Amen.

There was a tremendous wind in Jerusalem that night, one that tore through the city with unnatural strength. Pilgrims, Israelis, and mourners alike held down their hats as the maelstrom whipped and howled with a savage ferocity. Stores battened down their hatches, senile Rabbis preached the coming of the Apocalypse and the Messiah, and grousing old Orthodox Jews continued upon their daily business of cursing in Hebrew and playing Bingo.

The wind was so tremendous that it rattled the windows even in Obed's inner sanctum, and one gust was so strong that it blew apart the rusty locks and hurled the door open. As aides scrambled to seal it, a black blur flew out of the window and seemed to hover for a moment directly above the ailing Prime Minister. It gently floated down to his neck, and seemed to almost caress him. Obed smiled as he saw that the object was an all too familiar black scarf, and that there lay a small, handwritten note attached to it.

"To keep you warm for the long journey ahead."
----The Man In Black----

If someone had an inexplicabe desire to rob the tomb of Vladimir Putin, they would see withing the massive stone tomb the the pale, decomposing flesh of Russia's former leader. He would be clad in the black trenchcoat of his beloved mentor, Father O'Reilly, but a key element of his dress was seemingly gone. No matter how much this theoretical grave robber would search, he could never find something that every camera confirmed the President had been buried with.

His scarf.

Prime Minister Thomas Chaffin, although only having been elected fairly recently and therefore not had dealings with Obed over such a long period as other leaders, still had much reverence for this dieing statesman.

In his turn he entered the room and at first was typically patrician in his manner, "Sir, it was important to me to take this journey to the holy land so I could extend to you the best wishes of Her Majesty and on behalf of the United Kingdom, to thank you for the services to world peace, democracy and liberty that you have devoted your life. There are few people that are held in such high regard, who's judgement and wisdom is more respected.

"On a personal note, I am a religous man, an Anglican by baptism and, confirmation,and my faith is a private matter to be divorced from my politics. Whilst I do not, and will not ever allow my spirituality to be a public issue, I believe that the moral basis for my decisions does indeed stem from the church. Therefore, I would be most honoured if you would join me in prayer."

The Prime Minister, kneeled on the floor in his navy blue three piece suit, and bowed his head. "Hoc in templo, summe Deus, exoratus adveni, et clementi bonitate precum vota suscipe; largam benedictionem hic infunde jugiter. In memoria aeterna erit justus. Justorum animae di manu Dei sunt, nec attinget illas cruciatus. Gratia Domini nostri jesu Christi et caritas Dei Patris, et communication Spiritus Sancti, sit semper cum omnibus nobis. Amen."

Compared to many of the Great and the Good (heaven knows the two are not inseperable) Donald Livingston was not the most impressive figure to grace the slowly departing hero's bedside.

"Sir, you may know from what few past delaing swe have had together that I am not a man of great words or elegant prose and may even be considered by some to be somewhat of a ruffian, but it is with all my heart that i visit you on behalf of my people. Truely you have been a major example to our small nation, you and the the America you helped biuld have shone a light that has helped Strathdonia drag itself from its darkest hour and regain its footing on the road forward. I indeed wish that there was more that I could find to say about how my nation respects you but i suspect you may already know, but also i would wish to give my own personal thanks for your time with us, you are truely a great gift to the world from God and i feel thatas your time approachs the angels will be sining out for your arrival upon high."

Prime Minister Thomas Chaffin, although only having been elected fairly recently and therefore not had dealings with Obed over such a long period as other leaders, still had much reverence for this dieing statesman.

In his turn he entered the room and at first was typically patrician in his manner, "Sir, it was important to me to take this journey to the holy land so I could extend to you the best wishes of Her Majesty and on behalf of the United Kingdom, to thank you for the services to world peace, democracy and liberty that you have devoted your life. There are few people that are held in such high regard, who's judgement and wisdom is more respected.

"On a personal note, I am a religous man, an Anglican by baptism and, confirmation,and my faith is a private matter to be divorced from my politics. Whilst I do not, and will not ever allow my spirituality to be a public issue, I believe that the moral basis for my decisions does indeed stem from the church. Therefore, I would be most honoured if you would join me in prayer."

The Prime Minister, kneeled on the floor in his navy blue three piece suit, and bowed his head. "Hoc in templo, summe Deus, exoratus adveni, et clementi bonitate precum vota suscipe; largam benedictionem hic infunde jugiter. In memoria aeterna erit justus. Justorum animae di manu Dei sunt, nec attinget illas cruciatus. Gratia Domini nostri jesu Christi et caritas Dei Patris, et communication Spiritus Sancti, sit semper cum omnibus nobis. Amen."


After the prayer, during which Jesse Obed bowed his head respectfully, though he knew not a word of Latin, having grown up a Lutheran, and being a layperson, only knew a smattering of German and Dra-poel along with his native English.

This was the first visitor that came and prayed in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, though, he knew that at least. It warmed his heart to see the great ally of the Quinntonian people and co-founder of NATO lead by one that drew his moral compass from the same God that Jesse Obed prayed to. TBF had at times opposed and supported Quinntonia’s foreign policy, and sometimes even reacted with complete indifference. In the new age that Quinntonia would be entering into, it was nice to know that Prime Minister Thomas Chaffin would be guiding his people in the name of He who is risen.

With this, the greatest gift that he had yet been given, Jesse Obed said with a raspy voice, “There will come one after me who leads my people, and they will be standing shoulder to shoulder with you in many instances, please… guide them. Stand up to them, offer them advice, and know that they will listen, even if they disagree. I ask you also to pray that your people continue to make WEC and NATO strong by renewing your commitment to both of those organisations that your predecessor and I helped to design. They are the future of the western world, don’t see them fall.”

With that simple advice, Jesse Obed slipped into unconsciousness, and Prime Minister Thomas Chaffin was ushered out.

WWJD
Amen.

Compared to many of the Great and the Good (heaven knows the two are not inseperable) Donald Livingston was not the most impressive figure to grace the slowly departing hero's bedside.

"Sir, you may know from what few past delaing swe have had together that I am not a man of great words or elegant prose and may even be considered by some to be somewhat of a ruffian, but it is with all my heart that i visit you on behalf of my people. Truely you have been a major example to our small nation, you and the the America you helped biuld have shone a light that has helped Strathdonia drag itself from its darkest hour and regain its footing on the road forward. I indeed wish that there was more that I could find to say about how my nation respects you but i suspect you may already know, but also i would wish to give my own personal thanks for your time with us, you are truely a great gift to the world from God and i feel thatas your time approachs the angels will be sining out for your arrival upon high."


Jesse Obed smiled as Livingston approached. “Old Friend,” he croaked out, before having a brief coughing fit sending his attendants and doctors into shooting each other nervous looks, “You do me a great honour in coming here.” Jesse extended his hand and weakly clasped his visitors healthy one. It is then that Livingston could see that Jesse Obed was just a frail ghost of a man compared with the giant of Quinntonian politics that he once was.

Jesse thanked him for his kind words, and then began to speak, “Your nation holds a particularly dear place in the hearts of the Quinntonian people, as I hope our dealings have often shown, and I thank you for all the kindnesses that you have shown us. You are the great man, not I, as you have brought your nation to prominence in a unique and diplomatic way that no other nation could ever dream of doing. So, I have no advice to give you. I have only a request, and a promise.”

“First, I ask that you continue to show the Quinntonian people all the friendship that I know you are capable of. This is not an easy thing to do, and you may see people being very critical of Quinntonia very soon. Know that when it comes, it will be the will of the people, not some Machiavellian grasp for power. Also, I swear, that if you ever request any kind of help from my nation, you will have all you ask, and more. No matter what. If you fall in to tough times know that your Quinntonian brothers and sisters will stand with you.”

Jesse Obed and his friend continued to talk of times that they greed, disagreed, even argued about many issues in the past, in the end, Jesse felt that he couldn’t continue and Livingston was asked to leave.

WWJD
Amen.

There was a tremendous wind in Jerusalem that night, one that tore through the city with unnatural strength. Pilgrims, Israelis, and mourners alike held down their hats as the maelstrom whipped and howled with a savage ferocity. Stores battened down their hatches, senile Rabbis preached the coming of the Apocalypse and the Messiah, and grousing old Orthodox Jews continued upon their daily business of cursing in Hebrew and playing Bingo.

The wind was so tremendous that it rattled the windows even in Obed's inner sanctum, and one gust was so strong that it blew apart the rusty locks and hurled the door open. As aides scrambled to seal it, a black blur flew out of the window and seemed to hover for a moment directly above the ailing Prime Minister. It gently floated down to his neck, and seemed to almost caress him. Obed smiled as he saw that the object was an all too familiar black scarf, and that there lay a small, handwritten note attached to it.

"To keep you warm for the long journey ahead."
----The Man In Black----

If someone had an inexplicabe desire to rob the tomb of Vladimir Putin, they would see withing the massive stone tomb the the pale, decomposing flesh of Russia's former leader. He would be clad in the black trenchcoat of his beloved mentor, Father O'Reilly, but a key element of his dress was seemingly gone. No matter how much this theoretical grave robber would search, he could never find something that every camera confirmed the President had been buried with.

His scarf.


That was classic. Jesse Obed shall be buried in it, warm for his journey.

WWJD
Amen.

Hotan had arrived in Jerusalem, that much was known, but for several hours he could not be found. Two men -one 5'4" tall, the other only 5'1"- dressed in the padded winter jackets and red-blue insignia-marked skullcaps issued to Hong Juk (the Red Bamboo, a traditionally Suloist fighting force in Hotanite administration reorganised to be part of the ultra-Kurosite Banat security/intelligence agency) could be found, but they were unmoved both to communicate with foreigners and to search for their Director. They just stood, short but steady, and waited. Neither of them had ever seen a Semite, and the only white people they'd ever seen they'd killed. They wore short swords, akin to a Samurai's wakizashi but weilded as a primary rather than secondary blade, but no fire-arms, which were left in Spyr on the orders of the Director.

Eventually, Hotan appeared just outside Jesse's room. As yet he did not enter. To a cynic he appeared as if a scavenger awaiting the moment of death.

He wouldn't be rushed, not by death.

Hotan was middle aged by now, but it was hard to tell. He might have been thirty or seventy. As Drapoel he was a member of the shortest 'non-pygmy' society on earth, beset by an eternity of isolation and generations of chronic malnutrition. Hotan himself had always looked after himself, and been looked after by the Kurosian family, but his mother -whomever she had been- was under five feet tall, and epigenetics made him small enough, if one may be allowed to put it so bluntly, to fit out of her malnourished frame.

An observer could still see that the small, dark fellow was something of a powerhouse, but could not see the scars persisting from his bullet wounds delt by suspected but unproven Quinntonian agents and from the Chinese surgery that saved his life for today but sucked out much of his youthful might and quickness.

He was pacing, which was highly unusual, not that many people knew it, his long black hair, which grew only from the base of his skull while the rest of his head was shaved, swishing from side to side in its heavy plait. Sandals slapped on the floor. Eyes could almost fail to be found as they looked in rather than out. Hotan would be last.

Hotan had arrived in Jerusalem, that much was known, but for several hours he could not be found. Two men -one 5'4" tall, the other only 5'1"- dressed in the padded winter jackets and red-blue insignia-marked skullcaps issued to Hong Juk (the Red Bamboo, a traditionally Suloist fighting force in Hotanite administration reorganised to be part of the ultra-Kurosite Banat security/intelligence agency) could be found, but they were unmoved both to communicate with foreigners and to search for their Director. They just stood, short but steady, and waited. Neither of them had ever seen a Semite, and the only white people they'd ever seen they'd killed. They wore short swords, akin to a Samurai's wakizashi but weilded as a primary rather than secondary blade, but no fire-arms, which were left in Spyr on the orders of the Director.

Eventually, Hotan appeared just outside Jesse's room. As yet he did not enter. To a cynic he appeared as if a scavenger awaiting the moment of death.

He wouldn't be rushed, not by death.

Hotan was middle aged by now, but it was hard to tell. He might have been thirty or seventy. As Drapoel he was a member of the shortest 'non-pygmy' society on earth, beset by an eternity of isolation and generations of chronic malnutrition. Hotan himself had always looked after himself, and been looked after by the Kurosian family, but his mother -whomever she had been- was under five feet tall, and epigenetics made him small enough, if one may be allowed to put it so bluntly, to fit out of her malnourished frame.

An observer could still see that the small, dark fellow was something of a powerhouse, but could not see the scars persisting from his bullet wounds delt by suspected but unproven Quinntonian agents and from the Chinese surgery that saved his life for today but sucked out much of his youthful might and quickness.

He was pacing, which was highly unusual, not that many people knew it, his long black hair, which grew only from the base of his skull while the rest of his head was shaved, swishing from side to side in its heavy plait. Sandals slapped on the floor. Eyes could almost fail to be found as they looked in rather than out. Hotan would be last.


"He wishes to wait, Mr. Obed. His men and himself are under heavy gaurd, ever since they came into the embassy. And we will station soldiers in the room while he is in here."

"No!" There came the powerful vioce of the great statesman, almost as it was when he was climbing the tough political ladder that he eventually sat upon and redesigned in his own image, "He will be allowed to enter, with as many men as he wishes, and all my bodygaurds and attendants and doctors will leave us alone, and the great chapel doors will be closed behind us. WE have millions of deaths on our hands, if he wishes one more, I am ready to go. There are things that must be said between us that are not meant for any other eyes or ears. That is final!"

All who heard him knew that he could not be argued with.

OOC-I am still waiting on Louise and Wingert, so once their posts are done, then Hotan can make his final post.

WWJD
Amen.

Hotan had arrived in Jerusalem, that much was known, but for several hours he could not be found. Two men -one 5'4" tall, the other only 5'1"- dressed in the padded winter jackets and red-blue insignia-marked skullcaps issued to Hong Juk (the Red Bamboo, a traditionally Suloist fighting force in Hotanite administration reorganised to be part of the ultra-Kurosite Banat security/intelligence agency) could be found, but they were unmoved both to communicate with foreigners and to search for their Director. They just stood, short but steady, and waited. Neither of them had ever seen a Semite, and the only white people they'd ever seen they'd killed. They wore short swords, akin to a Samurai's wakizashi but weilded as a primary rather than secondary blade, but no fire-arms, which were left in Spyr on the orders of the Director.

Eventually, Hotan appeared just outside Jesse's room. As yet he did not enter. To a cynic he appeared as if a scavenger awaiting the moment of death.

He wouldn't be rushed, not by death.

Hotan was middle aged by now, but it was hard to tell. He might have been thirty or seventy. As Drapoel he was a member of the shortest 'non-pygmy' society on earth, beset by an eternity of isolation and generations of chronic malnutrition. Hotan himself had always looked after himself, and been looked after by the Kurosian family, but his mother -whomever she had been- was under five feet tall, and epigenetics made him small enough, if one may be allowed to put it so bluntly, to fit out of her malnourished frame.

An observer could still see that the small, dark fellow was something of a powerhouse, but could not see the scars persisting from his bullet wounds delt by suspected but unproven Quinntonian agents and from the Chinese surgery that saved his life for today but sucked out much of his youthful might and quickness.

He was pacing, which was highly unusual, not that many people knew it, his long black hair, which grew only from the base of his skull while the rest of his head was shaved, swishing from side to side in its heavy plait. Sandals slapped on the floor. Eyes could almost fail to be found as they looked in rather than out. Hotan would be last.


"He wishes to wait, Mr. Obed. His men and himself are under heavy gaurd, ever since they came into the embassy. And we will station soldiers in the room while he is in here."

"No!" There came the powerful vioce of the great statesman, almost as it was when he was climbing the tough political ladder that he eventually sat upon and redesigned in his own image, "He will be allowed to enter, with as many men as he wishes, and all my bodygaurds and attendants and doctors will leave us alone, and the great chapel doors will be closed behind us. WE have millions of deaths on our hands, if he wishes one more, I am ready to go. There are things that must be said between us that are not meant for any other eyes or ears. That is final!"

All who heard him knew that he could not be argued with.

OOC-I am still waiting on Louise and Wingert, so once their posts are done, then Hotan can make his final post.

WWJD
Amen.

The newly crowned monarch and Emperor of The Divine Russian Empire, Wingert I, along with the royal family comes to Jerusalem. Wingert leaves his family and the towering behemoth stomps into the sanctuary where Jesse Obed lie. He looks at the poor, frail man, are all of these democrats so weak in the body? At least Putin had some moxy, but it might be harder to stand for what Putin did in Russia.

Nevertheless, even Wingert could not deny the achievements of this little zealot, and walked, in his gold, plate mail armour, with his long, red cloak draped over his shoulders and cascading to the floor and his massive sword strapped to his back. He moved to the side of the bed, and then kneeled down, bowing his head and crossing himself, with his Father Confessor, Father Bahamut, swinging a censure of strong incense behind him and saying the mass of the Greek Rite.

Wingert took off his gauntlets and lay his hand on the smaller man’s limp one, and began to speak, in harsh Ukrainian, his translator bringing it to English for the ailing ex-PM, “Jesse Obed, your name is a famous and Biblical one, Obed was the father of Jesse, who in turn was the father of King David, greatest of warriors in the Old Testament, and the descendant of the Christos. They were simple patriarchs of a shepherd family whose son became a King, the Anointed of God, theo, tri-unios. His pneuma, Spirit, was breathed into the line of Kings and power of the children of Israel was given to them. God ruled this earth through His Anointed for centuries, but then your Quinntonian revolution came. That was bloody affair and the world stopped to watch, some of the Tsars ended up fighting against the French version some years later and you started something that you could never have realised how far it would have went. But now we know, with the rise of the Holy League, that God’s true way is one the rise again, and that your ways are falling. God has chosen to allow me to rule the largest expanse on Earth, and you must see that this is his blessing, it shows that we are right after all, regardless of what is said, don’t you agree?”


Tsar Wingert the Great.

The newly crowned monarch and Emperor of The Divine Russian Empire, Wingert I, along with the royal family comes to Jerusalem. Wingert leaves his family and the towering behemoth stomps into the sanctuary where Jesse Obed lie. He looks at the poor, frail man, are all of these democrats so weak in the body? At least Putin had some moxy, but it might be harder to stand for what Putin did in Russia.

Nevertheless, even Wingert could not deny the achievements of this little zealot, and walked, in his gold, plate mail armour, with his long, red cloak draped over his shoulders and cascading to the floor and his massive sword strapped to his back. He moved to the side of the bed, and then kneeled down, bowing his head and crossing himself, with his Father Confessor, Father Bahamut, swinging a censure of strong incense behind him and saying the mass of the Greek Rite.

Wingert took off his gauntlets and lay his hand on the smaller man’s limp one, and began to speak, in harsh Ukrainian, his translator bringing it to English for the ailing ex-PM, “Jesse Obed, your name is a famous and Biblical one, Obed was the father of Jesse, who in turn was the father of King David, greatest of warriors in the Old Testament, and the descendant of the Christos. They were simple patriarchs of a shepherd family whose son became a King, the Anointed of God, theo, tri-unios. His pneuma, Spirit, was breathed into the line of Kings and power of the children of Israel was given to them. God ruled this earth through His Anointed for centuries, but then your Quinntonian revolution came. That was bloody affair and the world stopped to watch, some of the Tsars ended up fighting against the French version some years later and you started something that you could never have realised how far it would have went. But now we know, with the rise of the Holy League, that God’s true way is one the rise again, and that your ways are falling. God has chosen to allow me to rule the largest expanse on Earth, and you must see that this is his blessing, it shows that we are right after all, regardless of what is said, don’t you agree?”


Tsar Wingert the Great.



Jesse Obed shed a tear that fell down the side of his face as he looked at the monster before him. He no longer had strength to hold his head up, but he knew that this man would not often again be willing to listen to someone that would not kow-tow to him, so Jesse knew he must answer, he must answer now, and he must answer well.

Jesse said a silent prayer to the Most High and began, “God be merciful to Wingert, a miserable sinner, for he knows not what he does, He is a mass-murderer, a tyrant, a demagogue and an evil man. God, that is true, has chosen him but he has not been chosen as David was chosen to be your anointed leader and King of the Israelites, but rather he has been chosen as Xerxes, King of the Babylonians, a pagan evil man given power and authority to punish the nation of Israel for their transgressions. In the name of Christ our Lord, Amen.” Jesse looked up to see Wingert shaking with rage, everyone else in the room had stopped dead still, even Father Bahamut had stopped mid-mass to listen to this little frail man who obviously had nothing to lose, so he flippantly spoke to the giant that stood before him. Jesse continued, “ You have enslaved many people, that is not something that should be bragged about rather, you should hang your head in shame for how you have treated both the Ukrainian and Lavragerian people. Kings are not anymore honoured by God than anyone else, all are equally fallen and sinful in the eyes of God, however, God does honour all who rule in His name. Wingert, regardless of the man you have been up till now, you now rule hundreds of millions of people. You have the opportunity to affect their lives for the better and more positively forward the promise and message of Jesus Christ to all people. You have that power, and it is that, not the power to move armies and conquer lands that makes you truly great. Look to the history of your nation, it was not the winning of wars that earned Tsars the title of “Great” but of making their nation and Empire better in some ways. You could do that. So do it. STOP BEING A COWARD AND DO IT!” With that final outburst, Jesse coughed up much blood and passed out. Wingert, now, very emotional, was ushered out a politely as possible.

