NationStates Jolt Archive

[ooc:] This thread is the continuation of Death to Democracy.

Participants should be limited to Czardas, CAD members and allies, any Woodstock Pact nations that want to join, and any other participants in the RP not mentioned so far (The Silver Sky, Yurka, Mauvasia, &c.).

[ic:]

A few things we ought to explain about the rather unusual title of this thread.

First off, the phoenix. Now, you people are probably asking, did you just pick random words and throw them together to create the title? You bet we did, but that's beside the point. The phoenix, after all, is the symbol of rebirth—in a way the rebirth of the Czardaian "government" after its involvement in a devastating war. Baptism by fire, so to speak.

Next we come to Athens. We're not talking about the Greek city (or even less so the one in Georgia), but rather a symbol for education, learning, and culture. This would be, of course, the rather ... unique ... culture of Czardas, made up of many different nationalities thrown together in a melting pot and coming out a heterogenous mixture resembling something you really don't want to know about. And, if you remember your history at this point, Athens was conquered by the warlike Sparta, here a metaphor for our friends and enemies, the CAD (which contrary to popular belief does not stand for "Coalition Against Democracy". Or maybe it does? We never cared to find out and risk the wrath of masses of soldiers yelling inspirational slogans in a 2000-year-old language.).

The peace conference, you guessed it, stands for a peace conference. And not without a good reason either. An estimated 1.5 million Czardaians had died within the space of a month, possibly even more. The vast majority of these were civilians. In addition, literally trillions of nazarins' worth of damage had been caused, including four major cities completely razed to the ground, a vast forest completely incinerated, and over two hundred of 362 naval ships sunk or beached. The figure becomes somewhat less impressive when you divide it by 11.5973 to get it into USD, but it's still up there.

It should come as no surprise, therefore, that the Provisional Government at Adarion has been transported back to Czarna to meet with Warmasterian and other CAD officials in Congress Hall, to negotiate the terms of surrender. Foreign Minister Kari Alhoun, the new Defense Minister Henrik A. Ogden, and the newly promoted Commander in Chief, Adrian Longleaf, are all among the delegation slowly approaching Czarna in a single Annuvin transport airship. Also there is Secretary-General Jan Delatoire, looking extremely tired.

The airship touches down gently in the ridiculously massive plaza at one end of which Congress Hall towers, and the delegation exits, climbing the stairs into the building. The airship lifts off again as a brief message is sent to the improvised air traffic control tower—really a small room on an upper level whose radars have been converted—allowing any foreign delegations automatic clearance to land in the middle of the square.

Oh, and what about the metal, you ask? Well, naturally, due to the end of fighting the Czardaians are going to rejoice and march through the streets playing the national anthem... and ... well... you don't seriously think they'd stick with the same one for all 700 years?

Grant Haffner's first assignment after his leave of absence came to a halt was one in which his propensity for allowing his mouth to get him in trouble could prove fatal for thousands. Or it could prove to be a blessing in disguise. With an admonishment not to comment on issues related to Paci-Sarzonian relations ringing in his ears, the Deputy Senior Vice President and External Affairs Officer was set to fly in Sarzonia Four to Czarna.

His mission was a simple one: To show the flag of the Woodstock Pact, the alliance whose namesake was the capital of his own country. But far more importantly, he was to make clear that Sarzonia would support Czardas the best way it could. While the economy didn't lend itself to a dramatic increase in military spending to prepare for war, nor did it allow for much humanitarian aid to flow forth from Sarzonia, even the greatest fool knew that a wounded animal was an extreme danger. And Sarzonia certainly qualified as a wounded animal.

While Sarzonia was flying under a proverbial flag of truce, the Incorporated Sarzonian military was taking no chances. A full flight of modified F-21 Coronet air superiority fighters was escorting Sarzonia Four to Czarna with the rest of a squadron launched from the ISS Peligro which had sailed with its escort group to international waters just outside of Czardas's own. Should the peace negotiations break down, the military's main objective was to secure Haffner's safety. A squadron led by the now-legendary warship ISS Potomac was set to get underway from Portland to show that Sarzonia would be prepared in the event the worst case scenario broke out.

"Are we nearing Czarna?"

"No, Grant." Haffner stood up and paced around the cabin, much to the chagrin of his aide. He'd taked to Haffner repeatedly about his nervous habit, especially since the pilots were specific about not wanting that sort of movement in the cabin during a descent. But even if Sarzo himself had asked him to sit down, there was little doubt Haffner would have a hard time complying. He just had too much nervous energy built up to deny himself this simple release.

"Air traffic control, this is Sarzonia Four. Request permission to land, over."

And so it began.

"Sarzonia Four granted permission to land, but watch out for those statues down there, over."

Turning Democracy Plaza into a single massive airfield is a rather difficult assignment. Two large statues of creatures resembling both lions and dragons—although closer to the latter—guard the steps leading up to Congress Hall. Several other statues of great leaders will make the landing a tight squeeze. Considering that the main Czardaian airports have either been closed, used for military operations, or simply bombed into oblivion, there is really little choice. Making the landing difficult will be the cobbled floor of the plaza; however, as it is the length of a football field, those will be the only real issues.

Imperial II Armada

With the official capitulation of the Czardaians several weeks prior (using fluid time here), the II Armada had arrived without incident to the Czardaian mainland. Unloading operations of personel and equipment went rather smoothly, and now that the Czardaians had surrendered, local supply bases could be used in feeding the troops and fueling the armor.

The commander in chief of the force was a general by the name of Septimus Severus, soon to be named Procurator of Czardium Doomanum (the Doomingslandian name for Czardas, which was now considered a semi-autonomous province, although full division of governing duties would be divided amongst the victorious CAD nations).

A full wing of ACI-73D Aquilas would, in a blatent show of force, escort five ACI-68 VTOL transports to the area that was designated as the conference area. General Severus was not going to take any chances in this instance. That, and he wanted the Czardaians to know that they were there to stay.

Severus was a towering man of fifty-five years of age. His short-cut, greying hair gave him the look of a seasoned old veteran. And that he was. He had served with the legions his whole life, like all of his comrades. His status as a noble, however, meant that he would easily rise through the ranks as an officer.

This was not without bloodshed. He had bled for the Empire on numerous occasions, and had a steel plate embedded in his skull to prove it. He wasn't much of a joker, and the Czardaians would no doubt find him to be somewhat humorless.

His transport was a VIP transport version of the Banshee VTOL aircraft, and he flew towards the meeting in relative comfort. He slept most of the time, knowing his energy would be needed. The passenger compartment of the aircraft wasn't the most spacious of areas, but for him, it was more than enough. Better than being stuck in the cramped confines of a Testudo armored personel carrier the whole ride.

Within his transport were his aids, Legates Marcus and Herius. These were two of his most trusted friends, having fought along side him in battle on numerous occasions.

Marcus, being the more talkative of the three, was the first to initiate conversation as the aircraft began to near Czarna,

"These Czardians...how formiddable are they in combat?" he woundered aloud.

Herius, slumped back against his seat, his helmet tipping over his face, replied sarcastically, "My friend, they base all of their power on that of their aircraft. What does that say of them?"

Marcus chuckled in response, "Yes, but do we not also posses a potent airforce, Herius?"

"I admit, our air power is among the strongest in the world. However, this is merely a side effect of being God's chosen people" he said, quite seriously.

"I just hope those heathen bastards know when they are conquered. Although I do admit, I always loved crushing a good rebellion." replied Marcus.

"Will you two please shut up? You can judge the infidel barbarians when we meet them in person." Severus finally said, breaking his silence.

The other two, not wanting to further annoy their superior, chose to take his advice. They'd be landing within the hour. They might as well had gotten ready.

The men were all clad in finely polished black armor, wearing their Gladii on their left sides. Their helms, while purely ceremonial (as was obvious by the red crests that clearly denoted them as important), were also fully functional, as was the rest of their armor. Even their blades were fully sharpened. They didn't quite know what to expect.

Space Union's Foreign Minister, Harman Sidhu, watched as the clouds passed his aircraft above Czardas. Harman glanced at his aids who were seated directly in-front of him, facing him. Between them was a small, pale white table that allowed them to work on. The Union-One was fully equipped to take government officials on world-wide tours, including this one.

"Well, Mr. Sidhu, it seems that these Czardas are in need of help," spoke up Tom Carsho, one of Sidhu's senior aids.

"Yes, well, that's what were here for," replied Sidhu as he picked up his coffee mug and sipped it, letting the steaming liquid enter his body and wake him up in the early hours of the flight, "Hopefully we can assert some pressure to have those damn CAD nations lay off."

"Considering we had to leave before the fighting broke out, I'm not sure how exactly you expect to put much pressure," said Tom.

"We didn't pull of fright, we pulled out of because at that time our economy had been flushed down the tiolet. Do not tell me you think a nation can fight a war during a depression."

"No, but they might not know that."

"If they don't, they must not be that smart."

Tom shot Harman a large smirk at the comment and turned away to look out of the window. He could see the outline of the city of Czarna. It was in ruins from what he could tell, though, in far better shape than the rest of the nation.

Around the Union-One were a group of six SuF/A-6C/D Wraith Advanced Air Superiority fighters. This was the first time the outside world had got a glimpse of the awesome fighter, with most escorts being the old SuF-2 Archangel. But this was declared a very important and dangerous meeting that only a Wraith fighter could deal with, especially considering that there were enemies like Doominglsand coming.

The pilot ascended the gleaming white and black aircraft down as it neared the airport of the city. He immediately radioed in, "This is Union-One, we wish for confirmation to land at Runway 2. Roger and Out."

Things were about to get heated.

[ooc:] Sorry everyone.... I probably won't be able to post tonight. I have an exam to study for and a load of other shit to complete. I expect to be able to whip something up tomorrow though.

Oh yeah... and just to clear it up... everyone else is automatically cleared for landing; just read the above posts to get the general feel of the plaza you'll be landing in.

The war was over.

Bandurian Legionnaires were exultant in their victory, the Bandurian Flag raised on a pole above all the other allied flags in order, as a semi-wild party raged atop almost every ship. Each of millions of soldiers and sailors knew that, while they may not have seen very much combat, they had taken part in a glorious victory... and if the Imperium got its way, the acquisition of a new colony-protectorate.

As the ships began to dock to refuel at Palma, so many of them—over two thousand, most of which were combat—that not all could dock at the same time. Grand Admiral Nausicus, accompanied by his bodyguards, was transported in an IH-17 'Skyboat' transport helicopter, escorted by a full squadron of IF-24A 'Wyvern' air superiority fighters towards Czarna.

The formation whistled through the sky at high subsonic speeds, reaching the Czardaian capital in a matter of minutes, one of a number of delegations swiftly approaching the city. Nausicus and his few aides spoke little or not at all during the journey. They knew their instructions well. Although they would not actually get to kill the Czardaians, the Grand Admiral smiled wryly... He could easily look the other way from the Legionnaires'... doings... in the area.

Within minutes, the Imperial air flight was approaching Czarna, requesting clearance for landing...

Gyrobot's personal Warplane the Skywatcher has enter the premises of the nation of Czardas. He feel regrettful for deserting the nation during the war, but he was FT so his role in defending Czardas was at best limited, gyrobot hopes to use the conference to make ammends with the Czardas government. Gyrobot sends a message to the control tower "This is the Recanic Republic's president, permission to land, over"

The V.B.S. Jericho's engines shuttered to a halt, its inertia taking the mighty ship towards the intended destination - approximately 50 miles outside of what was once Czardaian territorial waters. Moments now, a Voltaru Jet would pass overhead, and the V-13 "Twin Tail" fighters would change guard on its final descent towards Czarda. Admiral Dera Saltrow stood staring out of the ops deck, eyeing the rest of the 7th fleet forming around her flagship. It seemed like yesterday that she had been in this part of the world - the Jericho had dropped anchor for mere weeks before it was called back from protecting Czardas' borders. And here she was again - this time to hopefully pay witness to the salvation of the Czardaian people.

