NationStates Jolt Archive

The Gathering (http://0201.netclime.net/1_5/B/U/1/wilhelmtheme.mid)

Wilhelm Kaufmann (http://0201.netclime.net/1_5/M/U/2/WilhelmKaufmann1.jpg) sat patiently, watching and waiting. 3 floors of the famous Prattalean Tower were vacated for this special occasion. The Prattalean Tower (http://ladefense.free.fr/1/madridarena/torremutua.jpg) was the world’s tallest free-standing structure, measuring 1750 ft and containing 102 stories. The building was situated in the heart of the Bjornoyan capital, Esthar. One of the CEO’s favorite places of residence, it would at the least impress his guests.

The intentions and will of the meeting were somewhat simple. Many businessmen around the world were growing increasingly weary of the constant and omnipresent threat of war that loomed over their nations. The results were not only unhealthy for the populace, but simply bad for business. Keeping the masses in a constant state of fear worked at times, but only if their attentions could be directed to countless and varied causes of fear; disease, famine, political failures, suffering in general. As his and so many corporations operated, a certain type of suffering was brought to the attention of the public, blown out of proportion, and in time fixed by selling and consuming of various remedies provided conveniently by the very same people who had introduced the supposed suffering to the populace in the first place. It was a beautiful cycle that upheld the spirit of business.

This constant threat of war on the other hand broke the cycle. Whereby the threat of a disease on the populace could be resolved with something other such as a medicine, the threat of war could only be solved by war. Although a short and spirited battle often could bolster a faltering economy all good businessmen knew prolonged and continuous war would be their ruin. Should all out war come and the masses come to realize how much their government and business leaders had failed them they would immediately turn on them. This Marxist threat still loomed even after a century and a half. The threat of war was being felt full force not only by the populace but the business community, and it was not a comfortable situation.

Wilhelm himself was disgruntled by some of the Patriarch’s recent decisions including that overly pompous war in Australia and the decision to let the Empire use Bjornoyan territory as a nuclear testing site. All of these things fueled the already out-of-control fire that the foolish national leaders danced so merrily about.

Should this trend continue Wilhelm knew all hope within the leadership would collapse, maybe not this generation but within a few. Wilhelm dreamt of creating a Conglomerate that could outlast the national government should it fail, or perhaps even subversively take hold of some governmentally controlled functions. Aside from this dream Wilhelm had more reasonable discussions to be had over how to resolve the recent stock market crash. Elephanti businessmen had made a bold move to sell oil at such a cheap price, and their dare paid off. Oil shipments were getting back on track although not at nearly the same rate as before the crash. Wilhelm had followed suit although the effects of his nation’s oil exports would not be as impressive as the Elephanti’s.

Invitations were sent to prominent businessmen like himself from around the world. Businessmen from nations whose economies were not controlled by the government and had similar intentions as himself, who held their loyalty to their country and business over their loyalty to their nation's politicians were welcomed. Wilhelm looked over various solutions as he waited for his guests to arrive.

South-Eastern Namibia


It was now a good number of years into the United States of Brink’s history. Thoughts of the revolution had begun to fade, the effects of invasion almost undetectable. President Farrell had led the nation with the leadership it needed. He had earned his place in USB history, a founding father he would always remain. But that was an earlier time, and in this ever changing world thoughts fall away and new ideas blossom. With this changing of the seasons, if you’d like to call it that, came a new hero. However it was not in the form of a great military leader or the new president for that matter. It was a prominent businessman by the name of Jackro Abiola. Abiola was a small man hailing from the Nama tribe. His faced was aged far greater than it should have been due to the harsh Namibian dessert and hard work. His eyes were drilled deep into his skull and his nose was rusted and small creating and awkward look. His later years however were spent in luxury having built a fortune on the vast mining industries that littered the country. Luckily for him, he was one of the very few who had put their company into the Cuppric stock which wrecked many. The crash still showed its ugly face. One of Abiola’s main industries was Uranium Mining. The national stock had plummeted with the crash. He had averted disaster thanks in part to luck and the fact that the stock had gained so much from the jump off. He now saw himself looking curiously at an invitation. He was never one for international relationships, it was a USB mentality created during Farrell’s term. He would remain on the fence for now.