WWJD
Amen.

The Hindustani delegation finally arrives in Jerusalem after more than a day of hectic airline travel. Not aware of Obed's being in the Holy City, the Parliamentarians flew to Washington D.C., where their Tu-154 airliner suffered an engine failure. Mumbai eventually wired several thousand dollars to El Al in order to cover the cost of the flight from Washington D.C. to Tel Aviv. Four MPs and one grizzled old Pole finally ended up on a bus, and after being detained at several Israeli checkpoints they managed to make their way to Jesse Obed's chapel.

Tsar Wingert's great hulking figure comes as something of a surprise and the Parliamentarians push out of his way before Russia's new tyrant decides to spit on them.

Marshal Syzko is the first to enter Obed's room.

"Mr. Prime Minister?" says Syzko as he inches towards Obed. "It pains me to see you in such a condition. Stricken down by a malicious tumor when Drapoel assassins failed to do the job. I hear," Syzko tries to inject a bit of humor, "they're quite effective...Of all the heads of state that I've had the pleasure, or displeasure, of knowing during my career in the civil service, I must say very few have been so well-endowed with a sense of morality as you, and every Hindustani respects you deeply for that. You were the first Western leader to take our nation seriously, and the first to see that monster Llewellyn for what he really was. I daresay, if it wasn't for Quinntonia's diplomatic leverage, Hindustan would be a very different place."

The four other Parliamentarians stand slightly behind Syzko, smiling comfortingly, or at least as comfortingly as possible for a cast of characters ranging from a Punjab wheat farmer, Gujarat shipbuilder, Maharasthra medical examiner, and Balochistan goatherd. Unlike Syzko, they all had their hands full with the numerous languages found in Hindustan itself and had therefore never learned English, but sympathy and respect are largely universal emotions.

"I'm afraid that, despite the best efforts of our Parliament, we could not come up with a gift suitable for or useful to your person. However, I believe we have come up with something rather longer-lasting. It is my honor to inform you that the Commonwealth of Hindustan has seen it fit to put aside the equivalent of twenty-five million Quinntonian dollars for the development and improvement of New Guinea."

The Hindustani delegation finally arrives in Jerusalem after more than a day of hectic airline travel. Not aware of Obed's being in the Holy City, the Parliamentarians flew to Washington D.C., where their Tu-154 airliner suffered an engine failure. Mumbai eventually wired several thousand dollars to El Al in order to cover the cost of the flight from Washington D.C. to Tel Aviv. Four MPs and one grizzled old Pole finally ended up on a bus, and after being detained at several Israeli checkpoints they managed to make their way to Jesse Obed's chapel.

Tsar Wingert's great hulking figure comes as something of a surprise and the Parliamentarians push out of his way before Russia's new tyrant decides to spit on them.

Marshal Syzko is the first to enter Obed's room.

"Mr. Prime Minister?" says Syzko as he inches towards Obed. "It pains me to see you in such a condition. Stricken down by a malicious tumor when Drapoel assassins failed to do the job. I hear," Syzko tries to inject a bit of humor, "they're quite effective...Of all the heads of state that I've had the pleasure, or displeasure, of knowing during my career in the civil service, I must say very few have been so well-endowed with a sense of morality as you, and every Hindustani respects you deeply for that. You were the first Western leader to take our nation seriously, and the first to see that monster Llewellyn for what he really was. I daresay, if it wasn't for Quinntonia's diplomatic leverage, Hindustan would be a very different place."

The four other Parliamentarians stand slightly behind Syzko, smiling comfortingly, or at least as comfortingly as possible for a cast of characters ranging from a Punjab wheat farmer, Gujarat shipbuilder, Maharasthra medical examiner, and Balochistan goatherd. Unlike Syzko, they all had their hands full with the numerous languages found in Hindustan itself and had therefore never learned English, but sympathy and respect are largely universal emotions.

"I'm afraid that, despite the best efforts of our Parliament, we could not come up with a gift suitable for or useful to your person. However, I believe we have come up with something rather longer-lasting. It is my honor to inform you that the Commonwealth of Hindustan has seen it fit to put aside the equivalent of twenty-five million Quinntonian dollars for the development and improvement of New Guinea."



AS the blood is wiped unceremoniously off of his chin, and he listens to the esteemed members from Hindustan, he speaks, rushed a little; he knows that it won’t be long now, “I want you to know, “he whispers, so far gone is his strength, “that the Quinntonian people have always seen Hindustan as our friends and allies. I won’t lie to you and say that we understand your motivations at the best of times, but you have always acted with great character when times called for it. Your men fought and died next to ours against Dra-pol, we bled the same blood into the same mud together, and are not quick to forget that. Dra-pol will have to be dealt with again, my friends, and I am afraid that many Quinntonians will die in the process. I am afraid of the suffering that goes on still in Dra-pol, and afraid of reports that they may be entering into an era of forced ruralisation that could cost millions of lives. I see your people as a group that has a social conscious that may even exceed our own, we Quinntonians have just been granted great blessings in being so many and so wealthy. You do not have that advantage, and yet still you give. You are the shining light of the so-called Progressive Bloc. You give the Quinntonian people the only reason to pause when considering this movement. Neo-Anarchos seems to be a gang of thugs that are using the lack of government as an excuse to party, and BG is willing to kill to extend its views into other places. You go out, and help. I want you to know that it is not a question of politics that fuels Quinntonian mistrust of BG, but rather faith. BG supported Dra-pol during the war. They have institutionalised discrimination against faith-worldviews such as mine, and have pushed the Quinntonian people far because of it. They have aided the Butcher of Hamhung in killing over a million people!” At this, he rests his head back, catching his breath again, obviously in pain recalling the death of so many under his watch.

“You stood for what was right. Not what was politically convenient, not for what your neighbour would dictate to you, but for what you thought was right. You stood against murder and tyranny, even if they claimed to be of the same political leaning, and you stood with those you disagreed with at a fundamental level. You stood with a bunch of cross-worshipping zealots who served an invisible man in the sky. But regardless of who you stood with, it mattered more to you what you stood FOR. And that is what makes you a great people. You will always have a friend in Quinntonia, and I hope that we always have a fiend in you. As for the gift, thank you, any amount that will go to alleviate the suffering of my fellow man is appreciated.” At this point, his visitors notice that his nose begins to bleed profusely, when a doctor is called, Jesse Obed, goes into cardiac arrest, and the Hindustani delegation is ushered out. They later receive news that Jesse Obed is alive still, but not for long.

WWJD
Amen.

The President of the Federal Dictatorship, on his first visit to the State of Israel in recent years, arrived in Jerusalem, hopefully in time to pay his respects to Obed. Wearing a dark grey business suit, he instructs his entourage of aides and security agents to wait outside the room before entering.

"Prime Minister, welcome to the Middle East. It pains me dearly to see you in such condition, but I must say I envy the certainty you have in what will follow. At least for you the problems of this earth are no longer yours to contend with and as you prepare for your departure let me try and offer you some reassurance of what might occur in your absence. The United States and United Elias have enjoyed excellent relations to date, we are major trading partners and I believe, no, I know that we share similar moral and political values. Although I do not think in the near future I can commit my nation to NATO as rigid military alliances may not be in our long term best interest, United Elias can and should always be considered as a friend of your nation and of the Western, free-market, world. Over the next few months, I will also be considering in detail whether it would be advantageous for United Elias to request membership of the World Economic Council, and perhaps through this body we can not only seek to increase our own prosperity but also to challenge the problems of poverty and suffering across the world. I believe that our nations have done much to champion the cause of liberty thus far and we will no doubt continue to, together. I think you will be leaving this world a better place than you found it, and that you will not only be remembered as a great man, but also as a good man.

"As a small token of appreciation and recognition from the people of United Elias I wish to bestow upon you the Grand Corden of the Order of the Star of Honour (http://www.medals.org.uk/egypt/egypt-republic/images/egypt-republic018.jpg), our nation's highest decoration, for services to peace and freedom." The President opens an engraved leather case and carefully places the cordons and ribbons of the medal over Jesse Obed's neck.

The President of the Federal Dictatorship, on his first visit to the State of Israel in recent years, arrived in Jerusalem, hopefully in time to pay his respects to Obed. Wearing a dark grey business suit, he instructs his entourage of aides and security agents to wait outside the room before entering.

"Prime Minister, welcome to the Middle East. It pains me dearly to see you in such condition, but I must say I envy the certainty you have in what will follow. At least for you the problems of this earth are no longer yours to contend with and as you prepare for your departure let me try and offer you some reassurance of what might occur in your absence. The United States and United Elias have enjoyed excellent relations to date, we are major trading partners and I believe, no, I know that we share similar moral and political values. Although I do not think in the near future I can commit my nation to NATO as rigid military alliances may not be in our long term best interest, United Elias can and should always be considered as a friend of your nation and of the Western, free-market, world. Over the next few months, I will also be considering in detail whether it would be advantageous for United Elias to request membership of the World Economic Council, and perhaps through this body we can not only seek to increase our own prosperity but also to challenge the problems of poverty and suffering across the world. I believe that our nations have done much to champion the cause of liberty thus far and we will no doubt continue to, together. I think you will be leaving this world a better place than you found it, and that you will not only be remembered as a great man, but also as a good man.

"As a small token of appreciation and recognition from the people of United Elias I wish to bestow upon you the Grand Corden of the Order of the Star of Honour (http://www.medals.org.uk/egypt/egypt-republic/images/egypt-republic018.jpg), our nation's highest decoration, for services to peace and freedom." The President opens an engraved leather case and carefully places the cordons and ribbons of the medal over Jesse Obed's neck.

Jesse Obed is still very weak, and is still unable to lift his head from the pillow, even to accept the medal. He smiles weakly, as his ventilator pumps away, having been put on oxygen recently in order to allow him to more easily breathe. He smiles at the great honour, and accepts the medal, though his head had to be manually lifted for him to do so. He responds, “Your nation and mine have enjoyed great relations, and I am very happy to see that we have continued to walk forward in prosperity and friendship. You have seen to that continuing and so have I. I realise that your position, unique as it is, precludes you from entering into a hard and fast military alliance, even though NATO is an exclusively defensive alliance, with no provision for any military help on foreign soil. But, the idea that you would consider entering into WEC is heart-warming, and Quinntonia would be more than happy to sponsor your membership. The money that you will give in order to develop lesser economies will no doubt go a long way towards alleviating man’s suffering on this mortal coil. I do hope that you will continue on in that vein. Your voice is one of great influence around the world, and I want you to know that Quinntonia would rally to your side in any conflict. You are the protector of the cradle of civilisation, that is a great responsibility, carry it well.”

At this point, Jesse Obed’s eyes begin to flutter and he drifts into sleep, almost in mid-sentence.

WWJD
Amen.

His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste and his wife Queen Jillesepone did indeed drop by Obed's death bed on their return from the Tsars coronation back to Versailles.

The King, not to even mention the Queen (who had nothing but loathing for Quinntonnians...in private) was no great fan of Monsieur Obed and his idealouge politics, but the man was a Christian, and that said alot.

It was a short visit, the monarchs landed by swarms of glittering bodyguards, they left in the same manner. In French they prayed the rosary once on their knees at the foot of Obeds bed. No Mass would be held, the Bourbons were anxious to get back on the plane and back to their amusements in the Palace. They spoke to no other foreign dignitary, they simply made the quick trip to see the Quinntonnian Prome Minister.

As a final gesture of amicability, His Majesty then gave M. Obed his word that all Christian faiths would be defended by the Catholic French Crown, regardless of denomination (except Freemaisonry, which was considered treason), as long as a Bourbon reigned. It was called, heretofore by history, The Proclamation of Manifest Charity. Then the Lords Prayer was said, hesitantly by the Royal couple in English for they knew the language only mildly.

And then Christian King and Serene Queen were on their way back to Versailles. Her Highness the Queen left a crucifix handing at the foot of Obeds bed, with a get well card signed by Louis, Jillesepone, and all four Princes of the Blood.

His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste and his wife Queen Jillesepone did indeed drop by Obed's death bed on their return from the Tsars coronation back to Versailles.

The King, not to even mention the Queen (who had nothing but loathing for Quinntonnians...in private) was no great fan of Monsieur Obed and his idealouge politics, but the man was a Christian, and that said alot.

It was a short visit, the monarchs landed by swarms of glittering bodyguards, they left in the same manner. In French they prayed the rosary once on their knees at the foot of Obeds bed. No Mass would be held, the Bourbons were anxious to get back on the plane and back to their amusements in the Palace. They spoke to no other foreign dignitary, they simply made the quick trip to see the Quinntonnian Prome Minister.

As a final gesture of amicability, His Majesty then gave M. Obed his word that all Christian faiths would be defended by the Catholic French Crown, regardless of denomination (except Freemaisonry, which was considered treason), as long as a Bourbon reigned. It was called, heretofore by history, The Proclamation of Manifest Charity. Then the Lords Prayer was said, hesitantly by the Royal couple in English for they knew the language only mildly.

And then Christian King and Serene Queen were on their way back to Versailles. Her Highness the Queen left a crucifix handing at the foot of Obeds bed, with a get well card signed by Louis, Jillesepone, and all four Princes of the Blood.


With the hurried nature of te visit, Jesse Obed did all that he could to keep up, joining in on the prayers, though when the French rosary was spoken, he only prayed the Our Father parts, and respectfully stayed silent during the Marian portions, he was a Lutheran, after all. He did mention, through a translator that Jillesepone's father had been there the day before, and that Jesse Obed was delighted to see him. He also asked the Frecnh monarch what was deemed to be the highest favour that he could think of, to have Louise lay hands upon the dying Jesse Obed, in order that God take notice of the humble commoner. Jesse Obed spoke of his father, regretting the way in which he died, and speaking of Louis XX's great love for the French people. Jesse Obed saw that there was no way that the French monarch would listen to him about much else, and left it at that.

At this, he asked the doctor to give him a stimulant, even though the doctor warned that it may bring about cardiac arrest, and in Mr. Obed's weakened condition, kill him. Jesse ordered it anyway, he would not face Hotan without the stregth to hold his head up. He had his attendants help him to sit up, and clean up his appearancce, then he had them all leave, and ask that Hotan come in to speak with him.


WWJD
Amen.

The news that Jesse Obed's final hours would not be long in the coming stunned President Choi as he received word in Taegu. Quinntonia had long been an advocate and staunch ally of Geronia and indeed all of the southern part of the Korean peninsula. The aid they had given to Geronia in her hour of need had enabled the country to survive the Dra-pol invasion and now it was time to return the favor.

As the presidential aircraft touched down in Quinntonia's capital, President Choi stiffly rose from his seat. Behind the usual entourage of security officers and aides walked a man who had a lot to thank Quinntonia for.

Lee Hong Min had long been a devout Christian, a pastor, a long-time member of the Presbyterian Church and was now the leader of the Korean Christian Alliance. He had nearly been executed by Communist forces during the first war with Dra-pol for refusing to renounce his faith and only the intervention of Quinntonian forces had saved his life. Now at sixty-five, he was prepared to travel to Quinntonia with the president to thank Jesse Obed for so speedily aiding the spread of the Word throughout Geronia.

Upon arrival at the hospital, aides informed them that there were other dignitaries waiting to pay their respect to the dying leader. President Choi smiled warmly, saying they'd gladly wait until they were ready to be received.

As the president sat pondering the politics on the situation, Pastor Min only closed his eyes and began to pray..

The news that Jesse Obed's final hours would not be long in the coming stunned President Choi as he received word in Taegu. Quinntonia had long been an advocate and staunch ally of Geronia and indeed all of the southern part of the Korean peninsula. The aid they had given to Geronia in her hour of need had enabled the country to survive the Dra-pol invasion and now it was time to return the favor.

As the presidential aircraft touched down in Quinntonia's capital, President Choi stiffly rose from his seat. Behind the usual entourage of security officers and aides walked a man who had a lot to thank Quinntonia for.

Lee Hong Min had long been a devout Christian, a pastor, a long-time member of the Presbyterian Church and was now the leader of the Korean Christian Alliance. He had nearly been executed by Communist forces during the first war with Dra-pol for refusing to renounce his faith and only the intervention of Quinntonian forces had saved his life. Now at sixty-five, he was prepared to travel to Quinntonia with the president to thank Jesse Obed for so speedily aiding the spread of the Word throughout Geronia.

Upon arrival at the hospital, aides informed them that there were other dignitaries waiting to pay their respect to the dying leader. President Choi smiled warmly, saying they'd gladly wait until they were ready to be received.

As the president sat pondering the politics on the situation, Pastor Min only closed his eyes and began to pray..



OOC-I will just assume that this is all happening before the last visit, so that Hotan can be last, with Jesse waiting. Also, Jesse is in a Cathedral/Embassy in Jerusalem, not Quinntonia, just FYI.
I am very ahppy to see a player controlling North Korea, and your first posts lokk like they will be promising in the extreme.

IC-Jesse Obed welcomed President Choi and Pastor Min, thanking them for their visits and listening to the story of Pastor Min. Tears come to the aged ex-Prime Minister's eyes and he says, "Your story is not unlike hundreds that I have heard. I rest upon those stories whenever I question whether or not Quinntonia should be in Korea at all. Over 1 million Quinntonians have spilled their blood to fight the evil personified that is Dra-pol, and we wil coninue to fight and die to protect those Dra-poel and Koreans that wish not to live under the thumb of that evil dictator. I have spent my life too soon, perhaps if I had been able to live a little while longer, I wopuld have been able to save more lives, perhaps if I had been stronger, smarter, more Holy. Perhaps.... or perhaps not. So many lives gone, so many killed. Was it worth it? Tell me, was it worth it? The people in your natio that are still living in freedom, those some 6 million in Quinntonian Dra-pol that are under constant siege, are their lives worth all the death? I ordered it, you know, the order to begin the defense of Hamhung and the Three Year War. I am responsible for the deaths of two million of thiers, as well as the million of mine. Pray for me, I have so much blood on my hands.....so much blood. But.....I would do it all agian. I would get shot by Dra-poel assassins agin, I woudl make all of the orderes I made again, I would fight to defend you again. I know that the Quinntonian people consider it their sacred duty to defend you, and I hope to communicate that is my wish, beyond the grave. Thank you for coming, my firends, I must now stare into the black."

WWJD
Amen.

Pastor Min reached out to take the dying leader's hand in his. Smiling through the cool tears that now traced their way down his aged face, the elderly Geronian nodded his head once, whispering in a voice so low it seemed almost inaudible.

"It was worth it," sobbed the elderly man, his smile still unwavering despite the grief etched on his face. "And we thank you. Every day. Not a day goes by where I don't remember the sacrifices you and your people have made on behalf of mine."

His wrinkled calloused hands squeezed Jesse Obed's, the frail grip meeting the weakening one of the Quinntonian leader's.

"You've done much work on this Earth for His glory, Mr. Obed," smiled Min, tears still running down his cheeks. "But for now, your trials here are done. There is a need for you in Heaven, our Father calls you. And one day.." he broke off, sobbing. "One day I will see you again."

His hands parted with Jesse Obed's for the last time.

"Go with God."

The French Royal visit would stay a bit longer, one day to be precise, that the most moving ceremony in the Royal repertoire could be performed:

Les Rois Thaumaturges…the Kings Touch.

It was the oldest recorded ceremony of the French Kings, beginning with the Merovingian Dynasty centuries ago. On occasion of Holy Days and special circumstances, the King (who like a Priest was anointed with the Holy Orders of the Catholic Church) went to sick, dying, and diseased. Using the power of his authority granted by God, the monarch would bless the invalid by holding the victims cheeks with his bare hands and make the sign of the cross with the Royal thumb upon the poor souls forehead with chrism. It was no small ceremony, and illustrated the Kings supreme position between heaven and earth.

So be it, the act would be performed in Jerusalem.