Dera looked up to the sky and grinned. If it was one thing she loved about her people - being late was never an issue. She watched as the new squadron of escorts took off from her deck, and the reserves landed on the V.B.S. Woodstock.

What amounted to a prayer in the Voltarum whispered across her lips as the last jet left the deck: Fortune Favors the Bold...

***

"Damnit, Xerco owes me one for this trip. How much longer do we have Cara? It feels like we should be back in Antarctica by now." The middle aged, attractive brunette shifted in her plush seat. Her heals off, surrounded by candy wrappers and three empty water bottles, she turned toward the window in frustration.

Sarcasm not lost, her companion, a slightly younger women with golden hair, sighed for the hundredth time since she had gotten on the plane. "Aly, if the Premier owes anyone ANYTHING, its sure as hell me for being stuck with YOU on this flight." She too looked out the window. "Those would be the reserves coming in from the 7th fleet - we should be in Czarda anytime now, Ambassador."

"And the Sarzonians?"

"They have already arrived. As have the Space Union delegation. It appears the Premier had more success with the Pact members than he had hoped."

"Diplomacy is cheap, Cara. But I am glad we have a showing as a group here, and I plan to be more of a presence than anything else. Hopefully it will bring some sort of pressure on those CAD bastards."

"Indeed. Anything you need before we land?"

"No... I just need to spend some time mentally preparing myself." She smirked at her aide and bodyguard. "You have never been in negotiations with the CAD, have you? Well, get ready for the mightiest pile of bullshit you will ever hear."

Ambassador Extraordinary Alynda Halati smiled, closed her eyes, and began to concentrate on the upcoming task.

The Union-One landed with a loud thud as it screamed to the end of the runway while its six escort SuF/A-6D came up behind and landed far more gently. The elegant but deadly birds taxied off the runway as they got near where the rest of the foreign delegate ports where. The pilot instantly recognized Sarzonian and The Voltarum aircrafts and docked it near. The Wraiths followed up as they taxied over with the other friendly fighters but not getting close enough the enemies to have a detailed look at the birds. As far as Space Union was concerned, the less the enemy knew, the better life would be.

Harman exited the aircraft as he climbed through the terminal shuttle and into the airport. His aids and bodyguards, each equipped with a standard issued sub-automatic rifles carbines, flanked him. He went through the security checks before being led out of the airport and into the a black limo at the gates. As the passengers shuffled into the limo, it quickly sped away. The ride was most silent with only greetings being exchanged between the passengers. Harman watched as the ruins of the city flashed by him in the bombed areas, though, most of the city seemed unscratched. Finally they arrived at a Hall. The bodyguards got out as they stood at the door, on each side with Harman and the others immediately coming out.

The building was the place all the things would happen. With little time to spare, he and the others rushed to the conference hall to be greeted by the delegates from each nation. He scanned the room to see mostly enemy before noticing the Sarzonian officials. He smiled at Haffner as he sat down, with his aids flanking him. The two delegates chatted on their joint goals at the conference and overall Woodstock Pact policy in the conference.

More and more aircrafts and delegations begin to arrive in Czarna. As Krîaberg Int'l Airport was being used by the CNAF and Ianus Idi had been shelled into oblivion by the Freudotopian Navy, they are forced to land in the centre of the plaza outside Congress Hall. Doomingslander, Voltaru, Space Unionist, and Bandurian ([ooc:] Gyrobot, I'll let you in if you stay MT on this.) aircrafts are confirmed for landing in quick succession, dropping off their delegates and then flying off to a proper airfield, the nearest one located atop a mountain some four hundred kilometres away.

Kari Alhoun waits near the door for the delegates to arrive. The first ones to enter the hall are the Space Unionists. He greets Harman Sidhu with his traditional cordiality.

Alynda Halati disembarked from her plane, followed closely by her aide and guard. The 40-something Alynda wore the traditional robes of the Voltaru Ambassadorial Court, although she made a quick note to herself that a lighter garment would be needed, and soon. Despite her many years traveling abroad, everyplace still was hotter than home. Her long brown hair sat neatly in a bun with two long bangs framing her blue eyes and nearly makeup-less face. She took long strides towards what could only be the meeting place, nearly laughing out loud upon seeing the ornamental statues lining the plaza.

Following close behind was her aide, Cara. On the outside she appeared to be a younger, blonder version of the Ambassador. Indeed, many of the Ambassador's acquaintences took her for nothing more than a typical aide, whose most dangerous qualities were her looks. What many did not know, however, was that she was also a trained House guard, serving the House of Halati since she was a teenager. The code of the guard, and their innate ability to defend a charge, pulsed throughout her body with every stride she took toward the conference hall. Her muscular body - and assortment of knives - lay hidden under the flowing orange and teal robes of her House; her long blond hair braided in an elaborate bun. As she walked closely behind the Ambassador, she observed what she could of her surroundings, eyes darting around seemingly faster than a hummingbird on speed.

She caught a glimpse of the Space Unionist delegation ahead, turning a corner into what could only be the meeting place. She interrupted the short trek to inform the Ambassador - "I believe the conference hall is just up ahead, Ambassador. I think the Space Unionist delegation are just ahead of us..."

The Ambassador responded in a hushed voice: "Yes, and I think the Doomies are already here too..."

A raised eyebrow from Cara.

"I can smell their arrogance at 100 meters, my dear. Come. Hopefully Hafner is already here as well... "

As the Voltaru delegates approach Congress Hall, several SpecOps clad in the blue and silver Czardaian uniforms emerge from the massive steps, greeting the delegation with a few words of welcome and leading them into the lobby. The hall, while brownstone on the outside, is made of extravagant marble floors with oak paneling on the walls and chandeliers adorning the ceiling, with a classical simplistic complexity. Somewhere in the background ragtime plays faintly, contrasting sharply with an equally faint punk rock emanating from the other side of the large room. Assorted delegates are already waiting in the lobby: Space Unionist, Bandurian, Doomingslander, and Sarzonian among others, not to mention the Czardaians themselves.

The SpecOps motion the Voltaru delegates to seats even as a message comes across the messaging system in Pacitalian; the language switches to Czardaian and then something that sounds vaguely Sindarin before an English translation comes across the radios: "We apologise for the inconvenience. The conference will begin shortly when all the delegates have arrived. Meanwhile, feel free to fraternise with your fellow delegates in the lobby. Music requests should be text-messaged to *******, area code ***."

The two conflicting musics resume faintly in the background.

Conference Hall, Czarda

Severus swaggered down the loading ramp of the aircraft, his two aids in trail behind him. As he passed into the sunlight, the solar rays bounced off of his meticulously polished black armor, creating an almost dazzling spectacle. His helmet sat firmly upon his steel-embedded skull. He stretched and grunted.

He hated peace conferences.

His red cape draped to the ground below, the one thing, aside from his physical bulk, that distinuished him from Marcus and Herius. Severus took a whiff of the air and scoweled,

"Barbarians..." he muttered to his comrades, "Their revolting stench travels quite a ways, my friends."

His face was dead serious and conveyed no emotion. His piercing brown eyes scanned the other parties. Voltaru, Bandurians, Sarzonians, and Spacians. He suddenly felt his head throb as he eyed the Sarzonian party with utter contempt, and with good reason. He had gotten that metal plate in his head in Inkana thanks to a chunk of Sarzonian shrapnel.

Forming up on his left and right were units of the Equites Singulares, Legionaries whose specific duty was the protection of the generals. These men were impressive in and of themselves. They moved as one hulking machine with inhuman precision, forming up in two solid blocks on the left and right of the officers. There were eighty of them present, their bulky black Roman-esque armor gleaming in the sun, their hardened, scarred faces concealed behind armored masks, the red visors making them seem all the more sinister and intimidating.

Razor-sharp bayonets were affixed to their DR-83 rifles, which they kept close, seemingly locked in their hands, all the men holding them towards the sky identically, as they moved in perfect formation along side the men under their protection. They had live rounds in the chambers, but the safeties were on. For now.

The party moved forward with a single purpose: the total surrender and occupation of Czardas. Their armored boots clanked against the ground as one, creating a steady, indimitating beat. This would be a sound that the Czardians would be getting used to, should Severus accomplish his objectives.

As they moved toward the hall, Centurions barked orders in Latin in harsh voices, passing through their masks and coming out sounding almost like demons. The Doomies were in town.

As the Doomies approach Congress Hall, several Czardaian SpecOps exit the hall to meet them, climbing down the marble stairs and greeting the Doomies respectfully in perfect Latin. They too betray no emotion at the sight of the black-armored troops and delegates—they have seen combat in many nations, and this is not a surprise—rather escorting the group through the hall into the lobby, where the other delegations are waiting. In the background the two musics jangle against each other, ragtime against punk rock, although in a few minutes the ragtime changes to something Late Romantic. The Doomingslanders enter just as the quatrilingual public service announcement comes across the intercom.

The Imperial aircraft touched down in the centre of the plaza, skidding to a halt with the natural expertise arising from the grueling training of every pilot in the Imperial Navy. Grand Admiral Nausicus emerged into the light of day, looking rather bored. He was an Admiral, after all... peace conferences were not his métier, although he had studied diplomacy under the great Archon Barantsa'i, ruler of Chisaraei Archonate, and if all went well soon to be promoted to the colonial governor of Bandurian Czardas.

Nausicus was flanked by an impressive guard. Two Black Shadowers and four Silver Shadowers accompanied him, eerily futuristic in their appearance. The Black Shadowers were encased entirely in battlesuits of black, with mini-turrets capable of firing automatically fed .22 armour-piercing rounds extending from several positions. They wielded heavy machine guns and grenade rifles. The most elite troops in the Imperial Army, their aim was guided with IR smartlinks, the helmets covering their heads equipped with low light sensors, magnification, and other advanced systems making them highly formidable opponents on the battlefield. Silver Shadowers were almost as well equipped, although their armour was not quite as heavy, but they were still hard as hell to kill. In addition, all Shadowers had been genetically altered... each one was close to two meters in height, highly resilient to all forms of disease, immune to propaganda and psychological warfare, or even psychic warfare on a Novan scale.

The Shadowers, despite their heavy armour and armament, moved almost silently. Nausicus watched them with approval as he conversed with his aides.

"So who else is expected to be at this conference?"

An aide ran over a sheet of paper with his finger. "Besides the CAD...Sarzonia, Space Union, and Voltarum are attending."

"Defending those damned fools, eh? I'm not surprised," Nausicus said with some humour. "No matter, I know enough to get us our colony-protectorate without too much difficulty." He smiled and glanced towards the hall as he and his escorts approached it, chuckling at the sight of the ridiculous statues. Who did these Czardaians think they were? An important nation? They were only fooling themselves if so.

"Remind me to ask for this city in our zone of Czardas," Nausicus said. "I wouldn't mind teaching these anarchist barbarians a thing or two."

The delegation neared the stairs and began to enter the building.

OOC: All CAD allies, TG me about your expected claims or whatever. We've gotta sort all this out, after all.

IC: The triumphant Lord Rahvin had wisely turned about after broadcasting the news of the war's end to all forces, preferring to make an entrance instead. For this reason, he was not taking an airplane. On the contrary, he was marching at the head of a column of all 12,000 Immortals and 120,000 of the Legionaries. Heavy armor flanked the procession as they entered Czarna. Rahvin could not suppress a grin as he saw the expressions on the faces of the defeated Czardaians: hate, rage, despair...an amusing sight.

The Silver Sky, Voltarum, and Space Union would all attend, backing up Czardas, no doubt. He could almost laugh. Their collective bargaining power was nonexistent. Czarna and all north Czardas was in the iron fist of the Imperium. If they resisted, he would flood the whole country with the blood of the infidels.

Most of the allies would no doubt expect large swathes of land. Well, he'd take care of that, but it remained to be seen whether he could satisfy them all. Sacred Emperor Lucifer, however, would judge it with all the divine wisdom he possessed.

Deeper into the city marched the Legions. Deeper past the beaten mob. The long column of soldiers, the banners of the Imperium and many clans and Domains waving above them, slowly continued on its way to the conference site.