Abiola had just gotten back from a press conference with President Ovambo. To say the least he wasn’t a happy businessman. Ovambo had a tough job following up Farrell. Most of the county would agree she wasn’t doing a very decent job. Although a lot of the countries problems were not her fault, the crash only fueled the fire. For starters the country needed to expand no matter how you put it. Ovambo had finished the fight in Zimbabwe but had no intentions of fighting anywhere else. Recent laws had driven up taxes. As a result the economy suffered slightly. With the crash the government had gained more power slightly hampering political freedoms. On the other side she had turned a money making country into civil rights love fest, also helped along the by the crash. Nevertheless she had begun to climb back trying to save the country from total meltdown. She introduced massive public works programs including, to the dismay of some, creation of a new naval fleet. Deficit spending increased, and a boatload of new agencies had been formed. To top it off she had created free trade agreements with various countries including Bjornoya. As a result a new agency was formed, the BAE (Business Administration of Economy). It was unique, created by the government, controlled by private business. It was away to get the economy back on its feet with out the government taking total control. If all went well it would only be temporary. And who else to head this organization than Jackro Abiola. Whether he liked it or not he was going to Bjornoya.

John Patrick was a prominent figure. He stood 6'2" and weighed almost 200 pounds, most of it muscle. At 53, he was in better shape than most 20 year olds. He ran twice a week, eight miles each time. He also spent at least an hour a day in the gym at the corporate headquarters for Manchurian Global. Manchurian Global was one of many corporations based in Layarteb and though it was an international group, it had its foundings in Layarteb long before the Empire was founded.

Manchurian Global was a multinational corporation responsible for everything from book publishing to government contracting. There was little their hands did not touch. They weren't linked to the Empire like Umbrella or the Layartebian Defense Corporation and thus their allegiance was to that which corporations put at the top of their list, profit. Manchurian Global was one of the biggest and most successful corporations, thus feeling most of the hit when the stock market went down.

Their CEO was John Patrick and he had been for the past six years. His salary was equal to that of his position as he earned nearly §1.8 million per year. He was definitely the king of kings in the corporate world, which is exactly why he was sent to Esthar in light of the collapse. If anyone could help the Layartebian economy it was definitely Manchurian Global as they were hardest hit.

http://www.theforsakenoutlaw.com/Graphics/Nation-States/Role-Playing/The%20Gathering/gs550.jpg

He travelled on board the company Gulfstream 550, a beautiful, sleek, elegant, and fast aircraft. He almost paid for it himself when he had trouble convincing the board that they needed to replace their aging Learjets. They voted with one vote in favor of buying the Gulfstream 550, perhaps one of their best purchases. As they were flying the Learjet to the seller, it crashed due to engine failure. It was a tragic loss.

When he stepped out of the aircraft in Esthar, he was greeted by a warm welcoming party and he was eager to begin the meeting. He wasn't about to waste any time, he needed to know how to fix this and he needed to know now.

http://www.theforsakenoutlaw.com/Graphics/Nation-States/Role-Playing/The%20Gathering/jpatrick.jpg

Milton Raines was almost on top of the world. He had a glass of Bourbon in one hand, and a bulbous tapered cigar in the other. His tailored suit felt comfortable even 40,000 ft above the earth. He was sitting in his Executive Office on board his personal HirgiCorp Global 747. The plane was surely a sight to behold, completely silver, it looked like a giant silver bullet on the ground, and often emitted such strong rays from the sun the ground crews nearly always wore sunglasses.

http://www.grc.nasa.gov/WWW/K-12/BGA/Monroe/C4a-747-400.gif

Milton sat in HCG-01, one of several Company 747's, which were stationed all over the Commonwealth. Milt's was usually always stationed in a sprawling hangar and terminal complex at Llongwe International. In addition to being the head of HirgiCorp Global, Milton was also the Mayor of Llongwe.

Milton had, certainly, led an adventurous life. Leaving hom at 18 he joined the National Army and then the Marine Corps, serving in both the Heavy Marine Division and Marine Force Recon. At 45 he was still lean and mean, the plush bespoke suit showing his near perfect physique. Milt left the Marines at 35 and joined a HirgiCorp drilling expidition around Cape Verde. HirgiCorp however, had other plans. They sent him to the finest Commonwealth Universities and after having attained several degrees he was promoted to the Board and was looking to a career in the Government's Department of Corporations when he threw his hand onto the table and went for HirgiCorps top job.

After nearly a year he got it. He had steered HirgiCorp since he was 41 and had helped the massive conglomerate go from strength to strength. Now the company was the 2nd largest in the Commonwealth and perhaps one of the largest Corporations in the world. HirgiCorps had its business everywhere, from drilling and mining to fine goods and textiles, to food and medicine, as well as weaponry, technology and real estate.