Starting at dawn the poor and ill of the city, in this case Christian as well as Muslim and Jew, were brought before Obed’s residence. Then, moving on foot from a humble Catholic Monastery came Louis-Auguste. The Queen had not the power of the touch, so she returned to Versailles early. Gone was his powder and regalia of rulership though King he remained, today he wore the chasuble of a Dominican monk, his luscious black hair without an expensive white dusting, tied with a bow behind his head; he was dressed to perform another of his functions in the world. He took no bodyguards with him, despite their objections. His only escorts were twelve Franciscan monks singing psalms who followed him, and the Grand Almoner of France Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan, in a Cardinals habit, who walked besides him.

Greeted with the stricken in front of Obeds temporary abode, His Most Christian Majesty earned his title. Little children ill with cancer were hoisted up by surprisingly strong hands, in that embrace their tears were wiped away, and a kiss was received upon the chrism of their foreheads. Old men to infirm to walk in turn had the King kneel before them, gently making the stations of the cross about their wheelchair. A woman, an elderly Muslim woman dying of leukemia, kissed the hand that turned her frown into an accepting smile with the words “the piety of women gives the world hope, may God heal you dear mother, and restore you into this world for his own purpose.” No cameras were allowed, for as Jesus himself one ought do good works anonymously, and take no credit, for only the Lord is good.

All this Monsieur Obed would see from his room. Then the King arrived, holding his hands apart in the traditional Papal gesture which seemed to say pax tecum, frater. With the monks singing the twenty third psalm, the Most Christian King of France, Defender of the Faith laid the Royal Hands upon Monsieur Obed. Chrism was brought, Obed was adorned. In those few minutes he saw what a French King really was, not a charismatic figure ruling on high from Versailles, nor a potent and able military despot: the King of France was simply a chosen of the Lord charged with doing good works in the world, looking after the flock until their eternal master took charge.

“Be of good hope, brother. The Lord is merciful,” finding no more words to say, with indeed the psalm even unsettling Louis-Auguste with near tears, the King kissed Obed upon his forehead, and cradled his head in his hands for a moment of prayer.

So Louis-Auguste, Most Christian King of France, had performed a role he was called upon to do. Yea with a more righteous heart he gathered himself, once more grounded in his job, and returned to his Court and Family in Versailles.

Hotan entered, and a more stark contrast between the physical extremes attainable by men could not be cast than between he, with his peasant trousers and blouse and hair like a Manchu (though he would insist that the Manchurians copied the Drapoel), standing hardly five and a half feet tall; and recent visitor Wingert, whom Hotan observed from a distance and felt almost compelled to attack, just to see whether he could. Ah, ten years ago, before the Christians gave me these aching wounds.

He approached Obed, looking quite steady, and suddenly the Prime Minister looked probably less sick than he had before exhausting himself, if only by contrast to the tiny Director with his skin looking almost brittle on the surface and his strength drained by a wound and age induced inability to train so hard as he had in youth, not to mention the stress of his exile... and the suicidal counter-coup plans he worked upon in disregard of his own chances of surviving them.

For the first time outside of his private dwellings, he spoke in English, quite well but with positively the heaviest Drapoel accent of any who'd learned another tongue.

First he greeted Obed as an honourable leader of men, and fellow in scarred survival of each's attempts to assassinate the other. Then he went on:

"Though your people sprang from a garden and mine from a mountain, they share something of importance greater than either one of we two. Yours, I understand, speak of a divinely wrought flood having purged the land. Perhaps it was our divine mountain that spared us cause to pass on such legends of destruction and rebirth, as we stood above the waters... but Dra-pol's time to be counted has come in the end, fittingly enough at the twisted hand of a man from a mountain top. Dra-pol, as I have told some of my Strainist friends and no other, is in the sickly grip of Koshiako Kurosian, the illegitimate son of my mentor and his European mistress, and a feeble child whom I am guilty of sparing when my had was as a god's in the mountains. He has come back, a wicked angel sent from atop Paegam, to purify Korea, and the mountains will not save us this time."

Hotan took his time.

"Your god is still in the sky with angels there- ours turn their backs, perhaps, I do not know, because we have allowed yours into their kingdom. Trying to reconcile with my people's gods by bringing back into their domain the south [ROK] has proven my greatest mistake. Drapoel angels are all avengers, all white blood cells, they reject the body of Seoul-Korea and poison good tissue around it.

"I have made my mistake, and until penance is paid I can do nothing for my people as an earthly leader, nor can our gods be expected to do more than send their terrible angels and ask why their mountains were not good enough to save us this time. The Korean ark has bad wood, Noah is an angel sitting in harsh judgement at the helm, and heaven is upon the jagged rocks of Paegam and Paektu-san. I am here... because my people have no guardian in this time. I come to ask that you watch over them on leaving your people to a new captain and the continued watch of their god [God]."

The exiled Director clasped his hands tightly before his chest and seemed to nod a little in the closest thing to a bow ever likely to be seen from a Kurosite before giving a firm salute with an arm extended up and forwards, fist clenched, and prepared himself to depart. A great trial awaited the little man dressed as eastern peasantry, and he appeared to have no more time for the middle lands. He had to return to the east to continue the work of preparing for Drapoel liberation from introspection and a return to his reforms that had, despite the criticism from his enemies, opened the nation and reduced suffering inside one decade by a greater degree than all the leaders of the past millenia. He'd also made a mistake that only a handful of leaders had the opportunity to make since the forced split of Korea, but he was at least the first to understand it.

It wasn't until he turned his back and took a step away, with Obed no longer in his line of sight, that Hotan suddenly began to wonder what a new Quinntonia would mean to him and the people from whom he was forcibly disenfranchised...

Hotan entered, and a more stark contrast between the physical extremes attainable by men could not be cast than between he, with his peasant trousers and blouse and hair like a Manchu (though he would insist that the Manchurians copied the Drapoel), standing hardly five and a half feet tall; and recent visitor Wingert, whom Hotan observed from a distance and felt almost compelled to attack, just to see whether he could. Ah, ten years ago, before the Christians gave me these aching wounds.

He approached Obed, looking quite steady, and suddenly the Prime Minister looked probably less sick than he had before exhausting himself, if only by contrast to the tiny Director with his skin looking almost brittle on the surface and his strength drained by a wound and age induced inability to train so hard as he had in youth, not to mention the stress of his exile... and the suicidal counter-coup plans he worked upon in disregard of his own chances of surviving them.

For the first time outside of his private dwellings, he spoke in English, quite well but with positively the heaviest Drapoel accent of any who'd learned another tongue.

First he greeted Obed as an honourable leader of men, and fellow in scarred survival of each's attempts to assassinate the other. Then he went on:

"Though your people sprang from a garden and mine from a mountain, they share something of importance greater than either one of we two. Yours, I understand, speak of a divinely wrought flood having purged the land. Perhaps it was our divine mountain that spared us cause to pass on such legends of destruction and rebirth, as we stood above the waters... but Dra-pol's time to be counted has come in the end, fittingly enough at the twisted hand of a man from a mountain top. Dra-pol, as I have told some of my Strainist friends and no other, is in the sickly grip of Koshiako Kurosian, the illegitimate son of my mentor and his European mistress, and a feeble child whom I am guilty of sparing when my had was as a god's in the mountains. He has come back, a wicked angel sent from atop Paegam, to purify Korea, and the mountains will not save us this time."

Hotan took his time.

"Your god is still in the sky with angels there- ours turn their backs, perhaps, I do not know, because we have allowed yours into their kingdom. Trying to reconcile with my people's gods by bringing back into their domain the south [ROK] has proven my greatest mistake. Drapoel angels are all avengers, all white blood cells, they reject the body of Seoul-Korea and poison good tissue around it.

"I have made my mistake, and until penance is paid I can do nothing for my people as an earthly leader, nor can our gods be expected to do more than send their terrible angels and ask why their mountains were not good enough to save us this time. The Korean ark has bad wood, Noah is an angel sitting in harsh judgement at the helm, and heaven is upon the jagged rocks of Paegam and Paektu-san. I am here... because my people have no guardian in this time. I come to ask that you watch over them on leaving your people to a new captain and the continued watch of their god [God]."

The exiled Director clasped his hands tightly before his chest and seemed to nod a little in the closest thing to a bow ever likely to be seen from a Kurosite before giving a firm salute with an arm extended up and forwards, fist clenched, and prepared himself to depart. A great trial awaited the little man dressed as eastern peasantry, and he appeared to have no more time for the middle lands. He had to return to the east to continue the work of preparing for Drapoel liberation from introspection and a return to his reforms that had, despite the criticism from his enemies, opened the nation and reduced suffering inside one decade by a greater degree than all the leaders of the past millenia. He'd also made a mistake that only a handful of leaders had the opportunity to make since the forced split of Korea, but he was at least the first to understand it.

It wasn't until he turned his back and took a step away, with Obed no longer in his line of sight, that Hotan suddenly began to wonder what a new Quinntonia would mean to him and the people from whom he was forcibly disenfranchised...

OOC-That would have been cool, the little martial artist against the giant Tsar, the latest in a series of AMW character death matches.

So this was one of the many faces of evil. And like all evil, it is a corruptor. It stains everything it comes in contact with, and brings them down a little from the Sanctification that God wishes to see in us. Jesse Obed had into politics reluctantly, originally wanting to be a writer, and began a political movement in Quinntonia that was unlike anything that they had ever seen before. An inter-denominational party, apart of Church politics, out from under the thumb of the Council of Bishops, and lead by all things, a layperson. And he had lead his people done all that he thought was right, at every step, striving to move forward the Cross of Christ in his decisions and actions, but the use of the chemical weapons and the deaths of all of those missionaries that were just trying to help the Dra-poel people killed, over 100,000 of them. And they were tortured and crucified, mocking that of our Lord. And Dra-poel terrorists, students that he had asked into the country to educate them so they could go back to help their own people, had tries to assassinate him, that left him paralysed in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He had lost his head, and ordered the assassinations of Kurosian I and Hotan. Kurosian had been deemed the most dangerous, and had our best operative put on it, and that had been successful. Hotan had single-handedly defeated a small team of special operatives, barely surviving. Kurosian’s death had been the only one on his whole life that Jesse Obed cold not reconcile, it was murder, plain as day, and it was he who murdered him. Now Hotan, the one that survived, stood before him, with all of the strength that had since gone out of Jesse Obed. Jesse listened intently to Hotan’s little speech, and then spoke himself saying, “You and I have stared across at each other over the Pacific Ocean for quite awhile, Hotan, each silently studying the maps and military projections that we hoped would lead to the other’s fall. I have lived through now four Dra-poel leaders since we made first contact on that fateful day, and I have seen a collective 3 million human beings lay down their lives battering each other against the others defences. I gave the order for the events that perpetrated the Three Years War, though we were most definitely entrapped, and I put forward the political might that it took to build the Westgaard Wall. It is me who stations troops there even now to defend a people against their old overlords, and it is me who did a great many things that caused your nation pain, though you could have stopped it ay any time. It was also me who ordered the assassination of your old master, Kurosian I. I did take a perverse pleasure in listening to the reports of his last words, and it was me who ordered your death. I am your attacker. I am your white demon, and I am your enemy. But I am glad you are here, for I can finally ask this question of you, can you forgive me? My God had already done so, but it is important for me to ask you, whether or not you even answer is not important, but thank you for the opportunity to ask, at the very least. I don’t know what I will be able to do when I reach the other side, but at the very least, know that I have prayed, on bended knee every day since that first, for your nation, and ever since I learned the name of Hotan, I have prayed for your health and for your salvation. And until I go, which may not be long, I will continue to do so. You could answer me one thing though, what help could Quinntonia as a nation offer your people in the next ten years?”


Shortly after Hotan and Jesse talked, and Hotan was led out, his attendants came back in and spoke with him. He just lay there and cried, clutching his Bible. And prayed the Lord’s Prayer over and over again. Then suddenly, he looked up and said, “I don’t feel well, you may have to call the doctor,” and went into cardiac arrest.






Nurse, call it a Code Blue!

I don’t have any pulse doctor!

Get the difibulator over here! And prepare 10 cc’s of adrenaline!

Administer adrenaline, and you nurse begin prayer procedure! C’mon, don’t do this to me, not yet!

Alright everybody clear! (ZAP)

Eeeeeeeee..blip…beep…beep…eeeeeeeee

Clear! (ZAP)

Eeeeeeeeeee….blip….beep….eeeeeeeeeee

Please Lord God! Clear! (ZAP)

Eeeeeeeeeee…blip…..eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Call it. Estimated time of death is at…….




WWJD
Amen.

QNN Special Announcement

Great statesman and leader, ex-Prime Minister Jesse Obed was pronounced dead at the Quinntonian embassy in Jerusalem today, surrounded by friends and family. This amazing man was visited by many of the world’s top leaders who came to pay their respects, and was found to be working for the betterment of mankind right to the end. Reports have come in that The Council of Bishops have convened an emergency session and asked that the current Prime Minister Vanessa Moerike, to attend. Reports are coming in that the Mexican President and his advisors have also been asked to attend. Wait…we are just getting this, it seems as though that meeting is long over, and we are now going live to Washington, D.C., in the White House Press Room.

(Scene changes to focus on a podium with Vanessa Moerike in a dark blue suit-skirt. She is followed by a few notables, including notable Bishops, and Bishop Robert Schultz IV, key diplomat; and Gerald Westgaard I, Governor Bishop of Quinntonian Dra-pol, also the one who made first contact with the Dra-poel, as well as President Vicente FOX Quesada of Mexico and several of his aides)

Deacon Vanessa Moerike speaks, “My fellow Quinntonians, as you must already know, ex-Quinntonian Prime Minister Jesse Obed died today, finally being taken home in his long fight with cancer. This great Christian world leader is finally home, and his fight is over, all of his pain and suffering will be rewarded with a great crown in Heaven, at the bosom of Jesus. Praise be to God! (The entire room responds with a loud, Praise be to God!)
Jesse Obed poured his entire life into crafting this great nation of ours into the bastion of freedom and Christian ideals that it is today, he will be remembered always for his leadership during the bloodiest period in Quinntonian history, the Three years War. But he will also be remembered for the great achievements that he brought to our nation. This includes the Missile Defence Shield, the founding of both WEC and NATO as defensive measures, the strengthening of our ties with many members of the European community, as well as finally improving our foreign relations to the point that we now have great friendship in South-East Asia, which includes a strategic alliance with Japan. The legacies of his achievements are so great that those that will come after for decades to come will reap the groundwork that he laid. He crafted a Quinntonia that is stronger and more able to stand for Jesus Christ and freedom in the world than every before. His international reputation was such that kings, emperors, presidents and prime ministers came and kneeled by his bed to pay their respects. Even the infamous Director Hotan travelled from his exile in Spyr to meet with, and they had a private audience for several minutes today. He followed God, and we knew that he did, and thus followed him. He was a great man. One of the greatest.

One of his great legacies was a project that was begun with the Mexican political and religious leaders almost a decade ago. He was laying the groundwork for what he hoped would be the peaceful union of our two nations into a single, God-fearing state. This, he hoped would bring to bear the vast economic and social resources at Quinntonian disposal on the rampant problems in Quinntonia’s southern neighbour and by far most popular mission field. Various Christian leaders in Mexico and President Quesada himself have taken this up. We have worked long and hard to come to the people with this proposal. This is Jesse Obed’s legacy. This is his greatest wish, and I will now read a statement that was prepared by him only three weeks ago,

My fellow Quinntonians, I am now speaking to you of a few things from beyond the grave. First, I want to thank you for all of your support over the years, I have been blessed with the best job in the world. I get to lead the greatest nation on earth. Before I begin, I want to ask you for what I see as our nation’s vision for the future, as I have seen in, over these last twenty some years. First, Hudecia/Canada is our greatest ally, and we should always protect her. Roycelandia is equally important, and our historic friendship should be a top priority for any that follow. The British Federation is also very important, and we should fight to protect her as we did in WWI and II. Hindustan is our greatest friend in the Progressive Bloc, and that should be maintained as well. Japan has become our most important ally after ROK in South-East Asia, and I hope that we work at improving that relationship, as it represents the future of Quinntonia. China presents us with a great opportunity to promote peace and freedom in that region, and we should pursue friendship with them with great amounts of prayer. Strathdonia is also a great friend to Quinntonia and should be treated as such if they should ever call. The Holy League represents a great challenge, and where the cause of justice and Christ is forwarded, we should stand side by side with them, where it is trampled, we should stand against them. AS for the Beth Gellert, they should always be watched, as unpredictable and prone to rash decisions as they are, as well as the rest of the Progressive Bloc, though most of them the rest are far more reasonable. As for ROK, it is the Quinntonian responsibility to defend those people with our lives, and that is all we can do. That, and Quinntonia Dra-pol should be the focus of our foreign policy as we go forth into the 21st Century, to protect those innocent people from Dra-pol. I have seen the face of evil, and its name is Dra-pol.
As you must already know, I have been in talks with the government of the great nation of Mexico. They have finally agreed that what is best for the future of both nations is a great unification that will be implemented in gradual stages, over the next ten years. This will see our economic prosperity rise to unprecedented levels, after an initial evening out period, and will also provide us with great defensive advantages that will become apperent over time. At first, both nations will retain their sovereignty, but will begin the process of becoming one body, with eventual control placed in the hands of a unified Parliament and the Council of Bishops. AS a show of good faith on our part, we are now going to allow Mexican Bishops enter the Council of Bishops, with a one third vote, giving them considerable voice in our nation. This will rise in importance after the election that will be called, to one vote for every two Bishops, and in three years time, there will be a one for one vote ratio, allowing Mexico control of one fifth of the Council. How this will be implemented will be thus; an election will be called immediately, and attached to that election will be a Quinntonian referendum asking the people their will in this matter. This will have a similar counter-part in Mexico, the referendum at least. If a majority of both Mexicans and Quinntonians want to see a unified state rise out of these two disparate states, then it will take place, beginning with the process that has been detailed by our governments. However, no matter what, Mexican Bishops will now have the first grade of influence in The Council, representing our high esteem for them. I suggest there be two major issues in the upcoming election, and the ever-present threat of Dra-pol, Quinntonian-Mexican unification.
Thank you, Your Servant in Christ, Jesse.


There were tears in everyone’s eyes as the letter was read, and at many points, Vanessa Moerike was so overcome with emotion that she could not continue reading, needing a few moments to compose herself. At the end of the letter, she declared an election immediately, with 60 days to the election date, and President Vicente FOX Quesada declared the same thing for Mexico, not the election, but rather the referendum. Vanessa Moerike then left the podium, yielding to Bishop Robert Schultz. He began, “In a closed meeting of the Council of Bishops today, we have made our final vote about the Mexico issue, and I feel that you should all know the results. There was a 93% majority asking for Mexican unification and the acceptance of the Mexican Bishops. The Mexican Bishops were then asked to vote, and they voted 97% in favour. With this, you will most likely be hearing a lot about this issue in the next 60 days, the Council has officially declared this issue aidiophera. That means it is neither upheld nor condemned by Scripture. This is not a matter of faith, but of conscience, I am asking that Pastors and Priests across the nation keep their pulpits reserved for the preaching of the Gospel on this issue, and let the people decide, though it is Pastor’s prerogative if they wish to do so. This is Jesse Obed’s greatest legacy, and I venture that since the Quinntonian Revolution and up to WWI and II and the Dra-poel conflict, this will be the most drastically important thing to happen to Quinntonia ever. Please consider your consciences before you vote. Thank you.”

Then Bishop Gerald Westgaard goes to the podium, “I also have an announcement to make, though Puerto Rico and Quinntonian Dra-pol are protectorates, and they don’t normally have as many privileges, in this referendum and election, they will be accorded full voting status, and may enter the polls when the campaign is over, just like any other Quinntonian citizen. They will also retain these rights and be recognised from this day forth as Quinntonian citizens in full! Thank you.”


Vicente FOX Quesada steps forward and says simply, “I should say that I am very pleased with this vote and hope that it is successful, and will do everything in my moral power to make it so. The Mexican referendum will take place a full ten days before the Quinntonia election, allowing Quinntonians time to consider their response before they go to the polls. I hope and pray to God Jesus that in two months time, I will be on my way to becoming both citizen of Mexico, and of Quinntonia!”



QNN News


WWJD
Amen.

...the greatest nation on earth.

Damn right! *pumps fist* And, Quinnt, do you mind if I do a little afterlife bit? I feel like I might be overdoing it, so I'll ask your permission...

Damn right! *pumps fist* And, Quinnt, do you mind if I do a little afterlife bit? I feel like I might be overdoing it, so I'll ask your permission...
I think that we can leave it at that. And just FYI, it is only in the fantasy world of AMW that Quinntonia, not USA is the greatest nation on earth. If it were in RL, we all know that it would be the one with the best hockey program, it is the only civilised way to decide.