[ooc:] Czarna is inaccessible by land. You remember all those defenses set up outside? 2 million+ troops dug in amid hundreds of machine gun nests, pillboxes, trenches miles long filled first with water and then jellyfish, electric eels, and/or piranhas, SAM batteries, AAA and self-propelled artillery... you'll have to get in by plane, because there hasn't been enough time yet to dismantle everything. The war only ended a few weeks ago, jeesh. I'll accept your landing within the walls on some exceptionally wide boulevard and dropping all the troops you want, but this just won't work for a month or two.

bump

OOC: Ah. All right. That kind of slipped my mind...Sorry. Nonetheless, it's kind of in character for the Legions to march through the streets thoroughly enjoying themselves, so...Let's just assume like you said that they were all airlifted behind the defenses and assembled for a while before this little parade. And having assumed that, let's get on with the conference.

IC: Lord Rahvin's mouth quirked with distaste as he stared up at the Czardaian Congress Hall. None of the true majesty of the Imperial Palace or the Sanctum of the Hierarchs was here, in this godforsaken city. Tossing down a swig whiskey, he began walking up the steps toward the doors, with 120 Immortals following. The rest waited outside for the conclusion of the conference.

Striding up to the exterior doors, he pushed his way through and looked for someone to tell him where the actual meeting room was.

The Minister of State for Foreign Affairs, Douglas Home, arrived in Czarna late aboard a Gannet COD aircraft escorted by two flights of Scimitar fighters and four Cormorant helicopters from the HINMS Union. He had travelled hence to lend his support to Czardas and listen to a language he had long loved being butchered by barely civilised hordes. He bore witness to the pomp and ceremony of the supposed victors, of their arrogance and vainglory. With a company of Royal Marines in full battle armour behind him, he ventured forth to the Congress Hall.

Lord Rahvin finds himself in the lobby, where other groups are already gathered, waiting for the actual conference to begin. From two antiphonal loudspeakers, music is playing—one faintly blasting thrash metal, the other one something of Shostakovich's later works. Just as the Warmasterian Lord begins to adjust to the new atmosphere, an announcement comes across the intercom yet again. This time it goes through incarnations in many different languages: Farsi, Tagalog, Czardaian, Xhosa, Esperanto... before finally appearing in English: "The conference is to begin now. Please follow the Special Operatives into the conference room."

Four of these appear to materialise at the entrance to the lobby, clad in the traditional blue and silver uniforms. The Czardaian SpecOps guide the groups up an elevator onto the fourth floor, past rows of offices, through a heavy set of double doors, and down a stairway into a massive, amphitheatre-like room. As the bodyguards seat themselves in chairs arranged around the perimeter, one of the SpecOps removes a ceremonial ribbon, letting the actual delegations into the center of the bowl, where a long semicircular table is located. Kari Alhoun, Jan Delatoire, Henrik Ogden, and other top Czardaian officials are already seated on the other side of the table, facing the newcomers; the delegations will sit opposite.

The room itself is a magnificent display of Czardaian culture. Pieces of high-quality artwork adorn the walls, while the high vaulted ceiling is frescoed with scenes that would make experienced hookers blush. Light is provided from discreet electric outlets rather than the ornamental chandeliers; one notices, at any rate, that one of the chains that once carried a chandelier has been broken off, creating an awful mess at one point. Glass cases displaying assorted manuscripts and old books are placed strategically around the room, while ridiculously ostentiatious Corinthian columns adorn both entrances.

Top Czardaian military personnel are seated opposite the entrance from which the delegations entered, including the entirety of the 14th Special Operative Division, just in case they happen to be needed. Their weapons are very well concealed, but it is still a sign to the CAD that they have not quite finished with Czardas yet.

The Isselmere-Nielander Minister for Foreign Affairs arrives just after this sortie from the lobby, and is guided in by an Under-Secretary to the Assistant Deputy Vice-Minister of Defense, and seated accordingly. The seat plan is carefully chosen: CAD members and Czardaian supporters are seated well apart from each other on both ends of the crescent, although both opposite the Czardaians themselves.

Tagged this thread has been. Coming soon a post is.

--Yoda

Lord Rahvin seated himself at the table, a few aides next to him, but his guards spread out around the room. The Czardaians were seated opposite all delegates, even from their supporters.

Leaning back, he took another swig of whiskey, and glanced around. More of the delegates were arriving; they would all be here within a few minutes. Pulling out an MP3 player, he pulled it out and began listening to Iron Maiden's Rime of the Ancient Mariner at a volume that would kill a lesser man.

As soon as the delegates had arrived, Rahvin would begin the conference.

OOC: Sorry, flu. Yurka is sure that uhh peace can once again return to the world now that this threat to stability is gone.

"I hope that this will be a decisive day."

"No doubts about it," Colonel-General Jonkares Moranoes nodded in agreement as he trotted down a hallway towards the Congress Hall, his boots clanking softly against the polished surfaces of the marble floor. Feeling the security provided to him by a nine-millimeter pistol in his shoulder holster, he comfortably ventured down towards the other diplomats present. To his right, a senior envoy of the Foreign Affairs Ministry - Bonares Loren - walked at a leisurely pace, while to his left a lieutenant-colonel with a carefree attitude exhibited on his face carefully followed his boss. No security team was present, for the colonel was only an aide of a boss with an impressive build for a sixty year old man. A dim smile crackled along the narrow rift between his lips. He should have been nervous at the thought of having zero protection besides his own pistol, he thought, but at the same time he hoped that whoever managed to participate in this conference would be sane enough to realize that shooting up a diplomatic session would be an extremely foolish thing to attempt.

"I hope that we won't be just an observer here, which is why I am worried," Loren continued his talk, noting Mr. Home from Isselmere and a Space Union diplomat whose name didn't immediately occur to him. His attire was simple - an oversized pin bearing the portrait of Eternal President Hongaz Omazee was fixed onto his right chest, while a pin bearing the tiny flag of the Omzian Democratic Republic sat on the other side of his chest. He noted the general's attire - it was even simpler. Beside the same oversized portrait and flag, the General only bore two rows of medal ribbons on his left chest and the four-diamond rank insignia on each of his shoulders. No other distinctive decorations or prominent features were visible on his dress-blue uniform - perhaps beside the two overly large, thinly bordered red patches that he wore on each side of his collar, which made him look more like a communist-peasant soldier than a dignified military officer with a master's degree in international relations from the War Studies College.

And this is all part of the Omzians' intention - perhaps their simple attire and lack of security complement were too overly obvious in the eyes of the laboriously decorated diplomats and officers from CAD and elsewhere, but it also bore an irony of its own - they would still wield the same power, and the same volume in their voices, of any of the other diplomats in the room, most having been dressed so splendorous if not distractingly. The General smirked at the thought of making a mockery of them through this simply trick. If they can recognize it, he tried to refute himself, quite humorously.

And so as they proceeded towards the large, broad table, they helped themselves to the comfortable seats kindly provided by their Czardaian comrades. And they were not there to watch and observe, as the contents of the General's slim briefcase would show - the Omzian government had enough of the arrogance and hypocrisy of the victors in the conflict, and they were determined to stand up amongst all the silence.

The Czardaians welcome the Omzian delegation into the conference room and show them their seats, which are located near the Space Unionist, Voltaru, Isselmere-Nielander, and Sarzonian delegations. The table is shaped something like the < symbol, thus:

Czardaian Supporters
< Czardas
CAD Supporters

The delegates wait tensely for the remaining groups to arrive so the conference can begin. Delegates make idle talk, listen to music, or simply sit in silence as the remaining delegations arrive.

Conference Hall, Czarda


Lord Rostam Masouleh entered into the conference room, flanked by a pair of Immortals. He dressed for the occasion, one to show the majesty of Parthia, a custom fitted suit made from golden silk, upon which, medals, decorations were attached. Jewel encrusted watches and rings further made the aristocrat into a divine figure intended to shock and dismay the poorer peoples of Czardas. He carried a Montecristo cigar with him, blowing smoke rings as he alternated from holding the cigar in his teeth and his fingers, releasing the fine smoke in puffs as he waited to take a seat. He was pleased to see the allied delegations from CAD, moving up to their appointed positions. Four servants followed the aristocrat, along with the assistant delegate, who was muttering softly in Farsi to Lord Masouleh about the method the conference was to take and what was to be expected of the Czardaians.

The aristocrat only smirked and handed the assistant a slip of paper, signed by the Shah himself, "This will not be so unreasonable I think."

OOC: I won't be here for the rest of the weekend since I'm going to VA Beach. Sorry, I'll pick this up later on Sunday. :)

ooc: One more Woodstock Pact member arriving...


It was a rare occasion indeed that saw Taldaani forces marching through a defeated city, but the rhythmic thud of military boots on the street of Czarda and the men wearing Taldaani military uniform and clutching Taldaani rifles to their chests could mean only one thing: the Obviously Satirical Republic had returned to the international stage. A square formation of sixteen soldiers swept down the wide street.

However, this was no triumphal march. Rather than a marching band and a standard bearer, this contingent was lead by a small huddle of diplomats. The invasion of Czardas by the CAD had caused quite a stir in the Taldaani government, although the policy of isolation and the lack of concerted action had caused a backbench rebellion that had stopped any aid being sent. Even so, it had been deemed prudent to send a delegation to the peace talks, to at least give some semblence of flying the flag of democracy. Quite what aid could be given after the conference was a matter for Parliament, but trading thinly-veiled threats and insults with the Bandurians, Parthians, and Doomies might bring some diplomatic victories even if the force behind them is uncertain.

In charge of the trio of black-suited diplomats was one Tal Bizon, a medium-height, middle-aged, slightly rotund man named for the founder of Taldaan. He was speaking busily with his aides, almost oblivious to the troops behind them.

"Which other nations have delegations going to the conference?"

"The Parthians sent an ambassador. We aren't sure, but we think its Lord Masouleh. He should be fairly easy to recognise, he looks like a walking jeweller's display. It looks like they've gone for style over substance, but we shouldn't underestimate him.

The Warmaster also seems to have sent an aristocrat. No idea what his name is, but he drinks heavily and listens to metal at volumes that be all rights should have liquidised his brain by now. Just another wannabe hard man, shouldn't be too much of a threat although he's got an army backing him up.

Banduria have apparently sent a Grand Admiral, so its easy to see their objective here."

Bizon grimaced at this. A show of force like that could well be a sign of a willingness to destabilise these talks. Sending a Grand Admiral after the crushing naval defeat of Czardas was quite clearly a kick in the teeth.

"Although we haven't been able to positively ID him, his uniform gives his rank away. He also has a bodyguard of battlesuits."

"Battlesuits? They'd be wasted as mere bodyguards."

Bizon turned to the soldiers behind him.

"Keep a close eye on the Bandurian delegation."

He turned back to his aids.

"Who can we expect support from?"

"The Isselmere-Nieland Foreign Affairs Minister, Douglas Holme..."

The other aide cut her off.

"Thats Douglas Home, not Holme."

"Very well. The Isselmere-Nieland Foreign Affairs Minister, Douglas Home is also in Czarda somewhere. He seems to have brought a small army of Royal Marines with him, so he should be fairly easy to spot. As a Woodstock Pact member, we can probably count on him.

Space Union has also sent a delegate. They were one of the more vocal proponents of sending aid to Czardas during the war, so they'll definitely be on our side. We're almost certain its Harman Sidhu, their Foreign Minister, but these diplomatic recon missions aren't always accurate.

The Sarzonians are here too. No idea who their delegate is, but having a full flight of F-21s escort their diplomatic plane makes it a no-brainer which nation it is. We haven't had a chance to find out much else though, and we only saw the Coronets by chance. Still, thats another nation we can count on. Plus as one of the founder members of the Pact, they'll carry a lot of diplomatic weight."

"Not necessarily. Remember what they managed to do to their economy? The crash made the news all around the world, and the CAD are going to know that Sarzonia can't really do much in the way of intervention if we don't win this one. They may be a big fish, but they're also a sick fish. If this goes wrong it'll have to be Space Union, Isselmere-Nieland and us throwing the punches."