Recently the company had panicked as it watched the BISE tumble almost overnight. Milton thought the company he loved would tumble aswell, he almost started to think about bankruptcy protection as Layarteb's Manchurian Global took a major blow from the stock crash. But Hirgizstanian Stocks remained solid and the Corporativist state triumphed again.

In all honesty Milt was glad to be getting away from Hirgizstan City, too many Department of Corporations meetings and too much non-company work. He would get a chance now, to meet some of the biggest businessmen in the world. He knew most of them, if not personally then casually from business deals. Visara and Manchurian Global were well known to him.

As Milt was looking out the window, puffing contentedly on the tapered cigar, his head felt light and he knew the plane was descending. Within a half hour the gigantic 747 was on the ground.

Milt's personal car was removed from the rear storage bay and the ex Military Hummer, now jet black, was driven round to the steps and Milt hurriedly jumped in the back and was sped off toward the Prattalean Tower, something he had wanted to see for years.

http://www.danielwiener.com/daniel/tips/archives/humvee_2.jpg

Orkla was a massive corporation in the Realm of Cotland which did just about everything there was to do, from oil and defense-related businesses to computer software and building ships. Orkla were the parent corporation of Laksevag Naval Shipyards, a business that had been especially hard hit with the recent crash. Because of the crash, which had significant effects on the Cottish economy, the CEO of Orkla, 48-year old Tormod Grane was in the custom-built Airbus A320-400.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/9/9f/Kjell_Inge_Røkke.jpg
Tormod Grane

http://www.e-flight.com/airbus/a320-air.jpg
The personal A320-400

Grane was a veteran in the business-world, having risen to the position of CEO quickly. He was in a decent shape, but nothing near how he was twenty years earlier when he left the military intelligence and joined Orkla. The contacts he had from his military service had been invaluable for his career, having used them to dig up everything possible on the opponents and then talked to them quietly and blackmailed the opposition. Nine times out of ten, he got the result he wanted, which was money. It wasn't entirely legal, but he made sure not to get caught, as there were very harsh punishments for economic blackmail.


The Airbus landed and taxied over to the tarmac. Waiting till the two turbine engines had winded down before he exited the plane, Grane checked his laptop once more before he exited and headed for the back of the plane, where the largest modification was shown. The A320 had been fitted with a hatch and cargohold large enough to hold his personal silver metallic Mercedes-Benz S500.

http://www.laroyale-sa.ch/images/limousine/s500.jpg
The Mercedes-Benz S500

The car had been taken out and prepared for the road, with the driver/personal bodyguard already in place behind the wheel. Grane nodded to the driver as he approached and got in.

"You know where to go, don't you?"

"Yes sir."

There was no need to say anything else. Grane was a patient man, and very good and loyal to his employees. That was why he could do so many questionable things and get away with it. That, and the huge payments there was in Orkla for even the most unimportant job, such as the mailboy, who could make up to K20, or $33.54 per hour. The wages were massive in comparison to other businesses, and no one in their right mind would want to lose that kind of payment. For instance, the driver made K875,000 every year. For that, he was more than willing to put his life on the line to protect his boss. Fortunately, the boss knew to appreciate his staff, and he treated them with courtesy and respect. That was why they enjoyed a nice conversation while they drove to the Prattalean Tower.

The guests would end up driving through Esthar (http://0302.netclime.net/1_5/922213/1140567794_28370/Esthar.jpg) and with it see some spectacular sights. Only a few blocks away approaching Prattalean Towera was the sprawling Esthar Garden (http://0302.netclime.net/1_5/922145/1140567261_26910/EstharGarden.jpg), a training grounds for the countless Visara Co. Security Forces. Guarding every Visara Co. building were dozens of security forces; a haunting reminder that they now outnumbered Bjornoyan Federal troops.

The base of the Prattalean Tower was surrounded by the Visaran Sanctuary (http://0101.netclime.net/1_5/0/T/I/PrivateGardens.jpg). Wilhelm’s peculiar taste to the color blue echoed throughout the entire city that he forged from a rotting, decaying antique to the outstanding modernized city that was Esthar.