WWJD
Amen.

I think that we can leave it at that. And just FYI, it is only in the fantasy world of AMW that Quinntonia, not USA is the greatest nation on earth. If it were in RL, we all know that it would be the one with the best hockey program, it is the only civilised way to decide.

WWJD
Amen.

Okeh. And hockey? What's that? I vaguely recall hearing some rumors about hairy wild men in the North sliding around the ice holding sticks and beating some round black thing around, but we all know that can't be true. Surely even Canadians are civillized enough to settle things with rodeos, country music contests, and [American] football! :p

Heh, let me guess, besides making the US far more religious than in RL and making it Parliamentary, the other main difference is that people have an irrational love of hockey? :D

Okeh. And hockey? What's that? I vaguely recall hearing some rumors about hairy wild men in the North sliding around the ice holding sticks and beating some round black thing around, but we all know that can't be true. Surely even Canadians are civillized enough to settle things with rodeos, country music contests, and [American] football! :p

Heh, let me guess, besides making the US far more religious than in RL and making it Parliamentary, the other main difference is that people have an irrational love of hockey? :D

Irrational! Why I ought to!

Don't you live in California, LA has a professioal hockey team, the Kings. Wayne Gretzkey playeed there for years and years. Same with Kelley Hrudey. Winningest goalie to never win a Stanley Cup. They went to the Stanley Cup final that year, game 7. But they lost.

Also, I live right close to the Calgary Stampede, which is one of the largest rodoe events in North America. And as for American football, 4 donws instead of three and only 100 yrads instead of 120? My grandmother could get a touchdown that way. Let's not forget Doug Flutie.

And FYI, basketball was invented by a Canadian, and the NBA MVP was a Canadian last year. Consodering you Americans outnumber us 10 to 1, I'de say that is pretty good.

You see, we Canadians have aplan, we are going to slowly desseminate out culture into teh States until you are conquered by us. We have been doing it for years. We send our mosttalented actors and comedians, and you all worship them.
Mike Meyers, Lorne Green, Martin Short, Dan Akroyd, Micheal J. Fox, William Shatner, Jim Carrey, Tom Green, even Micheal Douglas is the grandson of Tommie Douglas, Baptist preacher from Saskatchewan who started universal healthcare. The list just goes on an on.
Even the musicians, Barenaked Ladies, Avril Lavigne, Sum 41, Nickelback.

At night, on a clear evening, you can almost hear them across the northern border, they are preparing teh invasion, they are coming, and they are sharpening their skates.

WWJD
Amen.

Bump for Quinntonian.
Tsar Wingert the Great.

The Quinntonian election.


There are a few parties that deserve mention right off the bat.

The Christian Heritage Party (CHP)

Jesse Obed’s old party and the current ruling one. Jesse Obed founded the movement and led it to victory in1974, leading it to landslide victories for almost three decades. This was the first party in Quinntonian history that was elected without the backing of any of the major denominations, being Inter-Denominational, though Jesse Obed’s strong Lutheran faith did quiet the fears of the majority Lutherans of an Evangelical apostasy.

They believe in defending ROK and Quinntonian Dra-pol at all costs, and to this end supported and constructed the military bases in ROK and the Westgaard Wall, as well as presided over the Three Years War. They founded international objectives such as NATO and WEC as defensive measures, and have also signed military and trade alliances with Japan. They believe that the massive Missile Defence Shield is totally justifiable and are willing to engage in major international conflicts if it is deemed necessary. Their administration has seen a 300% rise in military spending, even exceeding Cold War levels now.

Seen as very militant, but with a can-do attitude that can get things done. Their mission statements stay away from theology, especially sacramental issues or church hierarchical issues, which they recognise as not being within their sphere. Many feel that they would not have survived this long as a party without their legendary founder, Jesse Obed, and wonder if a post-Obed CHP has anything of substance to offer. Current Prime Minister hand-picked by Jesse Obed, Deacon Vanessa Moerike, (DCE) LCMS Lutheran.

United Lutherans Party (ULP)

The old majority party prior to the CHP, has won 85% of all elections in Quinntonian history up to 1974, and given the reported 60% Lutheran population of Quinntonia, always has lots of support to offer. Is the current official opposition.

This party stands for a more insular approach to world affairs, with a pragmatic world-view. A focus on missionary efforts rather than political and military ones would be there hallmark. They approve of the defence of ROK and Quinntonian Dra-pol, but would see Quinntonia pull back their commitments elsewhere by 15% in ten years. They are worried about the integration of Mexico into the Quinntonian nation, wondering what all of those Catholic voters will do to the balance of power in Quinntonia.

Their doctrinal position is completely a Lutheran Confessional one, and they would work to ensure that this position is given primacy. Their candidate is Dr. Rev. Garry Dombrosky.

Holy Catholic League (HCP)

Has traditionally been the official opposition, but since 1974 has been forced to marginal status, fighting over the title of opposition with the ULP. Representing the second largest single denominational group, it is sometimes seen as a lackey to the Vatican, but after the ULP, has formed more governments than anyone else before 1974. Would very much like to see more public cooperation with the Holy League, especially France, though that is seen as being the position of the leadership more than the party at large.

They are very hopeful about the introduction of Mexico to the voting pool and believe that the long-term benefits of such a large infusion of Catholic voters would be beneficial for the party. They believe in even more international involvement, perhaps reflecting their very Catholic view of a “universal” church and perhaps theocratic government. They wish to commit heavily in Africa and Europe, in addition to the commitments in South East Asia and propose asking the HL to join NATO.

Their doctrinal one is completely Roman Catholic and their candidate in Cardinal Joseph Humphries.

The Quinntonian Evangelical Party (QEP)

This is a newcomer to Quinntonian politics, representing the new movement of Quinntonian evangelicals. This is a party the is not so much Inter-Denomination, as Non-Denominational, or a league of many independent or small church movements and ministries, all of which share certain Evangelical religious beliefs. They believe in staying the course in regards to foreign policy though “Christianity must be defended,” and wish that the nation of Israel be brought into the Quinntonia fold. They are very conservative in regards to their moral stance, and very vocal as well. They do not wish Mexico to be allowed into the Quinntonian Union, and would propose more nuclear proliferation. They wish that all ties to both the Progressive States and to the Holy League ones be cut, seeing one as atheist and the other as Catholic. Catholicism is regarded as intrinsically evil, with Lutheranism being seen as somehow too close to Catholicism.

Their doctrinal position is one of Evangelicalism and their candidate is the Rev. Jerry Falwell, ex- President of the Southern Baptist Community.

Fringe Groups include:
The Christian Marxist Party-See Jesus as the first Socialist, wish to see an abolition of church hierarchy and property.
The Fundamentalist Evangelical Party-Will go to all out war with all nations that do not accept Jesus Christ as Lord and would see their election as bringing on the end times, with their faithful “remnant” having to fight against the “great tribulation.”
The Atheist Party-‘Nuff Said.
The Followers of Jesus Party-A Union of religions that do not fit the Christian mould but claim to be followers of the same Jesus, in one way or another, includes. Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, and even Muslims.




It should be noted here, that the Mexican referendum was a great success, with 85% of all of those who voted, expressing their desire to become part of the Quinntonian nation.

It goes without saying that Mumbai will not support the Holy Catholic League, since Quinntonian approaches to France with regards to Africa are seen as bad enough as it is. The last thing the free peoples of the world need, Unioners say, is a Holy League-affiliated Quinntonia. Just paint the earth in the Fleur-de-Lys, why don't you, would be their perception of an HCL victory.

Mumbai is mostly inclined to support the Christian Heritage Party, since relations between that party and Mumbai have always been fairly friendly. Many Indians, though, are thoroughly disgusted that any nation calling itself moral would have anything to do with the "utterly immoral and murderous" French.

The Japanese government would love to see the CHP re-elected, as it has had excellent relations with Quinntonia under them. That being said, the HCP would be welcomed as well, although perhaps less enthusiastically.

Should the QEP somehow win, the government has privately stated that they would rather go it alone internationally than have any ties to a raving lunatic, especially one who would probably denounce Shinseiki Tenno as a moral deviant (which would probably result in Aikoku Toko calling for the Japanese people to arm for war, but that's another story).

Wow, I never thought of the QEP as being "a raving lunatic." They perhaps represent the logical conclusion to the Evangelical community in teh USA. I eman, I have been playing a largely Lutheran theology and doctrine, and on many pionts we agree with that community, but perhaps it in the application of those pionts that we differ?

Just laying out the options. Now, The Fundamentalist Evangelical Party, there are some raving lunatics.

Yeah, the QEP are a result of a question I posed to myself, "If the Evangelocals are exploding in growth in teh USA in RL, what would that movement look like in a Quinntonian Theocracy?"

Keep the comments coming.

WWJD
Amen.

Wow, I never thought of the QEP as being "a raving lunatic." They perhaps represent the logical conclusion to the Evangelical community in teh USA. I eman, I have been playing a largely Lutheran theology and doctrine, and on many pionts we agree with that community, but perhaps it in the application of those pionts that we differ?

Just laying out the options. Now, The Fundamentalist Evangelical Party, there are some raving lunatics.

Yeah, the QEP are a result of a question I posed to myself, "If the Evangelocals are exploding in growth in teh USA in RL, what would that movement look like in a Quinntonian Theocracy?"

Keep the comments coming.

WWJD
Amen.


(OOC: If Falwell in AMW is anything like Falwell in RL, then the JRP would not be impressed if he won. Aikoku Toko would probably paint him in the style of President Ahmadinejad of Iran and call for all-out war, but the JRP would at least try to get along with him until he said the wrong thing.)

The Roycelandian Government, being totally secular (and largely atheist), is having trouble forming any sort of opinion on the Quinntonian Elections.

As such, none of the Political Parties could be considered to have Roycelandian "support", for want of a better word, although enquiries are made into the existence of an Unaffiliated or Agnostic Party- ie, people who aren't Atheists, but don't really buy into the whole "Organised Religion" thing...

The Strathdonias liekly don't have any particularly strong opinions about any party bar the HCP, but then again they wouldn't have too many problems with them as long as they weren't going do any of the weird thigns the european catholics have done (like reinstall monarchies). Probabaly Strathdonia is likely one of the few nations who would voice any strong support for the QEP, yes many Strathdonians consider Quintonian Evangelicals as a bit... odd (a bit too happy clappy for the more dour presbeterians) but if they are promising to stand up for christianity then they might help Strathdonia particularly if they have a strong anti HL streak, of course the whole anti progressive block thing could go bad, but if they could get along with the INU things would be grand.

The Andamans and Nicobars have little time to consider Quinntonian elections, but it goes almost without saying that both Royalist and Brownite factions would keenly support any party that looked likely to help their cause in any way. The islands, which are home also to large Muslim and Hindu populations amongst others, including totally unknown and ignored native beliefs right out of the stone age, have been dominated at the upper levels of society by the legacy of the Indio-Geletian Principality, which rather saw the Church of England as its mother and spent a generation trying to emulate it despite popular hostility to the whole idea.

During the last seventeen years, at various times, different factions and forces had tried in the islands to invite the interest of different Christian groups, and now it was hard even to say whether the first of three stars on the national flag (the second and third representing Islam and Hinduism) was Protestant or Catholic, which suddenly was a problem as Brown and the Royalists struggled to win support in Europe and the Americas. Both sides were ready to bash the other with a crucifix, only neither could decide whether its hand should be raised with a wooden cross or one of jewel-encrusted gold.

Brown's still nominally in control government was the side best able to express very general best wishes to the Quinntonian nation, and good hunting in a sporting election.

Beijing would keenly support the CHP and the ULP and will be happy if either are elected. If the HCP were elected however, Sino-American relations may be soured, as Emperor Zhang's attitude towards the Vatican has cooled considerably since the installment of monarchies in Europe. Like the former Communist Party, the leadership worries about the threat of extremist Catholics in China support by a militant Holy League.

The Austrian gives it support to CHP and wishes them the best of luck, also extensive funding is avaliable for the CHP in several accounts which can be accessed via the Cayman Islands.

The Strainist Party has little to say about Quinntonian political parties... ideological differences and diplomatic sense both indicate that endorsements might prove more harmful than beneficial. It is, however, apparent to all that the Strainists would see an HCP victory as potentially disastrous... its one thing to have a preachy neighbour across the Pacific, quite different to have one aligned with the cabal of faux-Christian despots that makes up the Holy League.

The Steering Committee of the Holy Catholic League, the HCP, recieves an invitation to attend a pilgrimage with the Royal Family en masse to the Cathedral of Lourdes.

Needless to say, His Most Christian Majesty Louis-Auguste is ecstatic about the growing Catholic movement in Quinntonia, and sees and union with staunchly Catholic Mexico with its Protestant neighbor as nothing less than an act of God.

This is not to say that Versailles would take any chances. Obed had been good to France, and King Louis-Auguste would not openly endorse the HCP for fear of eventual, in the case of their defeat certain, reprisals. Nevertheless, HCP members would get a royal welcome in France, and pray the Magnificat with Queen Jillesepone herself in a shrine blessed by the Holy Virgin.

I will be posting a major replay to this thread, with the first address of the new national leader. This will most likely outline the new governments positions in a lot of the issues that have cropped up since I have been inactive.
WWJD
Amen.

The terms of the elections are announced.

QNN
“Good evening and God Bless. Now our final report on our continuing coverage of the Quinntonian elections; which is made all the more important by the international situations that are cropping up all over the world. It seems that we will have a minority government!”

The Christian Heritage Party, with its leader, Deaconess Vanessa Moerike (DCE) is being now asked by the Council of Bishops to form a new government. This will mark her as the first woman elected Prime Minister in the history of Quinntonia!

The results are:
CHP-37% seats
ULP-30% seats
HCP-18% seats
QEP-15% seats

There was a very high amount of voter turnout, with over 88% of the Quinntonian population coming out to vote, especially with the referendum that was proposed in regards to Mexican integration. Quinntonians have decided to open their hearts and their borders to our Mexican brothers and sisters with an overwhelming response. 92% of those that have voted believe that Mexican integration is the right thing to do. This comes on the heels, of course, of the massive display by the nation of Mexico in regards to their desire to come into the Quinntonian fold.

We would never wish to impose anything on any other nation that was the not the free choice of that people, and since the Mexican religious leaders, Bishops, Government and people have all voted their desire to become Quinntonian, we have no choice but to honour their wishes.


Vanessa Moerike will now be our new Prime Minister, forming a minority government. What will make this interesting for political observers, is that now PM Vanessa Moerike has a choice between each of the major parties to form a coalition with. Who she does so, will effect the position that this new and fragile government takes on many of the major issues thus far.

WWJD
Amen.

For the most part, Yugoslav interest in Quinntonian election happenings is quite low, and even the movement of Mexico toward the US is of quite minor concern to Belgrade, especially with the distraction of war at home and the government's desire to avoid talking much about elections since the Prime Ministerial position remains unfilled in Yugoslavia. The Mexican issue now worries a few in the Socialist Federal Republic, as nobody really knows whether the Holy League holds any appeal on some level to the substantial Catholic populace that could be brought into the United States' decision-making process.

Larionko Aidarov does take a few minutes one evening, after shuffling wearily out of the war rooms, to pen a note of congratulation to Moerike expressing hopes for continued prosperity and peaceful Yugo-Quinntonian relations.

Sova 15 is thought to have censored some questions from the SFRY about Mexican voters and their say in the first US government under which they'd live, regarding their involvement in the election process this time around and the time they must wait after integration until the next ballot. This is since it is not thought to be in the Federation's best interests to see Catholic interests heavily represented in coming months.

Deacon Vanessa Moerike, now Prime Minister of Quinntonia by election, had spent quite a lot of the previous night in conference calls with the fellow party leaders. She was not in the safest position, but she was in a position of power. Each party wanted power in a major way, and were willing to promise here a great deal to get it. She discussed what her opinions on the foreign situations were, and what theirs were. She had consulted with her advisors and analysts, and had spent a great deal of time in prayer.

She now looked at herself in the mirror as she prepared to address the people in her first Prime Minister’s address from the Oval Office. Her speechwriter had worked with her all night, and though she had had very little slip, she felt ready. She was sure that she was making the right decisions.

The QEP were gaining popularity, and she felt that perhaps they might be the wave of the future in the political landscape of Quinntonia. Nevertheless, Rev. Falwell was sometimes a political liability, and his religious views placed him at odds with the influx of Catholics coming from Mexico, not to mention the 45 million that already resided in Quinntonia. The HCL had become very popular as people almost started to vote in anticipation of the Mexican influx, perhaps hoping that they would best be able to understand the needs of the new members of Quinntonia. But they had advocated closer relationships with the Holy League, based upon their Catholic views, and with the invasions in Europe and international opinion turning more and more against the HL at every turn; she would be remiss to choose them. That left the Lutherans, the ULP. They had been very used to having power, and had been the most willing to compromise to get it back. However, they were insistent on a few concessions, like their view that Quinntonia needed to pull back from being so involved in every international conflict. They did, however, understand the importance of right now, and what needed to be done. That meant that Vanessa Moerike, Prime Minister, would form a coalition government with the ULP, asking Dr. Rev. Garry Dombrosky to be her Deputy Prime Minister.

She had already given the necessary orders to get what she needed done completed. All over Quinntonia and beyond, people were scurrying to follow them, and time was of the essence. She did hope that this was one more time that Quinntonia prepared for things that will not happen, but she did need to demonstrate the resolve to push back if pushed.

She rose, crossed herself, and said a silent prayer as she began to walk towards her desk in the Oval Office.


WWJD
Amen.

Prime Minister Minase takes some time out from the Wellington conference to make a congratulatory phone call to Deacon Moerike, expressing his confidence in her abilities and issuing an open invitation for her to visit him in Japan any time she wished.

Although the Imperial Household is not supposed to involve itself in politics, domestic or international, Emperor Shinseiki also sends a message of congratulations to Moerike, stating that he is sure that Quinntonia's first female Prime Minister will be remembered as an excellent leader.

Vanessa Moerike took her seat at her desk and stared into the camera, checking the angle of the teleprompter, wearing a muted blue skirt suit with an attractive Trinity Symbol broach and a yellow ribbon pinned to her lapel.
She saw her stage director counting off and as he reached the time and that red light cam on, she couldn’t help but nearly crying under all of the pressure.
With all of Quinntonia watching her, she bit her bottom lip, choked back the tears, and began, “My fellow Quinntonians…”

I am speaking to you tonight to prepare you for what is already a momentous time in Quinntonian and world history. All over the world, conflict is brewing. Quinntonia must stand ready to fight if the time comes for it, and fight we shall.

I am going to outline some of the international issues that we must take a stand on. First and foremost is the Holy League and their imperialistic reign of terror. *she stops to take a drink of water* My Security Chiefs of Staff and my Minister of Defence, Rebekah Klages, have reviewed the Pentagons and the CIA’s findings very thoroughly and have come to some very important decisions.

The attacks on the peaceful West African nations by Algerian and French troops are immoral and illegal. Also, the campaigns of Iberian unification are also immoral and illegal. The peoples of Portugal and Gibraltar must be protected from the ravening wolves that threaten to devour them wearing the Lambs clothing. And it has fallen upon the great nations of Britain and Australasia to do so. In this matter, Quinntonia is simply unable to take an active part in the opening of conflicts but will take a stance of benevolent neutrality. What that essentially means is that this government will provide all of the supplies and armaments that is necessary for Britain and Australasia to fight their war, at a heavily subsidised cost. Also, I have ordered the commanders of the Second Fleet to provide any and all protection necessary to supply ships, who will all be flying Quinntonian colours, to ferry supplies into Britain. Furthermore, the naval base at Norfolk, Virginia is currently being stockpiled with extra materials and supplies that will allow it to be used as a friendly port for Australasian ships that are in need to refit, repair or refuel. While in Quinntonian waters these ships will be escorted by the Quinntonian Coast Guard and be considered to be under Quinntonian protection. Now I speak to the Holy League leaders, whom I regard as honourable men, if any of the ships that I have mentioned come under attack by Holy League forces of any kind, my government will consider it an act of war from which there is no return.