"Even so, they're still arguably a superpower. The Sarzonian navy has the ISS Potomac parked offshore, that has to count for something. Plus with a reputation like theirs, they may still be able to tip this in our favour."

"Anyone else turned up?"

"The Voltarum sent a delegate, although they're hardly a major player. They're pretty much isolated, and without other Woodstock Pact members they wouldn't stand a chance here.

Finally, there are unconfirmed rumours that Omzian diplomats are here in Czarda. If its true then we've got another superpower on our side, but either they're keeping very quiet or they aren't actually here."

"What about Yurka?"

"Its strange, but they haven't actually turned up. No sign of any Yurkan presence anywhere. It could just be that they're even better hidden than the Omzian delegation, but I don't think they actually came at all. Hey, there's the conference hall."

The delegation crossed the street and entered Congress Hall.

[ooc: sorry for rushed post...]

V.B.S. Jericho, Just Outside Czardaian Waters

Admiral Dera Saltrow nearly jumped as her second cleared his throat behind her.

"I'm sorry to disturb your Admiral, but we just got a communication from the House Guard. The Ambassador has arrived safety, and so far there have been no incidents to report. She also has confirmed the participants for us."

"Good, good, stand down from High Alert, but keep those subs on the ready... Anything else, Commander?"

"No sir."

"Very well, I will relay this information back to base. Dismissed." Dera turned as her second walked back toward the center of the ops deck. The waiting was killing her, and the thought that this would take days gnawed at her insides. Don't worry, she thought. With the Doomies there, you can bet talk of peace won't last long...

She entered her ready room and began opening a secure channel to Ohm.

Conference Room

Alynda entered the room, and began walking toward the table, introducing herself to the other Woodstock Pact members already present. She made sure to try and make direct eye contact with all the CAD supporters, especially the Doomingslandi delegate - whom as soon as he looked at her would recieve a grand smile and wink.

As she sat, she witnessed the entrance of the Isselmere and the Omzian delegation, and inwardly laughed at the Premier. And he thought getting representation here would be difficult... not only do we have the founder, we have 3 of the largest member nations including ourselves...

She turned and took a seat near the middle of the group, sweeping her ambassadorial robes strewn with Voltaru colors under her. Cara, emotionless as always, took a stance immediately behind her, and after a moment leaned over to whisper in her ear...

"It appears we have one more Pact member on its way... a Taldaani group has just arrived."

The Ambassador raised an eyebrow. Taldaan was one member she had not counted on being here. She looked across the table at the seated, and mostly heavily armored, CAD delegates. The More the merrier...let the games begin... She smiled and started some small talk with the Space Union delegate sitting to her right.

As Diplomat Bizon entered the hall he could already pick out many of the delegates that his aides had mentioned. The Parthian delegate was the first one that he noticed, and he had to struggle to keep his composure as he realised that his aides had understated the aristocrat's flamboyance. The arrogant princeling seemed to be wearing the GDP of his entire country on his fingers alone. Lord Rahvin too was recognised easily, except this time by hearing rather than by sight, and Bizon smiled inwardly. The delegate from Doomingsland was also making a spectacle of himself, and Bizon wondered where he had got that ridiculous armour from, although he allowed no sign of this to reach his face.

Looking over to the other side of the room, he saw the group of Woodstock Pact delegates, and the opposite positions of the two groups immediately made him think of battlelines being drawn up. He recognised Harman Sidhu immediately, although none of the others. He could, however, tell which one was the Voltaru representative by her coloured robes. He also noted with satisfaction that the Omzians had in fact sent diplomats. The collective diplomatic force of the Pact would be all the higher for it. Signalling to his aides to follow him, he moved over to join them and introduce himself.

"In the name of Eternal President Hongaz Omazee, my greetings to you and our Tandaani comrades. I'm Colonel-General J. Moranoes of the Omzian Army General Staff, and beside me are Comrade B. Loren from the Foreign Ministry, and Comrade Lieutenant-Colonel Kolens-Eanloyanz, my aide."

The general warmly welcomed Bizon and nodded to his aides, rising from the comfort of his chair as light gleamed off from his bald scalp. He reached out his hand, glad that yet another powerful Pact member has joined this important conference, and spoke in almost-perfect English. Noting the security contingent behind the dignified diplomat, he threw a formal salute, the red patches on his collars clearly visible under the blinding lights on the roof. Then he sat down, and began a short talk with Bizon.

After doing so with much satisfaction, he turned away, slightly towards Loren beside him. His hand reached down to his trousers pocket, and after a moment of making sure that two full magazines of 9mm ammunition were there, he pulled it out again, and sat it on the table. But being the restless limbs they were, he reached down to his other pocket, pulling out a tiny red booklet with a bright star and the title QUOTATIONS OF LEADER OMAZEE on the front cover. He pushed the booklet into his right chest pocket, careful to leave the title in its entirety visible. Then he rotated his head to the direction of Loren.

"Don't you think that this is a strange occasion, Comrade Loren?"

Loren chuckled at the thought, his eyes throwing a wince at Lord Rahvin from The Warmaster, from whose direction rock music suddenly blared out in a way more humourous than offending, considering the seriousness of the conference. Noting the extravagant garments and pompous appearance of the CAD diplomats, he shook his head, and turned to the general. "Regardless of that, I think that our side will still have a strong bargaining position in this conference. With their leaders already surrendering, northern Czardas in my view is essentially lost, but I haven't finished my own war. This is not only about the Czardaians themselves, but also about our own position in this world."

The general nodded silently, contemplating. He understood the significance of what he had said. Though the Omzians do not have significant investment or other similar commitment in Czardas, the loss of Czardas as a democratic state sharing good relations with the Pact would occur at nothing less than an astronomical cost. He hadn't entirely expected the Czardaian government to surrender so quickly, but he understood that they had little choices. But neither the Omzian government, nor himself personally, could just let Czardas in its entirety become a province of the fascists. Under his partial observation, the General Staff is already drafting a contingency plan for the invasion and liberation of Czardas shall they be fully occupied, but he predicted that things would become even more complicated.

In the meanwhile, he looked around, noticing the sheer proportions of 'bodyguards' and other 'security personnel' in the room. Only if young privates and corporals would understand the potential consequences of this conference, he sighed.

Severus and his aids had taken seats next to their Parthian allies. He had met Lord Masouleh on a previous occasion, and so they would make small talk whilst the conference prepared to get underway.

Place is overrun with communists and infidels...my least favorite combination of anything...

As he glanced around the room, he made eye contact with the Voltaru delegate. That smile and wink was obviously an attempt at subversion.

Pagan whore... he thought to himself.

He simply stared back emotionlessly, his stone-like face doing all of the talking. His wife was more attractive, anyway. He was getting sick of these decadent idiots already.

Taking his eyes off of the Voltaru woman, he saw the Omzians,

Now what the fuck are they doing here? he woundered silently.

If this wasn't a prime example of heathen expansion, he didn't know what was. These Omzians had shed no blood whatsoever, or even did much in the area of moral support for the Czardaians. The Woodstock Pact was obviously playing on strength in numbers in this conference. And if they thought that would actualy have any weight in this conference, they were greatly mistaken.

Then he glanced at the Taldaanis as they entered the room. He didn't even give them a second thought. Just another pawn of that vile, decadent sodomite Sarzo, he thought. None the less, he would be keeping an eye on them. If there had been one thing he had learned serving with the Legions, it was never underestimate your enemy. He would not be making that mistake here.

Finally, he saw whom he thought of as his own personal rival for this negotiation, the Sarzonian, Haffner. He had read the intellegence file on this man. He would be a formidable and worthy opponent, indeed. Politically, at least. He didn't hate Haffner per se, but the fact he was Sarzonian simply drove a stake of pure anger through the skull of Severus.

If there was one thing he positively hated in God's world, it was Sarzonians. Yet, for all his hatred, Severus' facial expression remained unchanged. He had dealt with far worse.

The Sarzonians. He saw them as men worthy only of contempt on a battlefield. They had earned that in Inkana, where they had managed to actualy wound Severus. Somehow. It didn't matter. He had avenged his injury twenty-fold in the blood of his foe, and thoroughly enjoyed the wholesale slaughter he and his men had inflicted.

War. God's greatest gift to mankind. And the Sarzonians made an utter mockery of the very word. These were barbarians in the purest sense of the word. From what he had heard, they had made reforms within their armed forces, and had supposedly regained their honor when doing battle with the mighty Panterans. In his eyes, the ISA would not regain their honor until they fought well against his countrymen. And as more and more Woodstock Pact representatives filed in, the more that the oppurtunity for such a battle became likely...

More and more delegates begin to arrive now. As Lord Rahvin (and just about everyone else in the room) continues to listen to the rock music, a Czardaian delegate opens his own MP3 player and proceeds to show the Warmasterian ground commander the famed endurance of Czardaian ears. He turns the volume up to near-maximum and turns on something with a beat that very nearly shakes the table. The two musics play against each other in a battle of volumes, making conversation difficult.

Finally, Kari Alhoun holds up a large sign reading: "THE CONFERENCE IS BEGINNING". This elicits laughter from the Czardaian bodyguards waiting behind the Czardaians themselves. The Czardaian listening to music shuts off his MP3 player as a final sign that the actual business of the conference will soon be transacted.

Alhoun sits down again and smiles pleasantly at everyone sitting around the table, ally or vicious enemy.

"All right, shall we begin?"

The Mauvasian "observation fleet" had arrived outside Czardaian waters some time before the conference began, but due to the usual bureaucracy and red tape tying up everything, it was not until the very last minute that Mauvasian diplomats had been allowed to attend the conference. Secretary of State Andrew Marks had been selected to attend after a Senate vote of 41-19 confirming Mauvasian attendance at the peace conference.

Marks was currently in an old transport plane approaching the Czardaian capitol. It, along with the mixed squadron of F-35s, F-22s, and SZ-2s accompanying it (for some reason, the squadron contained thirteen planes instead of twelve—although it was far from Marks's business to justify that), was flying fairly low at transonic velocities, approaching the conference hall swiftly.

Marks, a prematurely graying man in his later 30s, bore an air of ineffable and stoic calmness. He wore half-moon spectacles and had a receding hairline, accented by the part just off-center and the upturned tuft exposing his high, unlined forehead. He wore a business suit, a tie depicting various forms of writing, and sported the Great Seal of Mauvasia, showing a scorpion in the centre of a golden sun, the rays extending to the edge, while around the border ran the words "Gloriam Sapientes Possidebunt" in white on blue, the Republic's motto.

Behind Marks sat several aides, attempting to converse, but the aged transport plane was producing so much engine noise that conversation became difficult. A few Imperial Dragoons sat wooden and impassive at the back of the aircraft, dressed in extravagant costumes resembling those of British beefeaters, their weapons at their sides.

The pilot announced over the failing intercom system, "Coming in for landing temporarily." Marks automatically braced himself; Mauvasia was known for its Sunday drivers and the MIRAF was no exception.

The plane disengaged from its squadron and descended jerkily from the clouds towards the plaza. Careening madly, it hit the ground none too gently, blasting across the square in a cloud of dust, and veering to a halt barely centimetres from a nearby building. Somewhat shaken, Marks exited the aircraft, followed by the aides and the Dragoons behind them. At least Mauvasia's entrance into the conference would not go unnoticed...

He had looked with a disapproving eye on the CAD's invasion of Czardas, but with trouble already brewing with a Krendian naval force the Department of Defence had been unwilling to involve itself in another war, preferring to dispatch an "observation fleet" that could not attack unless fired upon. The fleet itself had not even arrived until after the war was completed and a cease-fire declared.

Nonetheless, Marks was not appearing at the conference for no purpose. Czardas and the Woodstock Pact could prove valuable allies in case Mauvasia were to be attacked, and he could always act as a mediator in case one was needed. The "observation fleet", while clearly labeled as such, would add force to his words if he needed it, which he seriously doubted with the allied support. Which reminded Marks...