For the duration of their stay his guests would be given priority treatment at the Hotel Bjornoya (http://0302.netclime.net/1_5/922144/1140567239_26910/HotelBjornoya.jpg), the finest and most grandiose hotel within the city. Only a few minutes away was the Esthar Opera House (http://0101.netclime.net/1_5/Z/1/T/EstharOperaHouse.jpg), famous for its choral performances. A superb performance of Faust was currently playing in the theatre.

The notably bad food in Bjornoya would be replaced with fresh imports. Argentinean, Californian, and German wines filled vast wine vaults and were offered to the guests free alongside fine Cuban cigars. Fresh seafood from around the world including Japanese delicacies and fresh lobster from the North American east coast were available as well as fine venison, veal, and prime-rib from the Bjornoyan mainland. Rare German, Dutch, and Irish brews and liquors would hopefully be satisfactory. Micronesian tea and African grown coffee beans were used in various mixtures to create well-rounded drinks. For some it was a normal situation but imported foods were a rare delicacy to the Bjornoyan populace.

Wilhelm looked through the newspaper as he waited for his final guests to arrive. ‘Amgen Co. Genetically Engineers the First Saddled Flightless Bird: The Chocobo’ Wilhelm sighed and wondered what the hell was going on in his country. Perhaps he was giving Amgen’s CEO a bit to much leniency if he could waste precious capital on creating a stupid bird.

(ooc: detailed post to come tommorow, but I am sending someone)

The Black Hummer drove in under the massibe awning of the Hotel Bjornoya. Milton stepped out, still smoking his splendid cigar. An aide and Bodyguard stepped out beside him aswell, and they proceeded up into the entrance hall of the extremely grandoise hotel. Milt took one look back outside, pausing to look at the Tower building, towering above the city. He couldn't wait to get into the building for the meetings, the view, he suspected, would be spectacular.

The hotel receptionist personally led Milt and his bodyguard to their huge Suite Room on an ostensibly high floor, with a great view of the city. Milton's aide arrived some seconds later behind a bus-boy carrying the luggage. Milton had his aide tip both the Receptionist and the Busboy 20 Geld each.

The Bodyguard and Aide both retired to adjoining rooms and Milt finished up his cigar while looking around the gigantic suite. He turned on the TV and listened to the Hirgizstanian News Channel as he walked around the room, looking out at the city every now and again. A selection of fine wines and foods had been placed on various tables about the room, as well as a selection of finest Burbourn.

Jake resisted the urge to open up a couple of the different foodstuffs and instead felt the urge to get out of the suit he was wearing. He virtually ripped off the tie and shirt, and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and white linen shirt. In all honesty Milt hated suits. He rarely wore one except when in the capital attending Department of Corporations meetings. But when he gave his twice monthly HirgiCorp addresses to the Company he wore a pair of jeans and usually a shirt or T-Shirt, Milt made his own rules basically.

Once changed he settled in to watch the News, a book perched on the chair beside him and a glass of fine Burboun on a nearby table.

Bump

Bump: waiting to see if Rome and/or Elephantum shows up. If not we'll start on Tuesday.

(OOC: Sorry for the delay.)

Doha International Airport

Doha Int'l was the favorite airport for Gulf area buisness exectutives. Manama and Dharan had too many restrictions, and the Emirati airports were always delayed. As such, it was that airport that Jaafar Ubaidi, CEO of the AOPRC (Arabian Oil Pumping and Refining Co.) would leave from on his flight to Esthar. AOPRC was one of the Gulf's most sucessful companies, dominating two of the four major industries (Oil Pumping, Oil Refining, Shipping, and Shipbuilding) and he was listed as being the 4th richest man in the nation. As such, he flew on a privately designed buisness jet that was essentially a luxury apartment with a cockpit and wings. He knew he would be late, and that most of the other buisnessmen would have already arrived, but he had just finished a conference in Muscat with various Elephanti buisness leaders. AOPRC's stock, while not listed on foriegn markets, had plummeted, and they only kept the oil pumping so that people would have something to do. They were losing money now, but the massive supply would come in handy. The government was buying as much of it as possible, and storing it in a special reserve.

The plane taxied to the runway, and Jaafar spent the next several hours reading the works of al-Bahraini, the famous Arab philosopher.

Where are we with this?

Was waiting for Rome, got stalled after Jolt shot itself in the face... got two tests tomorrow but I'll get this started Monday afternoon.

OOC: March is going to be an extremely complicated month for me. I'm still in for this but my activity's going to be limited.

Start without me, I'm sorry I didn't say this earlier.