My government also has considered the situation with the Yugoslavian invasion of Austria. The last Austrian census showed that over 90% of the nation was Christian, with over 85% Roman Catholic. The completely unprovoked and illegal nature of this invasion cannot be ignored. And Quinntonia would not like to see any of their Christian brothers to be left out in the cold, as it would hope for others to come to its aid in time of need. However, with the international climate as it is, I am unwilling to alienate our other allies by rushing to your defence. You are being judged by the company that you keep, and your association with the Holy League, though not justifying the situation that you are in, is causing it with the tyrant Lav using that as the thinnest pretext for satisfying his power-mad territorial ambitions. I am prepared to offer you this on behalf of the Quinntonia people; I have dispatched a very sizable aerial contingent and force of Marines to our base in Ramstien, Germany. The Quinntonia people are willing to put our young men and women into harm’s way so that we can defend you from this vicious attack. But you must do one thing. You must publicly announce a complete withdrawal from the Holy League. If your membership is withdrawn from that organisation, then Quinntonia will move mountains to defend you. If not, you may have to trust in the Christian character of your allies.

There is the issue of our NATO allies, Roycelandia and Canada. Quinntonia will live up to its obligations, just as we would hope that you would. That being said, we must address two issues. First, and most importantly, our friend and ally, Mother Britain; you gave us life, though a violent one, and we have in many ways been defined by you. And your new government has chosen to leave NATO. I cannot say that I understand the reasons. But NATO was negotiated under a very different government and in a very different time. I would like to invite you to come back to the table and allow the greatest defensive alliance on earth to be reborn; our strength is in our unity. Jesse Obed saw NATO as a way to ensure peace, and so do I.
But there is a second issue to discuss. Right now, our NATO ally Roycelandia is being threatened by the atheist nation Beth Gellert. There is massive “Peoples Army” that has formed and taken positions around the Roycelandian territory on the Indian Sub-Continent known as Goa. This has been a Roycelandian holding for more than four centuries, and has a population of almost half a million people, including military personnel. The ordinary citizens of that place have armed themselves and have prepared to defend themselves against another unprovoked and genocidal war of extermination. The people of Beth Gellert hate the Goans because they choose to live in a way that is different from them. They hate them because the Goans do not agree with their extremist politics. And they feel that they are in the right to use force to MAKE the Goans agree, giving them a dark choice, “Agree with us, or die!” The Beddlegellans purport to be for the people, but when a foreign army started massing at their borders, more than 300,000 ordinary Goans armed themselves for battle. The people of Beth Gellert seem to be saying, “The people should be able to choose how they live, but only if they agree with us.” They did not ask for a vote, or a debate, they did not ask for an embassy or even staged a peaceful demonstration of any sort, but started digging trenches and pulling up artillery cannons. My Quinntonian brothers and sisters, our NATO obligations, and our moral obligations demand that we stand against such tyranny. Whether it is tyranny of the one or tyranny of the many. I draw a line in the sand today, the United States of Quinntonia will defend the peaceful Goans to our last.

In Andaman and Nicobar, the previously stable government has completely fallen apart, and from our military base there, we have been attempting to coordinate massive humanitarian programs. Right now Britain and Beth Gellert are negotiating as to what should happen to stabilise the region. They are proposing a cooperative administration between them, ignoring the Quinntonian presence. I find it difficult to believe that an ultra-capitalist nation would welcome Soviets into their nation so quickly, so at this juncture, we must ask for further negotiation in this matter, with Quinntonia being asked to the table.

In the Philippines, which have been a hotbed of international activity, a peace accord is nearing completion. Every interested entity has agreed to it, from the legitimate government to every international group. The stumbling block is the NPA, a Communist terrorist group funded by Beth Gellert. Quinntonia would very much like to work towards a peaceful arrangement in that region, and pray that Beth Gellert and the NPA would sit down and sign onto this agreement, taking part in the process of government they claim to hold so dear.

Quinntonia would also like to invite the administrations of the following nations to a Summit meeting in Washington, D.C. (Domini Christi) to discuss all of these issues and more. The nations that I would like to invite are, Japan, Roycelandia, China, Australasia, and Beth Gellert.

Now to what I preparing at home. The second phase of our missile defence shield has come online as of a week ago. This will supplement our already state of the art satellite and anti-missile missile systems with even more batteries set up all over the country and doubling the amount of satellites that are integrated into the system. This will make the system, which is already the only one of its kind in the world, 30% more efficient and even faster. I am also pleased to announce that the shield will be extending around Mexico as per their wishes.

Quinntonia is preparing to go to war footing in its economy should the need arise. We have been preparing for possible conflict for months now, and I am ordering that all active phase one reserves be put on highest alert. This will allow us to mobilise our entire active reserve force within five days of the order, with 30% of them ready in 48 hours.
Some of the newspapers in the west have begun to call this conflict WW3, and I want to assure the Quinntonian people, that if this turns out to be the case, we will be ready, and we will be victorious. Given that situation, I am ordering that all decommissioned vessels for the navy be readied for action and crewed in case the need should arise and the vessels that are under construction should be finished with all possible haste. That being said, the new CVN-21 Supercarrier has been launched to join the Carrier Battle Group Luke as part of the Seventh Fleet, and will be the new pride of the Navy. It will be dubbed in the tradition of the Nimitz Carriers after a great Prime Minister, in this case, the Jesse Obed, which will also be the name of its class.

We are staring down some of what could be the most terrible times in human history, but we will stare them down together, and with the help of our Lord Jesus Christ. I declare tomorrow to be a National Day of Prayer. Church bells will be rung from 8am to 8pm calling us to prayer. Please pray for the sake of our great nation, the sake of the world, the guidance of Christ, and for your government, that we may make God-pleasing decisions. Good night, and God Bless.


With that, the Oval Office signs off.


WWJD
Amen.

Roycelandia has indicated that they will attend the Washington Conference (which will presumably occur a couple of days after the Wellington one, so His Majesty has time to get some rest!)

Minister of Finance Li Mei Chen and Emperor Zhang himself will personally attend the conference in Washington on behalf of the Republic of China.

BTW, this is some of my military numbers up on the invision board

http://s9.invisionfree.com/NS_Modern_World/index.php?showtopic=5&st=45

Feel free to check it out.

WWJD
Amen.

Mumbai has become rather frustrated with Quinntonia as of late, due in no small part to what Parliament sees as a pigheaded stance on the issue of Goa. Union diplomats are quick to point out that Roycelandia has allowed France to invade Mali across its ill-begotten portion of Algeria, expediating the likely fall of ECOWAS and its enslavement under the 'Holy' League whip. They also harp on Royce's belligerence at the Wellington conference, and his thinly-veiled threats made against the anti-League powers. For Mumbai to do anything to dissuade the Bedgellens from attacking Goa, Washington will have to pressure the Roycelandians to reduce their aid to the League and close southern Algeria to French forces.

Unioners also continue to be baffled by Quinntonian logic, as Beth Gellert is now more than ever categorized as a great evil that it most certainly isn't. If the Quinntonians are so concerned with justice and the like, many Unioners say, why don't they let Beth Gellert take what rightfully belongs to it?

After several months in which nerves ran raw and hot heads prevailed in a climate of icy international relations, Walmington greets the coming of stability and new leadership across the Atlantic as perhaps over due.

Mainwaring's railing against NATO came as Roycelandian strategic bombers were painted with French imperial roundels and the Holy League's meddling caused a massive surge in revolutionary sentiment amongst peoples with whose nations Walmington would quite like to do business. Though they are even less blunt about it, the British government finds itself in some agreement with the Indians in some respects. The Soviets and their actions are less cause and more symptom, and are regarded as only a foretaste of what may come from continued recklessness in the west: London can see a future with communists and Islamists swarming across Asia and Africa, consuming Malaysia and threatening the INU and Australasia, and feels that one or the other -communists/Islamists- may be blamed, but that both are stirred speaks more of pressure from without.

The League, with Roycelandia's less than tactful association, is scaring people who may not want to be shoved at gunpoint into a church or a marketplace, even those who may not have made-up their minds against such places. For every action...


Still, London is happy to congratulate the new Quinntonian government, and to hope for a general warming of relations, in spite of major stumbling blocks, particularly in the Caribbean...

Prime Minister Minase and Foreign Minister Shimizu will travel to Washington as soon as possible to represent Japan at the proposed conference.

Jonathan Zhang touches down in Washington in a time where relations with the US are "at the lowest since Liu" according to a major newspaper in Hong Kong with foreign policy a big area of contention - support of Roycelandia, turning the Chinese fleet back from the Panama as they sailed towards Britain.

Still, much of the Chinese government had a favourable view of Quintonnia as a force for stability, and perhaps a way of preventing WW3. Beijing was still very keen on formalising the three-way military alliance between Japan, China, and Quintonnia.

(realise I misread the post earlier)

As he had been when Jesse Obed lay dying, Prime Minister Strathairn was simply too busy to make the conference. He sent his apologies, and a representative in the form of Foreign Minister Rt. Hon. Christina Lloyd. As she made her way off of the Australasia Three, the RA-700 jet designated as the official diplomatic aircraft of the Free Colony, said Minister felt as though she had been hit with a wall of hot, humid air that permeated Washington D.C. in the summer. Miserable weather, although not altogether different from the northern part of Australia. Shucking off the overcoat as soon as she was able and tucking it under her arm, she made her way down the jetway, followed by two bodyguards and a gaggle of diplomats.

Austral-Quinntonian relations seemed to be rather warmer than those of its nearest allies, but Strathairn's government still held the traditional skepticism of theocratic nations. Truth to be told, Australasia agreed more or less with the Quinntonian policy towards the Goa. As a product of Imperialism, with closely guarded (and never publicised) Imperialist ambitions itself, Australasia was hardly in a position to rebuke Roycelandia for its activities. Further, Strathairn knew that if Australasian forces so much as twitched towards conquest rather than 'liberation', the haughty and rather predictable Bedgellans would do their level best to keep it from happening.

Prime Minister Minase and Foreign Minister Shimizufrom Japan as well as Jonathan Zhang from China and the Rt. Hon. Christina Lloyd from Australasia were greeted with fanfare and trumpets as the Quinntonian people turned out en masse to greet what they hoped would be the harbingers of a new peace in a time of war. It was very much hoped that Walmington would deign to send a representative and Royce I was expected any day now.
In the meantime, the delegates were given the finest treatment and the Prime Minister and the Emperor were given rooms in the White House for the duration of their stay, with the PM from Japan receiving the vaunted, Lincoln bedroom.

WWJD
Amen.

Upon laying down in her rather nice bed in the diplomatic quarters of Washington, Christina started to drift off. For all her experience travelling, the jet-lag from Raleigh to Washington was ferocious. She kicked off her heels and fumbled for the bedside light when her cellular started to beep and twitter in that obnoxious way it had.

"Lloyd," she snapped. It was late, too late to be dealing with this right now. Almost midnight, after hours and hours in the air. Goddamn it. Who was calling her now?

"Christina, it's me." Strathairn sounded tired, oddly broken. She was unnerved. For all his occasional theatrics and love of the trappings of Empire, the Prime Minister was one of the strongest, most reliable men she knew. To hear him like this... "They hit Buenos Aires with fourteen ICBMs a few minutes ago. Nobody knows how many are dead, but early estimates are in the thousands. Maybe as many as ten, fifteen." She gasped, instantly awake.

"The French?" Strathairn didn't say anything, but she didn't need him to. Who else? "Where from, Brittany? Gascogne?"

"French Guyana. And they're blaming it on terrorists from Australasia. This could be bad, Chris." She could hear him breathing, in short gasps.

"Hey, calm down. Nobody's going to believe that story, who would? If it's the choice between Louis-Auguste and you, well, who's known for dropping napalm on civilians?"

"I guess you're right. Talk to Emperor Royce, would you? See how the French got through his patrols. And then talk to the delegates. See what you can do about the allies situation." He sighed, audibly. "And come back soon. I-- we need you back here." He hung up, then. And Christina didn't sleep that night. She stood on the balcony, staring down at the Washington Mall. The lights of the city, familiar but never home, twinkled coldly. She smelled cigar smoke, and nearly cried.

She missed Raleigh.

OOC: Sentimental crap! YAY!

"It's very nice, I must say."

Shimizu snorted at Minase's assessment of his accomodation. "You're joking, right? Of course it's nice! This is the bedroom to have, I mean it's haunted. Apparently. You might get a Lincoln sighting, you never know."

Minase laughed him off. "There's no such thing as ghosts. The Ringists tried that one, and we ultimately proved them wrong. Still.....it could provide a nice anecdote. Shinseiki does love weird stories, after all. Anyway, why aren't you in bed? It's getting rather late."

"We just heard about an ICBM launch against Buenos Aires, looking at thousands of casualties. Of course the French are blaiming it on others, which means they're guilty as sin."

Minase's shoulders sank as he let out a long sigh. "War draws ever closer. Thankfully we have something of an ace up our sleeve. If we need him, we have a capable war leader at home. He holds victories against Myanmar, Bonstock and the Ringist Shogunate.....just as well the Constitution gives him emergency decree powers in times of national crisis. Shinseiki Tenno can lead Japan to victory; the entire nation would unite behind him in nationalist fervour, with the JRP and Aikoku Toko working to get the nation onto a full war footing."

"The 'Yellow Peril' again. It could be interesting."

"Indeed. However, we still have hope that it will not be needed. Moerike is an intelligent leader, a little inexperienced but if she needs support I will lend it to her. Quinntonia is our most trusted ally, they have worked hard to help ensure our survival. Vanessa has a lot of political capital that she can spend, she just needs to know how to spend it."

The Indian Soviet Commonwealth sent Adiatorix, man who many outsiders had tipped for a new Premiership in the Igovian Soviet Commonwealth before it became clear that the Third Commonwealth was an entity intent on change of a more radical sort. He was, none the less, a busy fellow.

Despite the accident that had destroyed the Dwrgi-T WIG vehicle serving the Philippines Liberation Soviet, Adiatorix still chose to cross the Pacific at an altitude of perhaps not even a couple of dozen feet and a speed of two hundred knots, and then to announce himself after most probably having got much closer to the Quinntonian west coast than the range at which authorities would normally expect to have detected large incoming craft. Even if WIG technology was now very much on the back-burner in the Soviet kitchen of high technology, Portmeirion still liked to make foreigners wonder...

The powerful and imposing figure of the chosen consul was enhanced by his recognisably Geletian dress and grooming. Long hair (best not to call it a mullet) and a thick, dangling moustach. Billowing hand-woven trousers with a colourful gridwork woven into them. Sandals. A heavy cape with a broach of precious and semi-precious metals worked by hand with substantially more skill than existed anywhere outside of the Soviet Commonwealth (such as had made renowned foreign artists appear ridiculous in failed attempts at immitation of what in India remained ten-a-penny craftsmanship) and set with a ruby worth thousands to a capitalist. A centuries-old curved sword of wootz (misnamed Damascus) steel hung from his hip.

Around his neck the Geletian wore a torque of silver, drawing the eye and in doing so causing the observer to notice a faded scar around Adiatorix's throat. A visible memory of his encounter with three Thugees during the last wayward days of the directionless Second Commonwealth, the scar was all that remained in testimony to his slaying of the trio... or so he'd like you to think, before bending your ear for the twentieth retelling of his near-death experience.

Along with his own physical imposition, strong cultural identity, and infamous repute, Adiatorix, arriving in distinctly Soviet style in the States, was boosted for the Commonwealth by the only day-old news of India's lunar programme (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11217253&postcount=33), with which the Soviets jumped into second if not first place amongst the world's space-goers.

Adiatorix hoped to cross Quinntonia from the west coast to Washington D.C. by way of public transport, and came with local currency and mild curiosity.

While the reports came into the war room deep in the bowels of the White House about the attack on Buenos Aires, a small convoy of about five Sacramento Class Hospital Ships left from Virginia ready to help in any way that they could, and planes began taking off from all over the nation to respond to this international crisis.

The heads of state who were staying in the White House were given all of the best treatment that they could possibly be given, including personal greeting by PM Vanessa Moerike and her husband, who was apparently a Lutheran theologian and historian of some repute.

When Royce I arrived, he would be given quarters as well in the White House, and it was hoped that he would forgive having the Lincoln Bedroom given away, especially since he had stayed there so many times that he had begun referring to it as,“His room,” and had the annoying (to the cleaning staff) habit of leaving personal belonging there to be picked up on his next visit.

The Gelletian representative was a surprise, as it seemed to mark the first time that Vanessa could remember that BG had actually accepted an invitation to one of these things. He was met at the airstrip with a large amount of Secret Service who would allow him to travel to Washington any way he liked, but would follow him and watch him very closely, every member of his Secret Service contingent were chosen in particular for their great size, as to remove any intimidation factor his robust appearance would have on others.

WWJD
Amen.

His Majesty, looking surprisingly well considering he'd spent the last several weeks visiting various parts of the globe in conferences, was slightly miffed at being beaten out to the Lincoln Room, but it was always nice to visit Quinntonia- especially that seafood restaurant in Boston that could do amazing things with Atlantic Salmon.

PM Moerike's husband- probably aware of His Majesty's prediliction for generally having a good time- would be surprised to learn that His Majesty was surprisingly well educated, fluent in four languages (English, French, Spanish, and Swahili), quite the historian himself, possessed of good humour and a sharp wit, and amazingly for an agnostic/atheist, surprisingly well-read and learned in matters of Faith- indeed, His Majesty had once famously asked the Archbishop of Canterbury "Did the Corinthians ever get around to writing back to Paul of Tarsus?", which had led to some unpleasant mutterings from the Archbishop.

Of course, PM Moerike and her husband have a standing invitation to visit Roycelandia whenever they wish (with a room set aside for them in the Imperial Palace, overlooking the exquisite Botanical Gardens and Palm River).

After dinner, His Majesty retired with only a laptop computer and a bottle of the finest Kentucky Bourbon, hoping to get some ideas on paper and good night's rest before the first round of meetings in the morning...

Upon sitting down with his computer, Emperor Royce will discover that an email has been sent to him. Knowing Royce's slightly offbeat sense of humour, she expected that his 'you have mail' message included of animated topless girls dancing around. She smiled to herself; of all the national leaders that she was obliged to deal with as part of her job, Royce I was perhaps the easiest to speak to on a personal level. He could be a hard-talking diplomat like the rest, but he was willing to let that slide among friends. Christina didn't know him all that well, but she'd seen the real man through the cracks in his armour once or twice.

To:RoyceI@Roycelandia.roy
From:Christina.Lloyd@ForeignMinistry.au
Subject:Recent Attacks

Emperor Royce I, etc, etc.,
I need to speak with you about the attacks that took place a few hours ago ASAP. Please meet me on the lawn in front of the White House this evening, I have the necessary clearance. Despite any love you may feel for cloak and dagger work, please bring guards. It would not do to have the tabloids see us meeting at night, alone, etc. My reputation is damaged enough right now, as I'm sure you understand. Before you beg off somehow, let me be clear.

The Prime Minister's government fully believes the French to be responsible. But we require an explanation as to how they were able to gain access to the missile silos in French Guyana. Please understand, we are only trying to prevent another such travesty from occurring, whether the target is us or some other nation whose existence is no longer concurrent with French needs.
-Rt. Hon. Christina Lloyd, etc, etc.

His Majesty was indeed at the designated meeting place that evening, along with a couple of Imperial Special Service agents, who almost blended into the background with their discreetness.

As the delightful Ms. Lloyd approached, His Majesty smiled, greeted her, and took a Churchill cigar from his breast pocket. "Mind if I indulge?", he asked pleasantly.

"No, not particularly," Christina replied. She looked around, seeing only vague shapes that might be guardsmen backlit by the White House, glowing in its own illumination. "Obviously, I'm here because of the attacks. Like I said in my email, I don't for a moment believe that it was the work of Roycelandia. I am concerned as to how the French were able to get into a secure facility, though. I understand that all this happened not too long ago, and investigations must still be underway. What I'm asking for, essentially, is a guarantee that any findings you come upon will be made available to my government."

His Majesty lit his cigar and took a long drag from it, taking care to exhale away from Christina.

"In all honesty, I'd like to know what happened there too. I have letters to write to the families of five dead Imperial Guard, and you've got most of Buenos Aires looking like, well, it's had a non-nuclear ICBM land on it."

He tapped the ash of his cigar, and took another drag.

"Here's the thing. We don't have the launch codes for the missiles- sure, one of our computer people could hack into the system and solve that problem in a couple of minutes- but why would we want to fire a missile at Buenos Aires? Hell, we've got plenty of missiles- nuclear and conventional- and as you're well aware, most of them are aimed at people we don't like."

Another drag, more ash tapping.

"Look, like you, I suspect the French are behind it, but really, there's no way of knowing. I've told Louis-Auguste that if he was going to launch ICBMs at people, there are half a dozen places that would be more strategically useful to both of us- mainly in the Indian Subcontinent and Asia- but he insists he knows nothing of it and keeps blaming "Terrorists. I really don't know. Rest assured though, as soon as I find something out, you'll be second to know."