"Who else has shown up at this conference?" he asked an aide.

"Apparently there are—" the aide consulted a sheet of paper. "Sarzonian, Space Union, Voltaru, Omzian, Isselmere-Nielander, and Taldaani delegations have shown up for the Woodstock Pact, which means we'll have their support. On the other side, the Doomies are here—"

Marks grunted imperceptibly, keeping an outwardly calm expression. It was the only expression of emotion he would make where it came to Doomingsland.

"—Warmaster and Parthia have sent aristocrats, Banduria an admiral; Freudotopia and Yurka, the other participants in the invasion, have yet to respond. They do, of course, have a slight advantage in bargaining."

Marks laughed shortly. "They bloody well do. Fleets and armies surrounding the country, not to mention most of the north coast is under their control."

"However, with the Woodstock Pact on our side... I think we may be able to ensure at least a measure of self-rule in Czardas."

"Good... this way, I presume?" Marks indicated the entrance to the Congress Hall.

"Correct, sir," an Imperial Dragoon volunteered, falling impassively silent once again.

The Mauvasian delegation arrived very late to the conference, heading into the room and seating themselves graciously along with the other Czardaian allies. Marks looked around briefly at the other CAD delegates and had to suppress a chuckle. Hypocrites... the Parthian was the epitome of decadence, the very same accusation he knew the CAD members to make of the supposed "infidels" or "barbarians", depending on nationality. Even those label could not apply to Marks. He was a stolid Roman Catholic as the cross around his neck could attest to, learned in the studies of law and rhetoric. The Warmasterian Lord Rahvin was listening to music at outrageous volumes, which Marks disapproved of highly. And the Doomies... was that full battle armour they wore? To a peace conference? As for the Bandurian Grand Admiral—identifiable by the naval ensign—Marks sincerely hoped the Bandurian government knew the repercussions and implications of sending such a personage to the conference. Then again, Banduria was not known for being quite a champion of peace after all. Nor were any of the others seated opposite the Woodstock Pact for that matter.

He seated himself complacently and awaited the beginning of the conference.

Lord Rahvin, seeing the sign, waited for a reasonable interlude before turning off the music, just in time to hear, "All right. Shall we begin?"

Staring aross the table, he looked at Kari Alhoun, a vile dissembler, an infidel, a Czardaian, and grimaced. At least it reminded him to keep his eyes on the goal ahead.

"Gentlemen, both honorable allies of the Imperium and...tardy allies of Czardas, I greet you in the name of the Sacred Emperor and the Imperium. Of course you are all familiar with the issue at hand here. However, for clarification, the facts are as follows.

"Czardas was part of a group of nations that advocated intervention in the internal politics of the Imperium. Their reasons, I believe, were barbarism and violation of human rights. After a long air struggle, with the invaluable assistance of the noble warriors of Doomingsland," here he nodded to that delegation, "the Czardaians were turned back. Imperial law and Imperial honor dictate that such idolaters as would violate the sanctity of the Empire must be punished for their deeds. Allied fleets surrounded Czardas, during which time I must note that the few nations that 'supported' Czardas suddenly withdrew their support. The Imperium landed troops on the mainland, and since then have fought in a glorious progression from the Aurdanian spit to the very doorstep of Czarna. Along the way, the cities of Auru, Aurdania, and Senazkerkia were destroyed. Aurdania was empty, its citizens having been evacuated; however, Senazkerkia and Auru were not.

"Auru, at my request, was bombarded by the Imperial fleet and destroyed, every citizen killed. Despite more claims of barbarism and cruelty, this action was entirely appropriate. The city was undefended. It is inexcusable for a nation at war to abandon a city and then protest its destruction. Further, the devastation of Auru emphasized the strength of Imperial resolve in avenging the violation of our lands.

"Senazkerkia was a very different situation. It also lay defenseless, but I declared it to be subject to Imperial law by right of conquest. This message went unheard, as the citizens had fled. This was their choice; generously, I repeated the message by broadcasting it over the terrain to which the citizens had fled. A spokesperson, who it was understood would inform me of the Czardaian response, decided by the democracy they so treasure, to my ultimatum, came to meet me. Insolently, he informed me that no such decision had been made and that he had come on his own initiative to mock me. For this, I arrested him, as was my right, for this man was standing on Imperial lands. I also ordered the bombardment of the forests that the Senazkerkians hid in, presumably killing them all. The man, I turned over to an Inquisitor, who, in accordance with Inquisitorial powers to deal with heretics, tortured him to death. His execution was broadcasted on Czardaian television and was made public.

"And that largely brings us to our situation today. A truce was called, and I was in the air on my way to Czarna when I was informed that Doomingsland had re-entered the war and Czardas had surrendered. Since then, I have celebrated another glorious Imperial victory; I have arrived here, and here I stand. You might use the word 'unrepentant' to describe me at this moment. You may accuse me of war crimes if you will, but I will defend myself. I also would like to remind the allies of Czardas that, as a practical matter, this city and a great deal more Czardaian territory is in my hands. I think I have proved that I will destroy Czardas if you force me. Further, I remind you that the war was begun by Czardas, and it was Czardas that surrendered, giving the Imperium the victory.

"These are the facts, gentlemen. Your comments?"

Lord Rahvin sat down, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Kari Alhoun looks back at Lord Rahvin, displaying no emotion whatsoever. When the Warmasterian military commander is finished, Alhoun speaks in his eloquent tones.

"A highly... astute... rendition, sir," Alhoun says, something mischievous in him indicating that it is in actuality nothing of the kind. "However, allow me to make a few... clarifications.

"According to my information, which may or may not be correct—but I rather suspect it to be as it was given me by the spokesman himself—he intended to announce his surrender of the city of Senazkerkia to Imperial forces," Alhoun continues. "I somehow fail to see how a surrender announcement could be construed as mocking the Empire's power—especially with that being undoubtedly great enough that it need not be shaken by the words of but one man?"

Alhoun smiles sphinx-like and turns to the other delegates. "Otherwise, ladies and gentlemen, our Lord Rahvin is accurate in his statement. Expecting political and military support, Czardas made a reckless move and suffered the consequences as a result. Therefore, our treaty should be drawn up in light of those facts."

[OOC: I figure it's time for me to post again in this thread. Just a reminder, any players I've ignored to this point are still ignored.]

Haffner waited until the delegate from The Warmaster finished speaking. He wanted to save his bombast for the time when it was needed. He decided now was the time.

"I think you'll find that your threats will go over as well as a lead balloon," Haffner said, not bothering to sugar coat a word of what he was going to say. "If you destroy Czardas, you'll find that several of us within the Woodstock Pact are powerful enough to knock your country back to the Stone Age.

"It is not to your advantage to seek anything more than a status quo antebellum treaty with Czardas. In fact, not only do I and the rest of the Incorporated Sarzonian Government expect you to leave Czardas completely independent, we also insist that you pay war reparations for your defiling that country."

Haffner looked at the manifest that listed the number of ships that had arrived as an observation force. It was a squadron led by a soon-to-be-retired Brandywine class light command dreadnought, but Haffner was aware of the rumours that the Fifth Fleet was being mobilised and would be ready to go wherever it was needed. Whether that involved forcibly retaking Czardas from these barbarians or attacking one of their occupiers' homelands right at the source was another matter.

He chose not to mention anything about the economic recession that was plaguing Sarzonia at the time. The nation was beginning to show signs of emerging from it anyway and if someone chose to mention the nation's ills, he'd be quick to point out the recovery was well underway. Besides that, the military wasn't downsizing in the literal sense, although long-term projects that weren't of immediate importance weren't going to be on the agenda.

I hope the rest of the Pact will back us up on this, Haffner thought as he looked around at the rest of the Woodstock Pact nation's delegations. He knew Sarzonia could stand in and fight after the army's reforms and after the country proved its mettle against Pantera. But he was also wary of his reputation among Pacitalians as being a contributing cause of frosty Paci-Sarzonian relations. He then turned his glare back at the delegate from The Warmaster.

"So what's it going to be? Watch your nation get smashed in a war that I doubt very seriously you can afford to fight or agree to a peace that will spare millions of your people's lives? The choice is yours."

As The Warmaster's Lord Rahvin spoke at some length, Andrew Marks was watching him disapprovingly. He was openly flaunting his supposed power over Czardas and appeared to have little to no respect for the fact that this was, in fact, a peace conference. Marks's alert eyes flicked from Rahvin to Alhoun, who was sitting there impassively, and then to the straining Grant Haffner. Knowing the Sarzonian diplomat -- while not in person, but through reports -- the Imperial aristocrat's cockiness would soon be shattered. When Haffner rose after the Imperial and Czardaian delegates had seated themselves once more, Marks half-smiled in approval.

Haffner's move was, of course, more than a bit reckless, especially considering that the Imperial forces and their allies held the Czardaian coast in a stranglehold, but it was difficult for the Mauvasian to help but admire the Sarzonian's speech. After Haffner had finished, Marks rose to speak himself in a well-cultivated accent.

"While I do agree with Mr. Haffner, I believe we should settle this reasonably and peacefully before resorting to threats of violence. It would be better for all involved if we could negotiate a compromise whereby both the Czardaians and the Sacred Empire could be recompensated for the damages suffered during this conflict.... Neither side can take all of the blame for this war, after all.

"I also wish to remind the most honourable Lord Rahvin that Czardas, as a sovereign state, is not subject to Imperial law and was acting more in keeping with international law. And among the international laws are those advocating the prevention of genocide, as which such internal policies as caused the outbreak of hostilities could easily be classified." Marks sat back down with an air of finality, displaying his trademark 'grammar-nazism'.

Rahvin's eyes widened slightly as the Sarzonian...Haffner?...finished. Eyebrows raised, he replied as soon as the Mauvasian had also fallen silent.

"Sir, I think you will find that I did not threaten anybody here. What I did was state the facts. What I said was absolutely true, and if you choose to take it as a threat...I am aware of the power of the Woodstock Pact, and of your own nation. I am aware that this is a peace conference. I am not here to fight anyone. Neither are you; your threats have no place in this conference. I am here to negotiate a treaty that will benefit the Imperium and its allies.

"I think you heard the esteemed Kari Alhoun state that 'Czardas made a reckless move and suffered the consequences as a result.' Therefore I have no intention whatsoever of paying reparations. The war was Czardaian, as were the casualties. Do you think I will insist that Czardas pay for the Imperial aircraft shot down over our territory? Of course not.

"Mr. Alhoun, my recollection may be flawed, but as I recall the spokesperson for the Senazkerkians proposed no agreement. He insolently informed me that he had made no decision, and for this, he, being among a group of people belonging to the Imperium by right of conquest, was arrested and executed. It is, unfortunately, irrelevant. The man is dead, and here we all are.

"And finally, Mr. Marks, the war began because Sacred Emperor Lucifer passed an edict stripping a legislative body in the Imperium of the power to legislate. He then arrested many of the members of this body and sacrificed them to the gods. All of this is completely legal under Imperial law, and there can be no question that Imperial laws are what matter in this affair. It was completely internal. Such nations as Fluffywuffy and Czardas advocated military action, and Czardas executed such plans."

"That's where your argument is flawed," Haffner said, seizing an opportunity at what he considered poor wording on the part of Rahvin. "You claim to be seeking a treaty that benefits The Imperium and your allies. If you are truly seeking peace, you'll drop that demand right off.

"This war is hardly just a Czardaian war Mr. Rahvin," Haffner said, aware of his title but choosing to ignore it. "Your nation openly threatened democracy and you and several of your allies attacked a single nation with the intent to subvert her people. Now we have met as we are discussing a treaty to end a war that has cost untold millions of lives. Your nation's imperialist aggression will eventually cause you to pay a severe price. The question of whether that price will come due now or later depends on what you agree to here.

"My government is not in the habit of making 'threats,' Mr. Rahvin," Haffner said. "We make promises."

Kari Alhoun watches the battle with mounting interest. After Haffner sits back down for the second time, he himself stands to speak. "With respect to Lord Rahvin, I wish to back Mr. Haffner's statement up with simple facts: While Czardas became the major front in the war quickly, the conflict itself arose out of the internal policies of the Imperium—nowhere else, and especially its apparent flaunting of those policies to democratic nations such as Czardas itself, which viewed them as unacceptable according to international law—but also Fluffywuffy, The Silver Sky, Space Union, The Voltarum and other participants on Czardas's end of the war. Other nations, including Kilani and Brydog, also condemned these 'internal policies'... In the face of such statements, one can only assume that the war arose out of a legitimate reason and is not solely a Czardas-related conflict."

Alhoun resumes his seat. The tension in the room, already high at the start of the conference, is steadily rising in the air like smoke, thickening and intensifying...

The general stood up, his face bearing no apparent immediate emotions following Lord Rahvin's short speech, and his hand pulling out the little red booklet that he had relocated earlier. He looked at the direction of Lord Rahvin, and scanned the man with his own, naturally big eyes. During the course of listening and digesting to the ongoing exchanges between Haffner and Rahvin, and made mental notes to prepare for what was about to happen. Finally, catching a long-awaited chance, he decided to speak up after a silent nod to the Foreign Affairs envoy.

"First things first, I have noticed some interesting peculiarities in Rahvin's initial statements about war crimes," he said, looking into Rahvin in the eye after scanning the whole room and the panel of non-allied diplomats. "I find this preposition interesting, even amusing to an extent. The burden of responsibility of a crime does not lie in the hands of the victim regardless of whether he or her could - or wanted to - adequately defend himself, but it lies on the shoulders of the perpetrator. The massacre of Czardaians is no doubt, an evil act of a magnificent act, and it was an act that was not warranted nor provoked. True, the Czardaians did not adequately defend certain cities, but that in no way justifies the brutal killing of its entire civilian population, which was not only not necessary, but was also taken on a strong initiative. Murder, massacre, genocide, extermination, whatever it might be - the responsibility will always lie on the perpetrator, and how the victim managed to defend himself is a completely irrelevant topic in the face of the perpetuator’s guilt. The Warmaster's savage intentions are very obvious, and no it is imperative that the leaders of the Warmaster bear the burden of guilt."

His throat was evidentially dry, but he chose to persist. "Aside from war crimes, I find the other claims made by Warmaster to be quite interesting. If the Warmaster's diplomats truly wanted to seek for a simple, peaceful resolution, then I doubt that they will even bother to come here with what too many pomp and ceremony. The fact of the matter is that the Warmaster – and its allies – came into the conference not for peace, but for war booty and coercing the bloodied Czardaian diplomats into unwillingly accept terms that will be of the least benefit to them and the greatest benefit to the Warmaster and their allies. Mr. Rahvin himself confirms this. We do acknowledge the fact that it was Czardas themselves who have surrendered, but to exploit Czardas' relatively weak position with imperialistic and other perverse ambitions is another matter. Whoever started this war is irrelevant, for such a brutal invasion is far from a simple retaliation in response to minor trespasses. If the 'victors' of this conflict wishes to save what little remained of their credibility, I urge them to abandon their imperialistic ambitions and seek equal terms with the battered Czardaians.

"As for our position, it is our government and our armed forces’ wish that Czardas remain as an independent nation with all of her pre-war territories under her own control. We are against the notion of a partitioned or partially occupied Czardas, and we are against unilaterally depriving Czardas of her territory, her resources, and her basic rights as a nation. We are opposed to any agreement between Czardas and the opposing nations that does not give Czardas equal leverage and say in the matter. If such terms cannot be met, the Omzian Forces will not refrain from involving in the matter in a way that will ensure these terms be met.”

OOC: Sorry, this is just kind of a lump reply...I don't have time to sort out who said what and still make a detailed counter-argument.

Lord Rahvin felt mounting irritation at this Sarzonian.

"Sir, I...applaud you for your melodramatic choice of words. Promises? Hmph. As for untold millions of lives...That is ridiculous. I am unaware of civilian casualties during the creeping barrage that allowed the Legions to advance from Palma, but I doubt they would reach into 'untold millions'.

"Further, the Imperium is not bound by your international law that you happily shield your actions with. The Imperium is an ancient nation and has no need to enslave itself to any pacts made by other nations. It is hypocrisy of the worst kind for any of you to protest Imperial 'violation of an independent nation' and then enforce international laws on the Imperium that we do not approve of. It is not for you to demand change in the ways of the Imperium.

"Also, how can you say that the only goal of the Imperium is war? We wholeheartedly supported the calling of such a conference. We insisted on it to the point of executing 25,000 former Senazkerkians to achieve it. We could have razed Czarna as we had Auru or Aurdania...and we did not. This is not the gesture of a nation interested only in slaughter. You also might find it difficult to argue that we feared to attack Czarna. The one who does that insults Imperial honor and also apparently does not recognize the fact that there were (I believe) around 1.6 million Czardaian troops defending the city. There were 6.6 million Legionaries, not counting Immortals, War-Priests, and all support groups prepared to attack.

"Finally...as for equal terms? It has already been stated by the Sarzonians that their intention is for the Imperium to make reparations. If this is what you mean, say as much. This is hardly equal. Claims of equal blame are dubious to me, but insisting that ALL blame lies on Imperial shoulders? Ridiculous."

Alhoun looks a little bit irritated, primarily because he is. "Mr. Rahvin, you are using a logical fallacy here to justify your argument... Czarna is not the issue here, and even if it were, its defenses are extensive enough to prevent it from being razed to the ground the way Aurú and Aurdania were. Whether you could or could not have attacked Czarna is not what we are discussing here, and your implications seem to point towards further aggressive intentions... which I trust is not what you meant.

"I also agree with the Omzian delegations... the Imperial justifications for the destruction of Aurú appear to be weak at best, and the CAD and its allies appear to be doing little to further the interests of peace, preferring to make thinly veiled threats and show off their supposed power and victory."

[OOC: Apparently, as a memberstate of the Woodstock Pact, I am invited to this. Please tell me if I'm not.]

Having departed the plane some hours ago and spent the best part of the morning sampling the delights of his hotel, Lord Darwold made no attempt to be on time for the conference itself. It came as no surprise, therefore, that he wasn't. Protected only by his trusty bodyguard Mr Alexander Dunnings (a pleasant looking man attired in a black suit, bowler hat and carrying a black umbrella), His Lordship let out a snort of laughter at the ridiculuous over-armament of the foreign contingents. His unshakeable belief in the might of the Imperial Navy and his unquestioning knowledge that no member of the Praetonian Aristocracy would ever be inconvenienced by a foreigner were all he needed for confidence that he would not be attacked.

Mr Dunnings rapped sharply on the door three times with the handle of his umbrella, and then opened it for His Lordship, who strolled in, completely non-plussed, and proceeded to greet his friends and make his apologies for his appauling lateness. Mr Dunnings pulled out a chair for him next to the representatives of the other Woodstock Pact states, although he had made it clear in his initial dispatch that he was there to represent Praetonia, not the Woodstock Pact. Mr Dunnings took his place behind His Lordship's chair, and stared impassively forwards with his hands resting on the handle of the umbrella, whose needle-like tip was scratching a small hole in the floor.

"My most sincere apologies for my utterly unforgiveable lateness!" He exclaimed with a smile and a hint of laughter. "Now, on to business! His Majesty's Government concurs absolutely with the statements made by my honourable Omzian counterpart," he continued haughtily with his characteristicly over-stated gestures.

"His Majesty's Government is not currently prepared to accept an occupied Czardian state," he went on, sombrely, "but nor does His Majesty think it either fair or reasonable that the invading powers be made to pay reparations. The war, although certainly avoidable, has not progressed to that stage. I think it perfectly acceptable that Czardas be returned her original territories and lands. Enough damage has been wrought upon her poor people, I believe, for the C. A. D invader," he pronounced each letter in 'CAD' individually, "to be rightly pleased with himself! What do you have to say to that?"

"Looking at your own nation's history," Haffner said, fixing another scowl at Lord Rahvin. "You claim that we are being ridiculous by demanding reparations for the damages you have inflicted upon Czarna, but your nation's goals have been made clear.

"If you value peace as much as you are claiming, I suggest you come down from your demands before we begin to 'negotiate'. The fact your very nation's name is Warmaster suggests you are hardly a peacemonger.

"I have not said a word about 'international law,' and if your nation chooses to flaunt its disregard for it, you will find that any nation powerful enough to stand to arms against yours can inflict meaningful consequences upon your nation." Haffner lowered his voice to a menacing growl before he made his final statement.

"You want 'negotiation,'? That's what we're doing right now. You want to annex Czardas or inflict humiliating terms upon her? We want nothing of the sort. If you truly seek to avoid further war, I'm willing to listen to you make a reasonable offer, none of which would include Czardas surrendering any of her sovereignty as a nation, nor territories under her control, nor shall she be compelled to agree to any military presence her people do not want."

"Now, you want negotiations? You've got them. Let's see what you can come up with."

[OOC: Apparently, as a memberstate of the Woodstock Pact, I am invited to this. Please tell me if I'm not.]
[ooc:] Sure, Prae, the more the merrier.

Have to go now, but I'll be back on tonight or tomorrow—probably the latter—to respond to anything more if necessary.

Severus was already sick of this 'negotiating,' if one could call it that. This was why the High Command generally didn't send a warrior to do a diplomat's job. The sheer arrogance of Haffner was begining to truely anger him. Upon hearing Haffner's last irratable statement, he spoke in a harsh tone,

"You listen to me, Sarzonian. You could have helped these weaklings when you had the chance yet your people, for unexplicable reasons, I personally think it is cowardice, chose to leave them to their own demises," his face remained like a statue, although his brow began to furrow with anger. Maybe Inkana hadn't been enough to quell these meulling fools. Perhaps war wasn't nessesarily out of the question...

A look of pure contempt began to boil across his face.

"You want OUR offer for peace, Sarzonian? Here it is: we demand the FULL surrender of ALL Czardaian lands to CAD forces. Answer me this, friends: are YOU the ones who want war? It seems that way. We are giving the Czardaians perfectly reasonable terms for surrender. They initiated the conflict and they lost, therefore we as the victors have the right to impose whatever conditions we wish upon the defeated," he stood, speaking calmly,

"The Empire fully intends to leave the majority of governing to the Czardaian people themselves. That means democracy. Isn't that what you have been babbling about since the begining of this conferece?"

It was all so simple to Severus. He simply couldn't understand why these decandent foreigners didn't see it his way. As mentioned before, he was a warrior, not a diplomat.

"Your demands of a fully independent Czardas are positively...ludacris. We assure you, we shall never accept such terms. And if you absolutely must have that, then I recomend we stop wasting our time here," he slowly looked across the other side of the room, at each of the diplomats, "If you want the CAD out of Czardas, you shall have to pay for it in the blood of your people."

The general nodded silently in approval as friendly diplomats spoke of their position on the matter, and sighed at the Warmaster's response. Rahvin being a stubborn man he was sure of, but he was not sure if the Rahvin knew the seriousness of the situation. "Hypocrisy? Regardless of international law or no international law, our diplomats from Mauvasia do have a point. Is there a more hypocritical thing to do than to violating a nation's sovereignty in such a brutal way and then protest that commonly-accepted principles of humanity and dignity, whatever it might be referred to as - international law, whatnot - is violating their own sovereignty?"

He was poised to continue, willing to take full advantage of the chance to speak. "Your government and military's only goal certainly isn't only about war, Mr. Rahvin. It also involves the exploitation of others to the best interest, and perhaps even sinister enjoyment, of your military, through whatever means possible. We have seen that with the barbarous executions of Czardaians as a way to inflict terror thereby suppressing Czardaians from fully expressing their disapproval of your open exploitation. We have seen that by the destruction of Czaradian cities and land. Surely, this is not the gesture of someone interested solely in slaughter, but it is the gesture of someone interested in unmitigated destruction, exploitation, and suppression. We don't care whether you could have invaded the Czardaian capital, Mr. Rahvin. If you wish to use that as a bargaining tool, you have just failed miserably. Your intentions have exhibited to the world what little humility or even dignity your own savage forces and ruthless leaders possess.