Christina nodded, realising that she'd just have to take his word for it. She looked at the dark sky, full of clouds and smog. Even with his 'game face' on, Royce was a nice guy, and increasingly an ally of her government.

"We came to the same conclusion rather quickly. We know we didn't do it, and most of us are of the opinion that you didn't either. That leaves France, and Louis-Auguste probably saw this as an opportunity to knock us out of the war." She ran a hand through her scruffy hair, trying to get it to do something other than halo out behind her head. Not working.

"Anyway, thank you for your government's efforts to help us deal with the attack. I'm sure that Roycelandian support'll be very helpful in the near future." She paused, shifting from foot to high-heeled foot and trying not to sink into the lawn.

"Listen; I don't have official authorization to tell you this, but you'd be surprised at how much pull I have in Raleigh. Or maybe you wouldn't. Depends on if you read Australasian gossip rags or not. And that was strictly confidential, of course. I'll deny all of that if you say it in public. But the thing is, one good turn deserves another. If you ever need a hand, well, I'll do my best." She turned to go, replacing her hat and tripping a bit when her right heel sank into the turf; thereby ruining her exit. She stumbled a bit before regaining balance, and looked over her shoulder at the Emperor.

"Good meeting you here tonight, sir. I'm sure we'll speak more at the conferences. And by the way, outwardly Australasia is allied with the Soviets. They're backing the war effort, and we can't very well alienate them. But you should know, the Soviet Commonwealth has few friends in the government. Frankly, they worry us. So much as we might thank them, and help them, and fight alongside them now and again, we don't really like them. G'night, Emperor." With that she turned to go, softly cursing her heels.

Rt. Hon. Christina Lloyd- Australasia
Royce I- Roycelandia
Minister of Finance Li Mei Chen and Emperor Zhang-China
Prime Minister Minase and Foreign Minister Shimizu-Japan
Adiatorix-Beth Gellert
Mainwaring-Britain (unsure of coming?)

OOC- I am not sure whether or not the British PM was coming, his post was positive but doesn’t come right out and say it.

IC- Once Adiatorix finally gets to Washington, no doubt quite flustered in having to exchange currency for using the bus and perhaps trying to slip away from the Secret Service when he thought they needed to taught to keep a respectful distance, he was greeted personally at the bus stop by his personal body guard while he was going to be here. It was an extremely large gorilla of a man in a black on black Secret Service suit. He has a sharp buzz cut and the tattoo of a crucifix on his right cheek. He looked down at Adiatorix, standing at least four inches taller, and invited him to take a limo the rest of the way to his hotel (he is not coming anywhere near the White House, the last Communist that was allowed to be close to the PM tried to assassinate him) PM Vanessa Moerike was also present and greeted him warmly, she had actually spent six months hiking through Beth Gellert and Hindustan in her youth and though her Gelletian was poor enough to embarrass her, she was fairly comfortable with some of the stranger cultural phenomena. He would be brought to the finest hotel in Washington, five stars, and the White House would pay everything. He would be waited on hand and foot while he was there.

Royce was invited to have a working breakfast with PM Moerike in her private suite and meet her family; she had a girl of 6 and three boys, 10, 8, and 7. They made small talk and dicussed certain issues, but the big moment came when PM Moerike finally excused herself to her workday and said, “Oh, by the way, I have something for you,” and dropped a CD-DVD marked Rose Garden/Royce on it. She smiled warmly and simply said, “You and the late Jesse Obed had a great working relationship, one that involved trust despite our different views, and whatever is on that, is filed under none of my damned business.” With that, a friendship was born.

Prime Minister Minase and Foreign Minister Shimizu were later on the itinerary on the first day, with PM Moerike taking the time to stop by the offices that they had been provided and inquiring if they had a “Spooky night?” with a laugh. They were also warned that if Royce I appeared put off by them, that it was because they had horned in “his room.” It was very light-hearted and then PM Moerike made a graceful egress.

Minister of Finance Li Mei Chen and Emperor Zhang were greeted in a very special way, PM Obed asked for a private lunch to be served in the Dining Room and when Emperor Zhang was seated, PM Moerike performed the traditional Kowtow. Emperor Zhang would then notice that some of his favourite professors from Trinity College were in attendance and they were allowed to visit with little interruption from PM Moerike.

Rt. Hon. Christina Lloyd was asked for a mid afternoon stroll in the Rose Garden with PM Moerike, who delighted in taking time to talk with another strong female leader in this world. She reminded the Minister of the close relationship that Quinntonia had enjoyed with her nation up to this point, and said, “If every you need anything, let me know, we women have to stick together!”


It was hoped that the delegates would have some time to take in the sights and so on as we waited in breathless anticipation for Mainwaring to arrive o that the summit could begin.

WWJD
Amen.

His Majesty was deeply impressed by PM Moerike's handling of the Rose Garden DVD.

His Majesty was of the firm view that "Gentlemen do not read other Gentlemen's mail", and whilst he was rather fond of Cloak And Dagger-type activities, he still refused to indulge in such ungentlemanly activities as wire-taps, mail intercepts, and clandestine videotaping. Just not the done thing, you see...

Having His Majesty and Adiatorix in the same room was going to be difficult... the two were not fond of each other, and although His Majesty was being very civilised and diplomatic about the whole thing, he was privately under the impression that if something untoward was to happed to Mr. Adiatorix's bus, he wouldn't be losing any sleep over it.

Of course, actually facilitating that wasn't an option- again, not particularly sporting or nice- but it did make for happy Imperial daydreams, along with people thanking the Imperial Guard for liberating them from the Soviet menace...

Of course, Nigeria was going to be difficult. He personally stood to lose a lot of money if the Soviets invaded... There would have to be quadripartite talks about that with Australasia, Quinntonia, and Tsarist Russia, he thought...

British diplomats jetting around the world of late had used new-build Vickers VC.10, but Mainwaring was having none of it. He went to Washington aboard Concord (the E being dropped), with the union flag painted on her tail and countermeasures hurridly crammed aboard a refurbished aircraft that otherwise was just too seventies.

A Mach 2 cruise across the Atlantic, north of the scene of battle between the fleets of four nations, and Prime Minister George Mainwaring was in Quinntonia for the first time. The use of Concord was indicative of Britain's hope to try its luck alone in winning export orders for a modernised derivative.

Prime Minister Minase unfortunately had no spooky goings-on to report, but he still held out hope for something to happen.

While laughing off the suggestion that Royce may be internally vexed at losing 'his' room, Minase and Shimizu made sure to keep it in mind. If nothing else, Emperor Shinseiki would have a good laugh about it when they got back. However, since there was every possibility of it being true, the Japanese representatives noted it as yet another example of Royce's self-important manner.

The two spent most of their time in their offices, finalising their conference agenda and keeping in touch with events back home. Of course, they were impeccably polite to anyone they encountered when they took a break from their seclusion.

http://www.whitehouse.gov/history/life/

OOC_ Just a link to a few online tours of some of the rooms that you will be in. I thought it would add flavour, just picture more clergy hanging around and crosses on the wall.

Mainwaring was greeted at the airport by and honour guard of dress uniform marines and his car hurried him to the White House where he found himself in one of the many well-appointed rooms. PM Moerike’s husband was there to greet him in the Diplomatic Room and the good Doctor chatted with the head of state while he showed the PM his residence. Apparently, Dr. Moerike had spent a year of his first Masters degree (M.Div.) at a Seminary in the city of Cambridge, and then went back to earn his Doctorate at Cambridge University. He was very interested in British history and politics, and had Mainwaring not been torn away by his aides, he might not have stopped asking questions. Ah, intelligentsia. Mainwaring was assigned offices in the White House and it was explained that there would be a Full Course Dinner that night in the Dining Room.

http://www.whitehouse.gov/history/life/statediningroom.html#

Everyone was to be invited and there would be many other dignitaries that would be attending as well. This would be a reception for 120, with 20 seats for plainclothes, tuxedoes Secret Service interspersed among the guests, as well as Dress Uniform Marines lining the walls. The extra security measures were because; the White House was issuing a formal invitation to Adiatorix. This was a source of much consternation to those responsible for PM Moerike’s safety, but she had insisted.

OOC-You can probably just start the RP at dinner, and go from there. The main conference will start in the morning.

WWJD
Amen.

OOC: I made up my own seating arrangements, hope I didn't mess any grand plan up Quinntonia.

White House, Washington D.C.

Christina rather liked Quinntonian food, and though her personal tastes ran to French cuisine ... well, it would probably be a bad move to be seen at French restaurants these days. Most of the ones in Australasia had experienced a marked loss of business.

She chatted with Minister Shimizu of Japan in his own language, one of the three she'd picked up in her various dealings across the planet. She knew Shimizu fairly well, Australasia hoped to expand its trade with Japan, and the two ministers had spoken frequently. On her right was Prime Minister Mainwaring, another relative newcomer to the political scene. He was a forthright man, and the closest friend Australasia had had in years. Conversation was lively enough, mostly avoiding the topic of war raging across the Atlantic.

Deacon Moerike seemed to be a nice woman, she reflected. Very personable, although like Royce, most likely able to play the Game like a master. Their walk in the rose garden had been nice indeed, Christina had worried that recent accusations of being party to adultery would hurt her reputation in devout Quinntonia. It seemed that the opposition press back home had been silenced by a wave of gallic missiles, though, and Christina wasn't one to complain. Moerike's sense of humour had been cheerful and quick, a nice change from mercurial Parliamentarians, curt Soviets and the somewhat schitzophrenic but well liked Mumbai.

"So, Prime Minister," she said by way of introduction, her Australian twang becoming more pronounced after a glass of wine. "How's your country running? Trains still on time? Scots behaving? Irish done any damage recently?"

After the major reception was done, and everyone had been properly greeted and settled in, the main business of the summit was to be at hand.

The next morning, as everyone awoke to enter into the working portion of the summit. With all the nations that were present at the time, and with the world situation being what it was, this could be the most important summit that Quinntonia had ever hosted, and it was the first one that the untested Prime Minister Vanessa Moerike had hosted. She was a nervous wreck, she was exceptionally good at making everyone feel welcome and getting the stage set, but these are all things that she had handled in her many years as Deputy Prime Minister under the great Jesse Obed. But when the hard decisions that might or would cost lives had to be made, it was him, with her deferring to his wisdom and guidance, now there were hundreds of millions of people directly depending on her, with billions around the world watching this summit. But she entered the large round room that she was going to hold the meetings in, and looked around. She asked her Secret Service men to leave and they closed the doors behind them. There she was, in the famous Cabinet Room. Jesse Obed had often done this before big, meetings or debates or speeches. He called it “walking the battlefield.” You got familiar with the terrain and got comfortable with the surroundings, imaging the things that were going to be said and done in there. She walked the length of the room a couple of times, circled the table, stopped where she would be sitting and then sat down, staring out at the empty room soon to be filled with some of the most powerful people in the world, diplomats, ambassadors, and Secret Servicemen. Then, she kneeled down and prayed to God for help and guidance on this day, hoping that a lasting peace could be brokered here, if it be His will.

http://www.whitehouse.gov/history/life/cabinetroom.html#
Check out the panoramic view


After breakfast is served, all the heads of state and representatives will be asked to meet her there in the Cabinet Room, and a limo will be sent to pick up the Gelletian ambassador, if he can be called that. They will be lead by a combination of Secret Servicemen and dress uniformed Marines to the room, with special attention to the big Gelletian, and as this meeting is being set to convene, Quinntonians and their Mexican brothers and sisters are being asked to pray for the men and women meeting here today.

PM Vanessa Moerike will wait until everyone is assembled, then arrive and sit at her place at the head of the table, with a dress uniformed member of each of the five branches of the military following her, and her Secret Service detachment surrounding her, as well as translators, aides and Cabinet members. When she sits down, next to her will sit a Naval Officer with the famed nuclear football handcuffed to his arm, staring blankly forward.

Not being royalty, unlike a few at this table; this was her attempt to make an impressive and commanding entrance, hopefully it worked.

WWJD
Amen.

BUMP!
WWJD
Amen.

OOC: Don't have a lot to say, waiting for someone else to hop in and do something.

OK, I'll BUMP for a response one more time, then go ahead.

WWJD
Amen.

[[OOC: I dont know what about is going on or what this is even about. (lol) But quin invited all of us in the Steel thread so consider my Foreign Diplomat Marcus Weaving to be here.]]

Well Austria will make dutiful appearance sometime or another, just not right now...

Read a few pages back, you will see the reasoning for the Summit. If you do your homework, you could end up very well off, if not, well, your loss.

WWJD
Amen.

(I'm just waiting for the actual conference to begin - Feel free to start anytime)

Read a few pages back, you will see the reasoning for the Summit. If you do your homework, you could end up very well off, if not, well, your loss.

WWJD
Amen.

[[OOC: Well school starts back up tomorrow so I dont have time to read pages upon pages, but I'll see what I can do. :p ]]

OOC: Okay, fine. I'll go. Keep in mind that this is ~3 or 4 days after the attacks in BA, so that's what I'll be talking about. And Quinntonia, you should probably speak first, as host and all.

IC:

Christina didn't exactly merit a real bodyguard, but she was followed by a pair of marines in bright red dress uniforms, complete with black edging to signify mourning. They had dispensed with the SMLEs, feeling that the Secret Service of Quinntonia wouldn't be too chuffed by armed guards, and instead carried only ceremonial swords with a blunt cutting edge. Prime Minister Mainwaring would no doubt be reminded of the Royal Marines of old Walmington who had stood in the fighting-tops at the Glorious 1st of June, L'Orient, the Nile and Trafalgar.

Christina took her seat with the rest of the delegates, and set her attache case on the table. Opening it, she withdrew a black pen, a legal pad and a few notes, closely followed by her well-loved MacBook Pro laptop. Another personal eccentricity to go with the pink hair, but the government techs in Raleigh hated it.

So, a conference about the Holy League, eh? Well, she certainly had a bit to say about them. The war effort itself was shaping up nicely, the economy was slumping-- but that was expected-- and the world had been falling all over itself to hop in and be able to say 'we fought the Holy League', or 'we helped free Africa'. France's adventure in Africa would no doubt end ignominiously enough. The major concern for Australasia was not beating the Holy League, but rather keeping Europe stable, and hopefully bringing it back to being a world leader, rather than an embarrasment.

There was a stumbling block, though. The French loved their monarch, and by all accounts he was good to them. It wouldn't do to have the monarchy removed, but perhaps creating a parliament of sorts to check his power would be good. Certainly, Louis-Auguste himself would need to be charged for war crimes, but a bastard cousin, heir or other family member could be found. Oh well, at least the Bourbon line hadn't practised inbreeding for some years now.

OOC: Oh! That's cool, then Bismarck can make an appearance after all.

IC:

After boarding on a American Airlines flight from Innsbruck (Austria's latest to be refitted airport hub) to Washington D.C., Bismarck of course took coach, he liked to be inconspicous, and was only slightly annoyed at the rabid (especially when compared to the invasive Austrian security) American security checks, at least he wasn't bodily searched as he saw one unlucky person being lead away, with his handlers putting on some kind of plastic material gloves.

The airplane ride was quaint, a Concord would have been an interesting ride, fast to. Sadly he would never stoop to that level and ask the Walmingtons if he could borrow one of their aging Concords.

The trip was un-eventful, he touched down, went through another passport check, and was asked by a security official if he had brung any Cuban cigars along. Bismarck, unsure how to nswer replied in his accented Austria, "Why, you want one? I could get you some." Curiously the guard gave hima dark look and started muttering into his walki-talki.

Bismarck hurried onwards.

After looking at the subway map and buying the proper tickets he spent the better part of the day trying to get on the right exit and only missed it by one stop. So he got off on the next on and once there re-oriented himself and marched onto the White House. While generally confused, accidentally first going towards the Congress building he finally got to where he was going. As he circled the building, looking for a good way in he saw a group of kids, obviosuly a school trip, waving at the security men, after many yells and waves a half wave emerged from the hand of a roof top sniper. The kids went wild. Laughing, Maxen continued on and just decided to go up to the gates. Since now his usual pen pusher job was making him wish he was a more athletic person.

*He went up to the nearest security guard and "psst"ed him over. The guard, always wary if it was some kind of neo-Soviet going to be matyr edged over but stood a distance away. Bismarck, noticing the akwardness for what it was gave an exsasperated sigh and calmy told the security man what he was going to do.*

Of course the security man didin't belive him but still went off to find his manager, or whatever the Yanks did in their command chain, and brought him back in which case Bismarck said who h was, why he was here, and what would happen the mans job he he didin't let him into the White House as of yesterday.

Even though it was against his better judgement the two escorted the man back to the whitehouse and promptly hand-cuffed him to a chair and then went off the find someone else they could report to.

OOC: So yeah, I was bored and wanted to get Bismarck out there, so Quinn, if you could help out vonny that would be great, send a little message onwards to let him come in or you can not....

OOC- Maxen is shown right in, though I do need to ask, at which conference are you? You seem to be in many places at once.

PM Vanessa Moerike stood and leaned forward, balling her fists and placing her knuckles on the table in a pose designed to make her look serious and determined. “I suppose it falls to me to open this round of negotiations. I have attempted to gather the most influential men and women on the plant outside the Holy League to my home in order to speak of a new way of doing things. I propose that we come together as a grouping of nations in many faceted ways. The first, is to establish an organisation that will allow all nations to come together for the purpose of foreign relations, distributing aid to underdeveloped nations, deploying multi-laterally in case of humanitarian crisis, and even airing grievances in a public and global forum. This would be open to any and all nation states that wished to join, including those organisations of free democratic peoples who enjoy a political position, rather than a nationalistic loyalty,” she stammered, unsure of how to say that and not disclude every Soviet, Strainist and Anarchist on the planet.

“I propose that this organisation have an autonomous administration, beholden to no one nation and that this organisation be funded by donation from any of the member nations. I propose that we form her and today, a League of Nations!”

With that, she relaxed a little, and continued, “Now, right now, it is only an idea, and I would like the people in this room to help me to form that idea, what are you thoughts?”

She sat, and waited, if it would happen, these are the people who would do it.

WWJD
Amen.

During his stay, Adiatorix had consumed rather a lot. He lazed about, feet on tables, eating free food and drinking free liquor, smirking in some kind of satisfaction as the Secret Service always went to pains to provide him with an escort of greater stature than his own. That seemed to mean that his very race was making an effortless impression, and it also amused him to imagine some suit, somewhere, scanning files for suitable agents above two metres in height... he wondered what might happen if the Soviets ever bothered to dispatch a larger number of delegates and all of them Geletian men. They'd probably have to fly-in Dutch security, or so he amused himself by thinking as he swapped a more commonly perceived bout of lolling about, drinking, for a lengthy spell of meditation followed by some quite taxing swordplay in a room that he spent half an hour clearing of furnishing.

And the Commonwealther also consumed literature during his stay, picking up any publication that caught his eye and making a note of anything that might be worth checking the library records for once he got home. He was also interested to see first hand the balance of media coverage on certain events and general conditions. The Commonwealth made available a lot of information from a foreign perspective, but it wasn't really possible to know what the man next door was actually reading at any given moment just by asking him... you had to catch him at it.

Watered, groomed, and rested, Adiatorix arrived, once more amused by his ample escort, and apparently sort of proud of it as he entered the company of foreign leaders. "Where's your muzzle, George?" he asked, in Mainwaring's direction, making similar inquiries and comments around the room.

The Geletian listened to Moerike and curled his upper lip, though the visible result was more the quivver of an almost squirrel-sized moustache.

This was an excuse to get into Bihar, to stretch the market around struggling peoples and over naturally unstable revolutionary scenes. Certainly the Commonwealth could be represented in the body's authority, but, outnumbered by capitalist powers, what would it matter? Better to remain alone and able to block a subversive machine from without rather than to become mired within.

As yet he didn't actually say anything, but his body language would do nothing to cause others to suspect a radical change in Soviet disiniterest regarding such schemes as this. After all, the Commonwealth hadn't even joined the Shining Sphere of Revolutionary Co-prosperity, so it was unlikely that anybody expected him to be first in line to support a League of Nations.

"Honestly, ma'am," Christina said tentatively. "We'd love to see it work out, but the last few haven't done so well. If we want to make it work, it'll have to back up its edicts with a strong, effective military branch independant of the nations forming the governing body-- recruited seperately, trained by the League of Nations itself and equipped by the Leage, as well.

"'Course, the problem there is that you have a really big army controlled by a bunch of different nations arguing about this, that and the other thing, and that's obviously dangerous. So... so I don't really know." Dammit, Christina. Focus.