"Equal terms, yes, Mr. Rahvin. Whether we believe reparations is truly necessary or not, I'll leave that for later, but for all the unnecessary trespasses and violations that you have performed against the Czardaian nation, reparations or something in the fashion of that is perfectly justified. What is more ridiculous, perhaps even amusing, Mr. Rahvin, is your constant denial of responsibility of your leaders' crimes in the face of so much evidence. We are not asking for all blame to be pressed against your shoulders, that is impossible - other CAD nations share similar responsibilities for the violation of Czardaian sovereignty. Please, Mr. Rahvin, don't zap me and tell me it is lightning."

The last statement was a bit awkward, he reflected, but he hoped it would achieve its purpose.

"Ah, Severus, the Royal Isselmere-Nieland Navy had the opportunity of joining your forces in battle over Inkana, when your fighters fled after flinging their missiles at ours," Douglas Home answered. "It would do well for you to remember that."

"Lord Rahvin, with your 6.6 million troops located on Czardaian shores, one must be led to expect that there is but a paltry number protecting your own, unless you arm your seniors, women, and young children. I'm certain there are a few regiments in the Isselmere-Nieland Army who would delight in embarking in their ancestors, er, barbarian ways."

"Listen now, for I shall say this but once. Do not cloak your craven disregard for life behind acts of senseless brutality and pretend you are the defenders of some noble heritage. You are but insignificant motes upon the stage of life. His Majesty's Government has not involved itself in this matter up to this point for reasons of its own choosing, none of which need to be presented here. But, as its representative, it is here now and it is here to conduct business. So, if you CADs can take it upon yourselves to pretend to be civilised for the merest of seconds, we might take it upon ourselves to come to a mutually beneficial agreement without having to waste our time any further with this onanistic sadism."

Bizon had observed the rhetorical swordplay between Haffner and Rahvin with some interest, although the posturing on both sides left him cold. He had always believed that war should be left as a last resort; it should certainly never be neglected for important matters such as this, and a nation should always be prepared to fight and win, but the use of war as an immediate threat at a peace conference was likely to accomplish nothing. The Sarzonians appeared to have unshakeable pride in their armed forces after the defeat of the Panteran invasion, economic recession or not, and in a way Bizon felt sympathy with that: the legendary status of the Sarzonian navy had reached Taldaan. However, they had found their match, in threatening at least, in the CAD. The problem with threatening the CAD with war, Bizon mused, was that they were an alliance of militaristic dictatorships. The cultural base around the armed forces lead to a faith in them that rivalled that of the Sarzonians.

It was time, he decided, for an intervention. Standing up and clearing his throat loudly to attract attention, he began to speak.

"Gentlemen, this bickering is what originally sparked this war. Although I understand that tensions are high on both sides, I believe that we can still work this affair out peaceably. We came to this conference to broker a peace treaty between the CAD and Czardas, not turn this spark into a brushfire. Hence I have a proposal that I believe is fair to all sides and addresses some of the problems with more extreme proposals.

To begin with, all conquered regions of Czardas will be rebuilt. All military forces must be removed from this area, except for a peacekeeping force made up of equal parts Czardaian, CAD, and Woodstock Pact peacekeepers to ensure that the neutrality of the region is preserved.

The rebuilding would be financed equally by Czardas and the CAD member nations. The shared financial obligation of the CAD would be divided as the member nations see fit. However, compensation to the families of those Czardaian civilians killed or disabled in the attack by CAD member nations will be payed entirely by the CAD member nations. Numbers of civilian dead will be determined by a neutral third party, although as Lord Rahvin has given his honourable word that the casualties are low I am sure that it will be only a token sum.

After rebuilding has been completed, all forces, including those of Czardas, must be withdrawn from the aforementioned areas. A three-year cooling-off period will then commence, during which time no military forces may be deployed there. However, this area shall still be regarded by all nations as the sovereign territory of Czardas. Czardaian borders will remain at their pre-war positions.

However, allow me to say now that I will not support any additional constraints on Czardas. Any attempt to remove territory or otherwise inhibit Czardaian national sovereignity will result in Taldaani intervention. The level of intervention will be decided at our discretion, with options up to and including military action."

Alhoun glances at the Doomingslander with a strange mixture of scorn and pity. His voice remains impassive as he says—with the air of one explaining something to a small child—"My dear sir, it is no longer so simple. You see, the demands both you and the Sarzonians have called for are diametrically opposite... To make a reasonable peace, it will be necessary to compromise in a manner deemed acceptable by all the participants rather than toss idle threats and ultimata around the negotiating table."

She knew it was going to be a long day when Rahvin started with "Gentlemen..."

Alynda sat silent for much of the opening conversation, nodding in agreement with the Omzian wishes for the results of this conference - momentarily she voiced agreement of The Voltarum government with the Omzian stance.

She followed silently along, taking mental notes, all the while seeing the Doomingslandi nearly boiling over with contempt across from her. Only a matter of time until Haffner pushes too many buttons. Moments later, she was proved correct.

She broke in after the Czardaian spoke - "I am afraid I have to agree. This posturing, gentlemen will get us nowhere. If this is to truly work and to be agreed upon by all, then compromises must be made on both sides. Try as you might, Severus, even you cannot believe your demands will ever be met. It has been made quite clear that several nations here will not stand for it, and I seriously doubt even Doomingsland wants to get in an International conflict of that nature. While my government does not believe any member of the CAD should be forced to pay reparations, we also do not wish to have any Czardaian territory lost because of this invasion - in other words we give our attention to Praetonia's position. Can't that be at least a starting point?"

Harman watched as the exchange of words between the Woodstock Pact members and CAD members began to ignite a thermonuclear bomb in the entire conference. As his aids watched attentionfully at the bickering, Harman determined it was time to step in.

"Ladie and Gentleman, I must say that this bickering is getting us nowhere. To be truthful it is time to get down to business. Threats show little about one's character except for fear. Let your words talk louder than your emotions."

He turned idly toward Rahvin as he looked the man in the eye and a smile formed on his mouth, "I've heard a lot come from your mouth, sir. I must say about almost all of it seems to paint you in the favorable light, yet nothing to say the least, is actually coherent with your actions."

"You say that you are a human rights advocate, at the very least a protector? Howcome you found it perfectly okay to raze two cities during the conflict on the matter that they were undefended? Do you kill innocent civilians only because they are undefended? Do you kill your own populace if they are undefended? Please, tell me as I have found your ideology, culture, and your actions in the war to contradict your words here."

"That said, I back up Praetonia's plan to have the land returned to Czardas but you will not pay for any of the loses or face any severe penalties besides seperate charges. I suggest you accept this plan as it is by far the best plan, if you understand what I mean," finished Harman with a grim, cold expression plastered over his smooth, young face, yet it vibrated with a threatening glare. He sat back in his red cushion chair, but suddenly he brought himself up before anyone could react with one final comment,

"Oh yes, all of the CAD delegates, could you refrain from wearing battle armor in this conference? The clothing someone wears tells a lot about him/her, and to be frank, you sir are dressed like a warrior not a diplomat. This obviously is sending signals that you are hear for threats and bickering not a diplomatic conference. Also the jewelry is hurting my eyes."

Harman finished his last comment with a sincere smile masking his true smug smile as he saw a grin on one of his aids along with some of the other delegates. He could tell that there armor was really getting annoying to the Woodstock Pact delegates.

"The Taldaanis indeed have the right idea," Alhoun says warmly. "Such a treaty is exactly what we have been trying to negotiate for—one that shares the blame equally between both sides while not limiting either one or the other's rights, and taking relative damage into account. I for one would be willing to accept it, and I certainly hope that the other participants would at least consider something similar."

Somewhere in the background a Czardaian SpecOp gives the Taldaanis a thumbs-up sign, if they can see it: a tribute to their diplomatic skills.

Severus sighed and shook his head. What part of the sentence "We're not leaving Czardas" didn these incompetent fools not understand? The words by the Spacian were even more antagonizing. Seriously, who the hell complains about someone's wardrobe at a peace conference? Turning to the Spacian, he spoke calmly,

"My dear friend, you are indeed correct. I am first and foremost a warrior. I was sent to Czardas for the purpose of making war. However, in my culture, even peacefull occasions warrant the wearing of armor..." he said as he flicked a bit of dust off of his polished black brestplate, "Tell me, Ambassador, is it the policy of the Spacian government to impose Spacian culture upon others?"

Turning to the rest of the group, he continued to speak, "Although I must disagree with you on one point. That particular arragement is FAR from the best. In fact, I find it nearly as ludacris as CAD nations paying reparations to Czardas.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here to stay in Czardas. If you truely wish us out, than so be it. You will have to force us out," for the first time in the conference, a twisted, sardonic smile came across his face for a split second. "That is the CAD's stance on the Czardas issue. As I have said before, we are willing to allow semi-autonomy..."

Alhoun rises to explain.

"The Doomingslanders were kind enough to explain to me what they meant by semi-autonomy," he says. "In short, they intend to allow us to keep our form of government and customs, while stationing detachments of soldiers in all major cities, levying a small tax on Czardas itself, and limiting Czardas's military. Czardaian territory would be divided among the various victorious CAD states, who would reinforce their sections of Czardas with their own troops. Perhaps this will clarify things somewhat."

Sidhu watched as the Doomie leader talked, a smile quickly taking a spot on his face at the Doomie's words.

"Sir, first I would wish you call anything about Space Union, Space Unionist or Unionist at the very least. Thank You."

"Secondly, no it is not one of our practices. But telling from what you said, I guess your nation must be in shortage of Doomingsland diplomats. Very well then, my words were more of a recommendation rather than a order, if I may comment."

"Thirdly, if you will not leave and that is our only option, then so be it. We will show force. But this is a peace conference not a war-preparation table. I think it is in the best interest of all parties to come to a compromise as neither side is willing to bend. That is why I believe handing back all of the land of Czardas with no reparations and even no charges against the CAD nations for crimes against humanity will be needed. It is simple as that."

Harman slid back into his red seat as his hand stroke his chin in anticipation at the CAD reaction.

"'The position of the CAD?'" Alynda raised an eyebrow. "Do you speak for every member, Severus?" She looked across at the table. "Every member is backing this reckless diplomacy, and is willing to risk a potentially devastating, not to mention economy destroying, conflict? If so, then your blind faith in your own paltry version of manifest destiny is indeed disturbing, and I would urge the rest of you to open your eyes and to reevaluate your options."

"Semi-autonomous is another word for occupied teritory. The Voltarum will not support this blanketed attempt to further the CAD's faulty imperialistic foreign policy."

Lord Masouleh removed the jeweled cigarette case from his coat pocket, lighting up a powerful Cohiba cigarette and breathing in the smoke before starting to speak, turning to the Voltarum delegate. "Indeed, Lord Severus in fact does speak for all of us, though some of us desire other provisions added to the final treaty." Each word released a puff of smoke at the delegation before the aristocrat took another draw and repeated the process, "We, In Parthia, have total intent on rebuilding the shattered Czardaian economy if given some power over a certain area as semi autonomous, providing substantial benefit to the Czardaian people. In addition, we would request certain provisions be applied to a few commercial nuances in terms of Parthian corporations opening in Czardas, in addition to other operations of that nature."

Taking in another draw, he quickly released the smoke in the direction of the Voltarum delegation, continuing with clouds of smoke pouring from his mouth. "We however, if not given semi autonomous control of a certain area, or better yet, total control, will not lift a finger in the assistance of Czardas, nor will any CAD member, we will leave them as ruins, and of course, continue to ruin it if the war is somehow prolonged in any way."

Crushing the cigarette in an ashtray, he let loose a smirk before lighting up another.

Harman watched in disguist as The Parthians repeated the demands of the other CAD members once more.