"In the end, I suppose we need some kind of entity like this, one which has a very strong military arm to enforce its resolutions and end humanitarian crises when necessary, but with enough checks on it that it can't become a pawn in someone's diplomacy or, worse yet, an army for someone's war."

PM Minase frowned slightly before answering.

"Obviously Japan would dearly love such an organisation to exist, but it will only really work if it includes powers such as the Holy League, Dra-pol, the 'Progressive Bloc'....the list can go on. Without them aboard, the League would simply be a group of democratic-capitalist nations sitting around, agreeing with each other and occasionaly defending themselves against expansionism. If that becomes the case then powers such as Japan, Walmington and Australasia might as well just join NATO, as it would achieve the same results.

The nations that we would most require to join are exactly the ones that would refuse to join. If the Holy League do not join.....imagine, they decide to expand by attacking a non-member of the League of Nations. We pass a resolution, they laugh it off. We decide to stop them, a League member objects and vetoes the action.

Japan will certainly support the proposal and will gladly join the League of Nations if it is brought into being, but unless we have the majority of the world's nations as members then it will not function."

The Strathdonian delgation, while doing a fine job of the usual Strathdonian role of not being noticed, do manage to make a statement alogn the lines of:

While agreeable to such an idea in vague principle the issues involved in implementation would likely be some what on the high side and to a large degree stacked against successful implementation and as such Strathdonia would conceed to requiring to know the stances of certain other parties.

Basiclaly in short what do Walmington and the INU think of things.

OOC- Maxen is shown right in, though I do need to ask, at which conference are you? You seem to be in many places at once.

OOC: Well I left myself two options, the first is that the other one I had with Japan, Chine, Russia, Indonesia, and me as an un-official observer is taking (will take) place sometime after this one. I may have miss interpreted that and if they are happening at the same time I have already exscused myself to go meet with the Chinese delegation in Vienna. In which case I can fly to Vienna, take a short hop to Innsbruck and be out to D.C. before even the SDU knows I even entered Austria.

The Chinses may see this as a cold shoulder but Crovn von Homer Prince I wanted to introduce, maybe become a major player later on.

Hopefully that clears up the mysterious workings of vonny.

IC:

Maxen, after waiting for an quite short time was lead to some room or another, he was quickly lost in the maze, he was lead in just to see the new Americanny, or American, Maxen forgot what, President talk about the League of Nations. Now Maxen was wishing he had stayed in Vienna, maybe need a restroom break and jump throuhg the bathroom window? Nah, he would probabaly be shot by those over anxious guards. Oh well, he slumped into a chair and listened why the Japanese and Australaisian appointed give a rebuke while the Ignovian seemed quite content to fufill every propaganda poster about communists being rude, un-cultured, and ape like versions of humans.

Maxen mentally shrugged, he wasn't working in that department anymore.

So as he had fun in the air conditioning he thought about replying but it just was such a plush chair and the air conditioning making it cool...... Just a quick nap....

Washington D.C.

Christina glanced at Maxen Von Bismarck, dozing in his chair. He was making these little pffee noises when he exhaled, and most of the people sitting nearby were pointedly ignoring him. She briefly considered placing his right hand in her lukewarm tea, but figured that the diplomatic incident resulting wouldn't be worth the fun. She returned her gaze to the Japanese Prime Minister.

"On a somewhat related topic, it is my government's hope that by the end of this conflict, the Holy League nations of France and Spain will no longer exist as a military power. Quite simply, they've committed several gross atrocities, and as a result we think that their military capability should be strictly limited to self defence, with a strict cap on naval vessels, aircraft and troops. Hopefully that way, we won't even have to worry about future crusades of Light, Truth and the Way," she finished mockingly, before glancing uneasily at Prime Minister Moerike. Oh well. Hopefully, the Quinntonian would take the comment in the spirit it was meant.

"I think that if we do establish a league of nations, its first priority ought to be the disarmament of France and Spain, and the immediate convening of a trial against Louis-Auguste and L'Duc du Normandie for their various acts. If we're to do that, we'll need to have an agreed-upon judicial model, as well as sufficient force to compel the French and Spanish to give up their arms. I also don't think that we need to include such nations on any kind of council in the League of Nations, since they've demonstrated a marked lack of an ability to govern with sanity or morality."

The characteristically large Union delegation finally shows up at the conference, having arrived in the Quinntonian capital not much more than an hour before. It can be difficult, when the IAF only has three aircraft in its inventory capable of making the long journey in good time, to find time for diplomatic or other non-essential tasks. Having missed the conference's introduction, the delegation duly sits down near Adiatorix and waits for a good point to speak. It might be rude, they think, shuffling in the door one second to push a more punctual party aside the next.

One of the Parliamentary retainers makes her way to the Strathdonian delegation, delivering, among other documents of official interest, a request that Lilongwe's two Chinese-built frigates join the Ibrahim Haidari and its escorts at Zanzibar.

[Heck, Hu Jin Tao is in Russia and Portmeirion simultaneously. I suppose it's not much of an issue unless someone wants to kill him.]

Zhang listens carefully, and utters a quick statement.

"But will it work without the Holy League? Will it work with pure diplomacy? I can hardly imagine Versailles disarming just because the League of Nations passed a resolution."

The Strathdonian delagation promises that the frigates shall be duly deployed as requested along with a single iler and freighter for logisitcal support, regret is expressed that more cannot be offered udner the circumstances and that more support cannont be found for a airborne operation from within the continent's interior.

OOC: Gurg, don't worry i haven't forgotten about the criusers it just there is no way they could get in theatre quickly enough, but they could perhaps on thier maiden deployment be used as convoy escorts for anythign you neeed to send to africa.

"If they don't," Christina replied, "then they'll be utterly destroyed." She fiddled with one of the provided pens, noticing the Ministerial Seal of Quinntonia emblazoned on its side. Yanks were funny like that-- putting symbols on everything.

"Think of it this way. The League of Nations won't be doing the actual defeating of the French and Spanish forces, they're just giving legitimacy to the disbanding of the enemy forces. Once we have the French on the back foot at home, we give them an ultimatum. 'Disband or die', something like that. Obviously, they won't at first, we'll probably need to capture Louis Auguste or something. But eventually, they'll be worn down enough and they will surrender.

"That's when we have the League of Nations step in. They provide legitimacy, safety from the Godless Australasian Horde and presumably, a whole lot of military might." Christina glanced again at Moerike, upon whose government it fell to provide much of said might. The other woman seemed to be listening intently, so she continued. "And if the French don't give up? They'll be faced with thousands of fresh, battle ready troops from all over the world. I don't think that even the Guardes Suisses'll stand for that."

Washington D.C.
Christina glanced at Maxen Von Bismarck, dozing in his chair. He was making these little pffee noises when he exhaled, and most of the people sitting nearby were pointedly ignoring him. She briefly considered placing his right hand in her lukewarm tea, but figured that the diplomatic incident resulting wouldn't be worth the fun. She returned her gaze to the Japanese Prime Minister.

OOC: :cool: Oh yeah! Cheers for pffee noises! A small, barely worth mentioning bit, von is supposed to be lowercase, so like Maxen von Bismarck. Why? I don't know, all I know is von is supposed to represent Prussian nobility, so you would think it would be uppercase and everything lowercase if you needed to have some lowercase letters in your name.

IC:
Maxen had come back from his little nap, opened his eyes a little to see Christina looking over in a very condescending way and quickly got the gumption to try and look presentable. because if he wasn't mistaken a lot of people where looking his way, just not turning their heads to do so. Stifling a yawn he sat up to listen as the Uniouners appeared and headed toward the Strathdonians.

Nodding every now and again, he turned on his Cameroon again. Because one of his closer SDU men was operating another Cameroon and sending back what was going on. Silly Moslems.... They don't care about trade at all, since honestly, who needs suicide bombers to be imported? He thought to himself.

Oh well, looking back up he caught the tail end of the Strathdonians, wondered when the Chinese would speak, and got to listen through Christina's re-iteration of amazingly un-suprising infomation. While having a glimmer of the direction the League of Nations could go down he still wanted to be able and keep all of his options open and so he wisely kept silent. You can always say you slept through the whole thing if this boat sinks.....

Washington, D.C.

Dovetailing, if ever an appropriate word was to be used, in the wake of Louis-Auguste’s popular and amenable Sixty Minutes interview on Quinntonian television, the Prime Minister of France Monsieur le Comte de Maurepas, the Foreign Minister Monsieur le Comte de Vergennes, and (the only Protestant in Versailles, and a close friend of the deceased Jesse Obed) the Finance Minister Hugh Enot, arrived at the Quinntonian capital as part of a special ‘emergency envoy’ to the White House.

The French would make a huge surprise landing in D.C., arriving on a Quinntonian United Airlines flight for safety. No one, the French are sure, expected them. Their presence is no doubt heard of at the conference, but they do not make for it.

Instead of meeting with the delegates, however, they proceeded straight for an emergency meeting at the White House.

Another aircraft touches down at Washington D.C., only minutes after the French had arrived to attend the conference. This particular Fokker F28, wearing Senegalese roundels ever since Ghana's example was stranded in Wellington, comes carrying the Vice-President of Liberia, Joseph Nyumah Boakai. As a Baptist Deacon, it is hoped that his religious credentials will improve his standing in Quinntonian eyes and help to elicit their support. Boakai arrives hoping that the Quinntonians will tell the French to keep away from Liberia at the very least, and that without much negotiating on his part, but with France's voracious appetite for territories all too well known, whether Versailles will stop even at West Africa is questionable.

The Liberian delegate is, however, armed with several major points that could help improve ECOWAS's chances of getting Quinntonian aid. First of all, the French had killed perhaps as many as a hundred thousand Ghanaians when they firebombed Accra, and had begun the forcible resettlement of Beninese for use as slave labor. Boakai doesn't know yet, but before the Ouagadougou garrison perished, they managed to radio a report of the French gas attack there to Bamako, and Bamako had since sent it to every standing West African capital. It is only a matter of time before Quinntonia hears of it.

OOC-All the people newly arriving are of course met with a full honour guard and a very well armed motorcade takes them to the White House.

IC-PM Moerike stands again and says, “I think there may be some misunderstanding that needs to be clarified, and I hope that we can do that right away. The League of Nations will not be an anti-HL alliance, built around the idea of might makes right and towards disarming the French. That is just too shortsighted. I am thinking of all of the instances that world opinion should have had an opportunity to come to bear in the last several years. The Federal Republic of Bonstock comes to mind. I want to create a permanent body that will facilitate PEACEFUL interaction between nation states, not a multi-national armed force. In fact, I believe that the League of Nations should not have standing army, and that any military action decided upon would be only of a peacekeeping or humanitarian nature, and be on a volunteer basis alone. Also, I believe that we should draw up a charter that clarifies that the League would not have the power to impose its will upon sovereign bodies except in extreme circumstances like the breaking of international law, and humanitarian abuses, and that it could not declare war on any body at all.”

WWJD
Amen.

Entering serenely into the conference after an audience with the Quinntonian Prime Minister, the French ‘emergency envoys’ entered into the grand hall, wherein sat nations such as themselves contemplating peace. Within minutes the Prime Minister, M. de Maurepas, rose to the podium as his compatriot State and Finance Minister’s assumed their positions at the newly erected French delegation table. Little fluer-de-lys flags were the only decorations. Halfway through his address, the Spanish Ambassador to Versailles Senor de Panzo and the Tsarist diplomat Count Falkenstein arrive at the hall and sit at His Catholic Majesty’s and His Imperial Majesty the Tsar’s tables respectively, flanking the Franconic delegates. With a warm smile, the Prime Minister began his address, shirking the formality of Court of a pinstripe suit.

He even smiled upon the West African delegates, purposely giving them a small bow. They were less of a threat than their pathetic rebellious camaraderie. For every report they circulated with their pathetic too equipment, the French would be able to present photos of documented massacres, with throats slit, to the last man of African collaborators. If they persisted in their sad tactics, it would simply be turned round upon them. His sweet voice in English was heard to say:

“Honored statesmen, it is my honor to address you today.”

“For too long strange forces have conspired to culminate in war, a war which many nations here today find themselves embroiled in. For too long. Indeed, who of us will defeat the other? In pools of blood, then, shall each of us attempt to utterly defeat the other, using every weapon we possess? No, no. This cannot be the answer we all seek, because it will lead to decades of warfare that will make World War II seem lax, until each respective opponent receives nearly total ruin. Now Quinntonia, ever the heartland of our Christian west, calls all of us to Pax’s sweet table. Solutions must no longer be found at the ideological point of a gun, rather they have been given to us by the hand of the eternally risen Christ.”

“And so, in such a sweet hour, does the Most Christian King of France Louis-Auguste send his humble servants before you with arms outspread to a burgeoning League of Nations. Is it so different from our Holy League? Not really. Are there possibilities for us to unite our organizations in peace and concord? Definitely. For, beyond all doubt, I tell you truth: neither the League of Nations nor the League of Holiness will be able to exist at odds with one another. Only together, in peace, shall prosperity occur.”

He held out both hands, palms empty and upward, like he was weighing something. “A League of Nations, working together with a League of Holiness…truly, would these nations not be united? The United Nations, mesdames et messieurs, if you will it, can rise from this turmoil.”

“In that spirit, standing before God and those assembled here today with the olive branch of peace and the cedar of amity, I present you all with His Most Christian Majesties terms for an Eternal Peace!” as he concluded enthusiastically, French state ministry functionaries went to Quinntonian, Walmingtonian, and Australasian tables with thick heavy manila folders, sealed with the Bourbon Coat of Arms and the dove of the Holy Spirit and peace.

((I am going to TG each of you respectively by tonight with the terms, IC but done secretly by TG. After all, that’s how diplomacy really does work, furtively behind close doors. Give me a few hours then please before you make your response, you will have the French response to the naval battle and some very interesting telegrams ere three hours wane!))

OOC: Oh, so we are at little tables? Not some big massive oak monster? Okay then, I will just say my little desk/table is maghony, little Austrian flags, and the Pink Floyd song "Money" is being played. ;)

IC: Maxen was really feeling dumped out of the pan but then land in the fire, honestly, the Germans should and hopefully did get the hint, only needed to tell them what Austria thought of any organizations totally devoted to killing anybody was a bad idea by totally killing any relations in the future years. Honestly, Australasia was really getting uppity on this situation and not wanting to talk, especially after getting his energy back from his nap, was getting harder and harder to contain.

Yet he endured, replied back to Nick (Trugen), he seemed all anxious about some kind of war or another, on his Cameroon and had his fears eased back by the Quinntonian diplomat and thankfully the Paris appointed didn't go on some kind of rave, it only was good to give those than to recieve them.

[OOC: I would like to make note that, although it never came to fruition because I realized it would have no international credibility after ramming through the Baltics, it was a certain Vladimir Putin who first proposed the creation of an AMW UN of sorts.]

Washington D.C.

Everyone hated D.C for one reason or another, and for Sir Andrew Strathairn, it was the Capitol Beltway. Fifty-five miles per hour was an absurdly low speed limit, and as such, all the taxi drivers, shuttle drivers and everyday people who came from places in which driving was the national blood-sport took the road at eighty or ninety.

Elian immigrants, African expatriots and Bostonians whizzed by the tinted windows of the Prime Minister's car, and by the time he actually got to the meeting hall he felt a tad bit shaken. Someone with New York plates had decided that it would be fun to cut into the middle of his motorcade, which had caused much scrambling amongst both his Marines and the Secret Service guards.

There was a brief standoff at the gates of the White House, during which time his marines seemed unenthusiastic about giving up their rifles, and the Secret Service seemed unenthusiastic about said rifles in the first place. A brief standoff between the two armed camps developed, before Strathairn waved his guardsmen down.

He was led inside the White House by someone's chief of staff, and deposited at the Australasian delegation's table. Christina looked harried, and kept casting curious glances at Maxen von Bismarck, who alternatively dozed and looked regally irritated in the corner.

"Glad you're here," she whispered darkly as Strathairn took his seat. "Mind taking over for me while I go die somewhere?" Oh, wonderful. He definately needed his top diplomat in a snit because he'd taken her off perhaps the most monumental negotiations of the century. Strathairn gave her a chilling look, before casting a glance at the Walmingtonian delegation. Ah, yes. They had a laptop open in front of them.

Strathairn snagged Christina's Mac, for which he earned another cold look. He opened up the email program... some freeware thing with an unlikely and bird-inspired name.


Having trouble reaching embassy in Raleigh, please advise as to the future of the war effort/peace deals. We do not want to leave Walmington alone, but France's concessions have been thus far generous and, to be frank, fairly good ones.

Essentially, however London goes, so goes Raleigh. But it would be nice to know, in advance, how London is planning to make the trip.
-Rt. Hon. Sir Andrew Strathairn, etc. etc.

-The Combine-

The now familiar green Combine jet rolled to a stop on D.C.'s runways, blaring The Beatles tune I am the Walrus (Britain had left an odd imprint on the Combine's musical tastes that lasted long after its occupation had ended) and releasing the characteristic steam of a hydrogen fuel engine. The Armandian Diplomatic Corp, clad in sharp black suits, mirrored dark sunglasses, and emerald green ties, marched out briskly. Accompanied by the Secret Service, they entered the conference and sat down at the table that had reserved for them.

The Combine's delegates expressed enthusiasm for a League of Nations, although not for the name (the League was a notorious failure, after all). An organization of this sort could reinforce Armand's role as the leftist alternative to Bedgellen anarchism; the capitalists and the feudalists seemed far more willing to choose the orderly Combine over the rowdy Commonwealth, especially since the Armandians were not prone to 'liberate' a foreign nation on a whim, and, although no party at the table would admit it, since the Armandians provided the capitalist world with the sweet, sweet oil it needed to survive.

As the conference turned to the war at the hand, the Armandians were yet again obliged to speak. The Combine had committed itself to Sahawari independence, and had already declared war on the Sultante; as they spoke, the largest naval excursion in Armandian history was being readied at various southern ports. The Tsar's claim on Morocco would put the Unified Combine and the Tsarist Empire on a decidedly brutal crash course, and Armand had no interest in entering the conflagration of World War Three, especially with the Bedgellen threat in Bihar and the Depkazi one in Afghanistan. On the other hand, the Combine was not a nation that would back down on its commitments, and more importantly, the Combine had decided that the Sahawari people had suffered enough. The time had come for a free, democratic, and Islamosocialist Western Sahara, and it was up to the Holy League to determine whether its birth would be a peaceful delivery or a brutal labor.

International Observers will note that His Imperial Majesty Emperor Royce I's Sunderland Flying Boat is once again moored on the Potomac River, meaning the Emperor is also in Washington- which explains why the price of bourbon seems to have risen noticeably in local bars and bottle shops...

While this was going on, Zhang's blackberry was vibrating constantly as news of a supposed nuclear detonation over Libya had wiped out a fleet of French bombers near Tripoli reached Beijing. He knew instantly then that Washington would intervene, perhaps militarily, judging by their past record on nuclear weapons. And sure enough, minutes later, a message was recieved by his office back in Beijing - Washington requesting China's support for action.

It was his turn to speak out against letting the emotions attached to Hiroshima and Nagasaki start another world war.

"Friends, fellow statesman, I am sure that by now you will have heard of the nuclear detonation over Libya. A French deployment of bombers over the city of Tripoli was caught in the resulting fireball and destroyed."

"I ask that you, the people who will make decisions that either support or destroy the lives of millions, take the time to consider all the facts in this case instead of rushing to an irrational and frankly, dangerous and ill-thought out response. Remember that the last waves of French bombers targetted civilians and made no effort to limit their casualties. Remember those lost in Gibraltar and Buenos Aires."

During a break of the summit that was going on in Washington D.C., Prime Minister Vanessa Moerike gets the news, “A Soviet unit has deployed nuclear ordnance in defence of a Libyan invasion force heading into French-backed Algeria. Apparently, there was an incoming French air attack that was rumoured to contain nerve toxins that was aimed at crushing the Libyan attack in one fell blow.” She almost swore as the Pentagon official brought her up to speed.

Apparently France had been using gas attacks for a while, whenever they ran into trouble that they couldn’t handle in Africa, but this was going to be the largest WMD attack since the end of WW2. France was in this thing up to its eyeballs, and these were obvious desperation moves. But then the Soviets launched two nuclear missiles and took out the entire incoming attack in one attack.

“This has gotten completely out of control. We cannot allow the world to sink into total chaos while we sit here and talk of peace. The long-standing Quinntonian policy under Jesse Obed had always been to get involved wherever there was use of nuclear weapons, I think that this is a valid time to do so.”

Soon, the White House Press Secretary was facing a barrage of questions from the press:

“What is the Prime Minister’s position on this?”

“Does this signal a Soviet intention to make good on all of the threats that they have been making against Quinntonia all o these years?”

“Does the government believe that this was a legitimate defence in regards to the incoming criminal attack by France?”

“Why does our government not leap to defend the attacked peoples in Gibraltar and Portugal?”

“What is ….” At this point, the Prime Minister walked briskly in, flanked by Secret Service.

AS she takes the podium, she pauses and crosses herself, “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, my administration thus far has been about peace and not getting involved in others’ affairs. However, while I have taken this course, our brothers and sister in Christ the world over have been attacked and lost their way. The King of France, Louis August, and his Spanish allies have proven that they cannot be trusted to handle this issue on their own without falling to the level of the most dangerous of us. So it is time once again for a Quinntonian presense to be felt in the world.

First, to France and Spain; you steadfast refusal to listen to reason has led us to this. You have spurned the brotherhood of your Christian friends across the sea, so I must give you an ultimatum. You must answer in the affirmative to every part of the British peace proposal within 2 days, or Quinntonia will enter the war on the side of the anti-Holy League Coalition. Spain must especially give up both Gibraltar and Portugal, and do so in the same amount of time. France must also pay the war reparations in earnest, along with reparations to be made to Portugal by Spain. Morroco will be forgiven their part in this conflict, but refusal to ask HL soldiers to leave its borders will result in their government being considered criminal and part of the problem.

Also, with the use of nuclear weapons, Libya must immediately surrender to Quinntonian forces and be disarmed. I am now ordering both the Fifth and Sixth Fleets to immediately move to engage Libya if they do not agree to do so within 72 hours. And be warned, we will consider any nuclear deployment against Coalition forces an attack against Quinntonia, and a nuclear response will be issued immediately.

I have just left a conference with Royce I, who is in Washington at the League of Nations conference, and he has agreed to form an alliance with Quinntonia to disarm the government of Libya. They have also agreed without reservation that they will carry the fight to any who attempt to defend the criminal Colonel, the Terror of Tripoli. This Coalition will also be joined without reservation by Japan, as I have just been in conference with my good friend the Prime Minister of Japan. They have also agreed to join in the defence of freedom and to make the world safe from warmongers who would use WMDs and nuclear weapons.

Ladies and gentlemen of the press, and my fellow Quinntonians, I order that every church in the entire nation and in all of the land of Mexico be rung for the next two days as we wait the answer from the Libyans, Spain and France. I ask that tomorrow be declared a day of prayer and fasting and that all non-essential personnel stay at home to pray in support of our nation as we take up the burden of our cross once more, for in two days, we may be at war.”

She immediately walks out of the room as the Press Gallery explodes.

She walks directly into her war council. She orders the entirety of the armed forces to go to Full Alert, and orders the mobilisation of the entirety of Tier 1-All active reserves. They are ordered to report to their stations within 5 days time. The next Tier (a call up of all able bodied retired combat officers) is put on alert. They need to be available within 7 days of the order to call them up.

The entire Second Fleet is ordered to move back away from their positions, and ordered to rendezvous with a Roycelandian Fleet that may be coming to their position.


Second Fleet: Atlantic Ocean from the North to the South Poles
Assets:
2 Carrier Battle Groups, including:
Mary Mother of God, Moses (based in Norfolk, Virginia- 2 Nimitz)
5 Tarawa Class Amphibious Assault Ships
5 Austin Class Amphibious Assault Docks
4 Whidbey Island Class Dock Landing Class Ships
4 Harper’s Ferry Class Dock Landing Class Ships
2 Arliegh Burke Class Guided Missile Destroyers
2 Seawolf Class Attack Submarines
2 Virginia Class Attack Submarines
1 Kraken Class Super Dreadnaught (Roycelandian Purchase)


The next order was to the Fifth and Sixth Fleets, since they had already been moving to rendezvous before going to Gibraltar, they moved from their position in the Aegean Sea south and towards the North African Coast, making for Libya. They were taking every precaution from submarine warfare, with constant patrol and the latest in detection technology being implemented, along with bringing the world’s most extensive satellite network to bear on the situation.

Fifth Fleet: Middle East, Indian Ocean:
Assets:
1 Carrier Battle Group, including:
Paul (based in Manama, Bahrain- 2 Nimitz)
2 Austin Class Amphibious Assault Docks
2 Ticonderoga Class AEGIS Cruisers
3 Oliver Hazard Perry Class Frigates

Sixth Fleet: Mediterranean Sea
Assets:
1 Carrier Battle Group, including:
Mark (Based in Geata, Italy- John F. Kennedy and Kitty Hawk)
2 Ticonderoga Class AEGIS Cruisers
2 Arliegh Burke Class Guided Missile Destroyers

OOC-These numbers are all pre posted here:
http://z9.invisionfree.com/NS_Modern...wtopic=5&st=45


She also orders a full half of the complement of aircraft that were based in Rammstien, Germany, to Geata, Italy.


The Soviet ambassador from BG is asked if he would like to be escorted out of the nation, or would like to continue the talks, under even heavier guard?

WWJD
Amen.

The Indian National Union does not wait long to express its displeasure over Quinntonia's descision, a potentially disastrous one for Mumbai's interests. In Mumbai, crowds take to the streets to demonstrate in front of Quinntonia's embassy and the offices of various missionary organizations active in the Subcontinent, loudly proclaiming their support for the Soviets. Some local councils have even started to discuss evicting Quinntonian missionaries, policies that are sure to provoke a response from Washington if they are carried out. Parliament also is quick to write its own communique, condemning Moerike's ultimatum and accusing Quinntonia of "blatent hipocracy," among other things, and promising the termination of diplomatic relations should any attack on either the ISC or Libya be carried out.

Parliamentarians present in Washington for the Quinntonian summit also make their disapproval very much known to their hosts. During the fateful recess, one of the delegates delivers a speech detailing the official Union line.

"...The Indian National Union must whole-heartedly condemn Prime Minister Moerike's policy on the issue of Tripoli's recent defense. It is impossible to think in good faith that the use of nuclear-tipped SAMs, over international waters and in the defense of a civilian target against a formation of bombers bent on its wholesale destruction with poison gas, constitutes grounds for military action. Either the Quinntonian government is misinformed, or the Quinntonian government would have two soveriegn nations punished for protecting the lives of innocent civillians, and this we simply cannot accept. Any attack made against either Soviet or Libyan forces engaged in the liberation of occupied Algeria will result in the immediate termination of diplomatic relations between the Indian National Union and Quinntonia, and the eviction of all Quinntonian citizens from territories under Union charge.

Perhaps, not being eager to involve itself in the complicated affairs of the world at large, Quinntonia has had reason to ignore France's dastardly use of poison gas, in Algeria and in Burkina Faso most recently. Furthermore, Washington did not denounce the firebombing of Accra, in which some 50,000 Ghanaians are known to have perished. Nor did Washington demonstrate any real displeasure with the terrible monster Bonstock following its destruction of Mergui. There is nothing to suggest that, given its history of apathetic behavior, Quinntonia would have taken any harder a line with Versailles following the gassing of Tripoli. And after all, a dead person is a dead person. Whether they were gassed by the French or shot by a Bonstockian conscript makes no difference. The choice facing Tripoli's air defenses was, and is, quite clear. They could have responded conventionally, against a force of bombers corresponding to about half the LARAF's combat strength. Many bombers would doubtless have gotten through, if only by virtue of superior numbers, and would have dropped their ordnance over Tripoli. It is impossible to know how many would have perished in the attack, but it would surely have been many. Fearing the worst, and justly so, the Libyan commander chose the nuclear option, thus saving his city and the lives of its citizens. I doubt a Quinntonian officer would have responded differently, given the circumstances.

The characterization of Indian forces as aggressors to a larger degree than Walmington or Australasia has no grounding in reality. Mabye Quinntonia is content to sit within its own borders and wait for France to consume all of Europe and all of Africa in its orgy of brutality and terror, secure behind a military that only Quinntonian money can buy, but India certainly is not. Indian forces are yet to attack, even by accident, targets with known civilian populations. France seems to make light of such action. And when the armies of West Africa, armed mainly with patriotism, were called-upon to fight-off numerically and technologically superior Frenchmen and Nigerians, Quinntonia certainly did not raise a great fuss, much less step-in to lend a helping hand to the beleaguered nations. Quinntonia looks to have left deeply troubled Liberia to the French dogs as well, in spite of its recent, and successful, return to democracy under Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf. Now Washington stands to derail this operation as well, and makes no provision for West Africa in its ultimatum.

France has conducted its war of subjugation in both the Iberian Peninsula and West Africa in a manner not suitable for any nation, much less one claiming to hold Christian values dear. French troops have proven themselves totally without honor, using barbaric forms of weaponry even in instances where West African armies could field a mere fraction of French numbers, and poorly-equipped at that. To go to war with the Soviets and the Libyans would be to reward cowardly conduct, and to punish the brave and honourable. Even as allied forces in Libya prepare to face an enemy at least ten times larger, there is no thought of using WMDs, not even "docile" varieties like the chlorine gas that France uses almost offhand. Of course Royce will support the invasion of Libya. He'll not hesitate to occupy it permanently, it is reasonable to suspect. Not to mention, Royce I is a close friend and ally to Louis-Auguste, and has provided the French regime with heavy support throughout this present conflict.

The Indian National Union will not stand for the presence of foreign armed forces with hostile intentions on the Indian Subcontinent. Should Quinntonia or Quinntonian allies attempt to land troops in the Soviet Commonwealth, or attempt a blockade, the Indian National Union will consider it cause for war. This imminent conflict between Quinntonia and the ISC is without precedent, and it is the hope of all Unioners that Washington will choose to pursue a more sane course of action. If, however, Quinntonia decides to carry its threats to India, or if Quinntonia attacks Union personnel engaged in joint operations with either the ISC or the UAR, Quinntonia will face an Indian response."

It should come as a surprise to no-one that Mumbai is unwilling to fight Quinntonia in Libya or Africa, since such an engagement would likely lead to the destruction of the IN before it has a chance to make its presence felt on the Frenchmen. Mumbai would, after all, rather go it alone into West Africa than join in a war with pretty much all of the non-HL west, while still fighting the League. Unless Quinntonia attacks the Indian Subcontinent itself, the Indian National Union really has no choice but to remain neutral, if there is to be any chance of carrying-through the West Africa campaign. Much of the diplomatic traffic to Raipur emphasizes the need to look for a diplomatic solution to the present crisis, for the sake of operations against the League, and for the sake of Union foreign policy. Would it not be possible, they say, to accede to some Quinntonian demands? Remove nuclear weapons based in Libya, perhaps, now that the French bomber force has been destroyed?

The Soviet delegate was apparently unshaken. "It doesn't worry me" he would say, "It's probably no safer in Washington than in Tripoli, if the United States decides to start a war." He added, with some menace.

"Still, I shan't stay if I'm unwelcome." Finished Adiatorix.

Needless to say, with the Soviets and more nations behind him, Col. Muammar Abu Minyar al-Qadhafi saw no reason to be disarmed by the imperialists. What use are defences if he may not use them? All he has done is to half-heartedly attack an enemy that the United States itself now holds under threat of war!

Besides, Japan is remote and thought to lack the stomach for war, and Roycelandia has performed poorly in every armed conflict in which the opposition had so much as a late C19th Russian rifle. And if the US is to launch into war with the Holy League at the same time as with Libya and its allies, its forces in the Med. will become isolated and attacked from every side, even if Tripoli doesn't lift a finger.

The Soviet Commune is yet to respond to Quinntonian threats directly, but is moving forces into Libya at a fantastic rate, using its large standing airlift force, two of three largest airplanes in the world, and scores of the national carrier's convertable civil/military airframes. Portmeirion has no intention of backing down in any way until it does something wrong, but does privately inform Mumbai of its on-going deployment of CS-400 Red Sky SAM/ABM systems around Tripoli and other Libyan cities, and near major facilities in the Libyan petrochemical industry, providing a system with greater target-handling ability than Libya's own S-200 and V-75 sites without the need for nuclear warheads. Various speakers also commend the INU on its refusal to abandon honour in an age that appears to consider such a virtue obsolete.

In truth, the Red Sky units are also deployed with a small number of back-up low-yield nuclear warheads amongst their primarily conventional arsenals, because Portmeirion does not know that Libya won't end up facing conventional, chemical, and nuclear attack from France, Roycelandia, and even the US, given its ridiculous policies of late.

(Edit: Heh, 666th post ahoy!)

The Quinntonian Prime Minister points out to the INU that not threat was made against either them or the Indian sub-continent at all. The Soviets were only included in our pronouncement because it is well known that Libya and its tyrannical dictatorship has been and still is financially and militarily supported by the Soviet regime.

Quinntonia and its people also do not support the use of any kind of WMDs, including the nerve toxins that were used by France, and as you will see, we are now in full support of the British peace proposal as a means to end this war that now has escalated on both sides to include the use of those kinds of weapons. Rest assured that has the French attack taken place, Quinntonia would have solely been taking action against France and her Spanish allies. This is not to suggest that a better course of action would have been to let the French perpetrate such a horrific humanitarian disaster in order to garner our support, rather it is in recognition that our Christian brothers and sister in France and Spain have lost their way, and in accordance with the Scriptures, we have a responsibility as Christians to correct them so they do not continue to damage the cause of the Gospel. And the 45 million Catholic Quinntonians are quite supportive of this; it is not a Protestant attack on Catholicism, especially given the influx of the Mexican Catholics, where the most voracious opposition to especially Spanish aggression seems to be coming from.

Though, I must also address our record in this matter, accusing us of doing nothing in the Bonstock affair is quite ridiculous, though we entered the conflict late, and stayed the course of benevolent neutrality at the beginning, it was the Bonstockian atrocities and use of WMDs that spurred us to action, and we committed the largest Quinntonian fleet since WW2 to the cause, and more troops than any nation except Sino. And that was from a distance of thousands of miles, separated by the largest Ocean on Earth that that commitment came.

We must also begin to see France and Spain as two separate entities with disparate, if similar agendas, and with the Spanish refusal to even listen to the demands of the world community, it still is within the power of France to acquiesce to our demands and escape further action.

This action by the Quinntonian, Japanese and Roycelandian peoples and their governments are taken with one goal in mind, to not allow this thing to continue any longer than is absolutely necessary. All three of us understand that in case war with HL powers may have to come, but we all pray that reason dictates HL actions, though the recent actions by Spain seem to preclude their taking part. So now, it is up to France to answer for her actions. I personally do not see the reason in capturing and trying Louis-August for these actions thus far unless it can be proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was directly involved in ordering the massive WMD attacks. I also do not believe that Colonel Khadafy needs to be taken from his post. I also do not belive that any of these territories need to be occupied. That being said, I should also point out that there is no threat here against the Indian Soviets, and Quinntonia, Roycelandia, and Japan will only respond to Soviet aggression, and will not be responsible for first strikes at all. The areas that will be held accountable here are France, Spain and Libya.

Of course, I will re-iterate, that nuclear strikes against Quinntonian personnel, who have no history of using WMDs aside from the unfortunate events at the close of WW2 of which we have begged for forgiveness ever since, will be responded against in kind. We will only respond to the level of aggression that we have to, we will not attack suing these horrible weapons.

Quinntonia had the horrible burden to be the first to enter the nuclear club, and the first to use nuclear weapons in warfare, and it is hoped that the world would learn that this weapons is far too deadly to be thrown around without forethought for the consequences. Throughout the cold war, our NATO allies practiced the doctrine of MAD, and that kept massive wars from brewing up, the Soviets of that era were wise enough to understand the folly of any nuclear action, and it was only during the Bonstock affair that we started this practice again, an action that was universally condemned, even by the Indian governments that are now supporting the use. And in that case, as I recall, they were also used against military personnel.

I do not want war, but there is no nation on Earth that is more committed to marching on before, with the Cross of Jesus in hand.




LATER-
PM Vanessa Moerike orders that all of Tier Two be called up immediately and puts Tier Three on notice.
Also, she begins to buy war commodities at an alarming rate, while planes filled with troops begin to darken the skies over the Atlantic, heacing towards Geata, Italy and Rammstien, Germany.


WWJD
Amen.

"Friends, fellow statesman, I am sure that by now you will have heard of the nuclear detonation over Libya. A French deployment of bombers over the city of Tripoli was caught in the resulting fireball and destroyed."

"I ask that you, the people who will make decisions that either support or destroy the lives of millions, take the time to consider all the facts in this case instead of rushing to an irrational and frankly, dangerous and ill-thought out response. Remember that the last waves of French bombers targetted civilians and made no effort to limit their casualties. Remember those lost in Gibraltar and Buenos Aires."

Well that was news to Maxen; oh well, he couldn't know everything and it seemed as the proccesion went along there were tons of ani-HL diplomats in the room that if you weren't totally intune with the situation you would think the HL and decided to burn Tripoli to the ground in some kind of cyncial mind game. Regardless he thought the whole event was going to send the world into a nuclear winter but let's face it. The amount of games that these inventors had packed into one small Cameroon really outstounded him.....

Adiatorix, tired of complaining about the tasteless nature of the food, watery composition of the beer, and chemical whiff to both, finally did some work, communicating with the rest of the Commonwealth Professional Civil Service.

The big Geletian was to use this forum to confirm what Tripoli was now claiming before a less captive audience.

"There is no question of the world tollerating the imperialism of the Holy League. If they were alone, the people of Libya and the Indian Soviet Commonwealth would resist until the legions of France and Spain were exhausted. In truth, we fight along side many allies, and victory shall come all the more quickly for it. Libya protects itself, the Indians struggle for human freedom, the British and Australasians fight to avenge great wrongs carried-out against them, and there is more that can not be ignored. Who on earth believes that West Africa will remain French when, for every unit of a given resource consumed by that nation, ten or twenty are required by China alone. Apart from the occupied nations, the fate of countless more depends upon the freedom of a continent.

"European domination of West Africa is going to end, and the forces of occupation will leave or fight to the death.

"Several governments have called into question the right of the Libyan nation to defend itself against genocidal assault. These governments have rightly been ignored. If Tripoli's defences had acted in any way other than that which they did, hundreds of thousands of civilians would have died, and a nation would have collapsed into disorder, ripe for annexation by the murderous dictatorships of the European continent. I am quite confident that continued opposition to the rightness of the defence will lead to more incidents such as the recently reported abduction of a Quinntonian missionary in South India, who was invited to decide whether he should like to be horribly poisoned, or simply burned alive, as he and his government believed was the real choice facing the Libyans when they chose a third option called survival.

"However, in an attempt to defend the Libyan people, the Indian Soviet Commonwealth has gone to considerable lengths to furnish a conventional defence umbrella against further attacks, now threatened by more nations than France alone. These measures leave Indian defences thin and are provided at the unhappy expense of the Indian worker... but this is our solution where Roycelandia, Japan, and the United States have offered only more offensive warfare.

"The Soviet Commune and Colonel Muammar al-Qadhafi have resolved to issue a proposal by which these nations may redeem something of their honour as civilised domains, and it is expected that the General People's Congress will ratify it before long. The Libyan nation has proven itself capable of self defence as things stand, but exercising this capability against a vastly more powerful aggressor has only won the ire of those previously mentioned nations, and so an alternative has been furnished by the Soviets. This, however, is beyond the means of the Libyan nation to sustain, and the Commonwealth sees no reason why its workers should pay for US, Japanese, and Roycelandian policy: the Soviets were perfectly happy with Libya's previously demonstrated defences.

"With all of this in mind, it is evident that Libya's doctrine can only be changed by use of a conventional defence grid that is beyond its means to obtain, and that the only reason to obtain it is pressure by three nations in particular. It is therefore proposed that such governments pay for the transition of Libya's defence doctrine. For approximately two billion US dollars*, Libya could take possession of the six CS-400 Red Sky battalions being established by the Soviet Commune, and -in conjunction with existing conventional air defences- be protected against further strategic assault on its population centres without the need to deploy tactical nuclear weapons. As such, Soviet defence-missile warheads could be withdrawn to the Commonwealth for disassembly.

"If funds are not forthcoming, the budget of a nation with less than six million residents has no room to squeeze two billion dollars for an unnecessary change in defence policy, and the workers of the Commonwealth have nothing to gain either way."


OOC: This does not resolve the fight in Africa, which is about the liberation of West Africa, merely the issue of Libya's continued deployment of tactical nuclear air defences.
*Based on a fuzzy memory I have about India's RL purchase of Russian systems that, actually, are less capable than Red Sky, and as such likely a low estimate, but one that the Commonwealth is suggesting none the less.