"Sir, if I may comment, if I heard you right, you will basically leave Czardas to suffer if you are not given your terms? That is not what someone with honor would actually do, as you preach," said Harman with annoyance at their own contradictions.

"I suggest that we go with the plan on total self-autonomy for the Czardians. This war has left millions dead," echoed Harman of the words of other delegates, "I think it is fair to say that this war is nothing more than imperialism on the behalf of the CAD. Hence why I believe that you should return the land but in exchange we will not press charges against you nor have you pay reprimands."

Harman once more slumped back in his chair as the delegates on the CAD side murmured but he knew that inside the CAD would never budge.

Marks sat quietly, watching the verbal swordplay of the other delegates. Due to the stubbornness of both sides, what could have been a civilised peace conference was rapidly degenerating into bickering and threats, with neither side willing to give a centimetre. The Taldaanis and the Praetonians alone had attempted to genuinely negotiate and draw up a compromise, but they had unaccountably been ignored. Marks stood up to speak himself.

"It has become blatantly obvious," the Mauvasian Secretary of State began, "that the demands of both sides are irreconcilable with one another. In order to come to peace terms, both sides will have to at least give up some of their demands, which are becoming fairly unreasonable. However, I wish to call to all of your attention two statements that could help this conference proceed on a more ... diplomatic note."

Marks consulted his notes. "First of all, the most honourable Lord Darwold, of Praetonia, suggested that—if I may quote—the Czardaian state remain unoccupied, but nor should the CAD nations be forced to pay reparations to it. In the interests of fairness, one can add a provision limiting the Czardaian military afterwards, should the CAD find that a source of concern.

"If that remains unacceptable—" and Marks saw from the look on a Doomingslander face that it was— "a second alternative was proposed by Mr Bizon of Taldaan. In full, this honourable gentleman's suggestion consisted of the following:
To begin with, all conquered regions of Czardas will be rebuilt. All military forces must be removed from this area, except for a peacekeeping force made up of equal parts Czardaian, CAD, and Woodstock Pact peacekeepers to ensure that the neutrality of the region is preserved.

The rebuilding would be financed equally by Czardas and the CAD member nations. The shared financial obligation of the CAD would be divided as the member nations see fit. However, compensation to the families of those Czardaian civilians killed or disabled in the attack by CAD member nations will be payed entirely by the CAD member nations. Numbers of civilian dead will be determined by a neutral third party, although as Lord Rahvin has given his honourable word that the casualties are low I am sure that it will be only a token sum.

After rebuilding has been completed, all forces, including those of Czardas, must be withdrawn from the aforementioned areas. A three-year cooling-off period will then commence, during which time no military forces may be deployed there. However, this area shall still be regarded by all nations as the sovereign territory of Czardas. Czardaian borders will remain at their pre-war positions.
"In my humble opinion, Mr Bizon does indeed have the right idea," Marks went on. "A treaty of this type would prevent such destructive conflicts as the invasion of Czardas from recurring, and ensure the continuation of peace—which is indeed our purpose here today, is it not, ladies and gentlemen?" Marks was careful to include the 'ladies' portion after taking in a barely perceptible sign from the Voltaru delegate.

"This treaty can be negotiated further, of course. But I find Mr Bizon's suggestion as getting closer to peace than any of the others proposed so far. Are we in agreement here?"

Marks looked around expectantly, his gaze shifting from the CAD diplomats, to Woodstock Pact members, to the eclectic collections of bodyguards waiting in silence beyond.

OOC: Since there's so much to reply to, I'm going to do them one at a time.

"Ah, Severus, the Royal Isselmere-Nieland Navy had the opportunity of joining your forces in battle over Inkana, when your fighters fled after flinging their missiles at ours," Douglas Home answered. "It would do well for you to remember that."

"Lord Rahvin, with your 6.6 million troops located on Czardaian shores, one must be led to expect that there is but a paltry number protecting your own, unless you arm your seniors, women, and young children. I'm certain there are a few regiments in the Isselmere-Nieland Army who would delight in embarking in their ancestors, er, barbarian ways."

"Listen now, for I shall say this but once. Do not cloak your craven disregard for life behind acts of senseless brutality and pretend you are the defenders of some noble heritage. You are but insignificant motes upon the stage of life. His Majesty's Government has not involved itself in this matter up to this point for reasons of its own choosing, none of which need to be presented here. But, as its representative, it is here now and it is here to conduct business. So, if you CADs can take it upon yourselves to pretend to be civilised for the merest of seconds, we might take it upon ourselves to come to a mutually beneficial agreement without having to waste our time any further with this onanistic sadism."

"Civilised, heathen? Civilized? Civilization is seventeen centuries of Imperial power. Civilization is the constant ascension of the arts of war. Call us barbaric if you wish, heathen, but we care for your ways far less than you for ours. As for the defense of the Imperium...You and the esteemed Sarzonian here seem to enjoy making threats like these. I will dismiss them both equally. I warn you both that for every foot of land you try to take for yourselves, you shall suffer a thousand dead. Step into the Empire and we shall flow oceans of your blood. I trust this is the end of your threats. I, conversely, am not threatening Sarzonia or Isselmere. I am stating fact, and I do not wish to have to state these facts again. Do not threaten me.

"You have said your message 'but once'. Excellent. Do not say it again; it shall spare me the trouble of dismissing it a second time. I hope that Sarzonia and Isselmere will cease their posturing and their threats."

Harman watched as the exchange of words between the Woodstock Pact members and CAD members began to ignite a thermonuclear bomb in the entire conference. As his aids watched attentionfully at the bickering, Harman determined it was time to step in.

"Ladie and Gentleman, I must say that this bickering is getting us nowhere. To be truthful it is time to get down to business. Threats show little about one's character except for fear. Let your words talk louder than your emotions."

He turned idly toward Rahvin as he looked the man in the eye and a smile formed on his mouth, "I've heard a lot come from your mouth, sir. I must say about almost all of it seems to paint you in the favorable light, yet nothing to say the least, is actually coherent with your actions."

"You say that you are a human rights advocate, at the very least a protector? Howcome you found it perfectly okay to raze two cities during the conflict on the matter that they were undefended? Do you kill innocent civilians only because they are undefended? Do you kill your own populace if they are undefended? Please, tell me as I have found your ideology, culture, and your actions in the war to contradict your words here."

"That said, I back up Praetonia's plan to have the land returned to Czardas but you will not pay for any of the loses or face any severe penalties besides seperate charges. I suggest you accept this plan as it is by far the best plan, if you understand what I mean," finished Harman with a grim, cold expression plastered over his smooth, young face, yet it vibrated with a threatening glare. He sat back in his red cushion chair, but suddenly he brought himself up before anyone could react with one final comment,

"Oh yes, all of the CAD delegates, could you refrain from wearing battle armor in this conference? The clothing someone wears tells a lot about him/her, and to be frank, you sir are dressed like a warrior not a diplomat. This obviously is sending signals that you are hear for threats and bickering not a diplomatic conference. Also the jewelry is hurting my eyes."

Harman finished his last comment with a sincere smile masking his true smug smile as he saw a grin on one of his aids along with some of the other delegates. He could tell that there armor was really getting annoying to the Woodstock Pact delegates.

"Not coherent with my actions? I'm afraid I don't understand. Between myself and the account provided by Mr. Alhoun, you have the facts.

"At what point did I say I was a human rights activist? I merely said that I was not a bloodcrazed barbarian. I requested a peace conference. Human rights? Such a quaint idea...Recall, Mr. Harman, that I said that I insisted on it to the point of executing thousands of civilians. So while my actions were motivated by the political goals of acheiving a peace with Czardas that favored Imperial interests, it is obvious that I am not trying to defend every last person. The deaths of those people served a political goal. You should be grateful that their deaths were for a purpose and not wasteful, as many deaths are. I will not pretend to care for human rights. The reason I insisted on this peace conference was because it served my purposes. I merely meant to point out to you that not all your prejudices against the Imperium are true. You are ignorant, woefully ignorant, of Imperial ways. Do not pretend to understand us. You will never truly comprehend the power of faith in the Seven True Gods, in the Sacred Emperor, in the Imperium. You will never comprehend what the Imperium is. Do not try."

"Finally, here is another suggestion for any treaty. The system known as CAMERA should be dismantled and either shipped to the Empire for destruction or destroyed in Czardas under the observation of the CAD. This does not seem unreasonable to me...Czardas has other defenses, after all, notably its air force. I also agree with my Parthian colleague; regions of Czardas should be given to the CAD for supervision."

Marks turned to Lord Rahvin. "For dismantling the CAMERA system..." he consulted his notes as to what exactly that was. "Ah, yes. The most honourable Lord Rahvin is indeed not unreasonable in requesting this. While I do not know how exactly it might be achieved—" he looked at the Czardaians momentarily— "as it seems to be a source of concern for the CAD delegates, it can be added to the treaty. However, due to the significant amount of resistance so far to a division of Czardas among the various CAD powers, I would not suggest insisting upon such a provision, in the interests of peace."

((OOC: I'm here at the behest of Doomingsland and the CAD, of which I am a member. My apologies for a late arrival, but my presence is only just now required.))

The jet engines screamed in Varus’s ears as he was rocketed back into reality from a restless, dreamless slumber. He rubbed his eyes, red and dry, and sat up in his seat. He looked over at the man sitting next to him, a young man in the uniform of an Imperial Praetorian White Guard. Nijan. His personal bodyguard of three months.

“Less than twenty minutes, your lordship.”

Varus nodded and reached for a glass of water resting on a table in front of him. He looked down at the overflowing portfolio resting open on his lap. The Czardian Conflict was written in bold atop every sheet of paper. It was a suitably messy dossier for a suitably messy war. He drained the glass and found himself regretting his presence and his current mission. The request had come from Emperor Helldawg two days ago that a Generian delegation be sent to represent the Empire on behalf of the CAD. Emperor Kazatmiru, despite the other problems facing the Empire at the moment, had obliged, not wanting to disappoint an old ally and a blood relative. Still, no matter his admiration for the Doomingsland Imperium and his cousin Maximus, Varus found himself en route grudgingly.

The entire war had been, in his opinion, a waste. The Warmaster had always occupied the position of the CAD’s ugly stepchild, confined to function within its own arrogant, bloodthirsty tradition. The entire affair was nothing more than a personal grudge, the kind of incident that drags an alliance through the mud no matter the outcome. Fear was useful, to be certain, as was unending military might, but the people and the government of the twisted dystopia that was the Warmaster seemed to know little in the ways of prudence, taste, or proper judgment. Varus felt the world on his shoulders again. It was once more his duty to spit shine a bloodstained saber, this one of the diplomatic sort. Generia would be there to save face, and to bring a semblance of sanity to a conference that, from the sounds of it, was anything but sane.

The aircraft had begun its descent, and in a few moments came to a halt. Shortly thereafter, Lord Varus Tiberius Alexei, counselor and special advisor to the Generian throne was en route to the conference to stand beside the CAD.

Bizon had spotted the thumbs-up from the SpecOps agent, and had actually thought for a second that something might come of his suggestion. Apparently not. Although the Mauvasians had registered their support for his proposal, the CAD and Woodstock Pact had roundly ignored it. Although Taldaan had been away from the international stage for some time, and did not have a reputation as a military superpower, he had still thought that they carried some weight. Apparently not.

Still, the proposals of semi-autonomy by the CAD irked him. This was clearly an imperialist move, and the demands for it seemed to him like a way of ensuring their goals were achieved without the Woodstock Pact being able to intervene.

"The proposals of semi-autonomy for Czardas by certain members of the CAD are patently ludicrous. Autonomy is defined as the quality of being independent, free, and self-directing, and this quality would not be achieved in any state with laws imposed by another nation. The levying of taxes by an outside nation against the will of the Czardaians is a clear affront to not only the national sovereignity of Czardas, but also the concepts of freedom and democracy. Not only this, but your promises of allowing the Czardaian government to retain some autonomy are given the lie by your proposed limitation of the Czardaian armed forces and a continued occupation by CAD forces. After all, it is hard to remain unthreatened, and therefore autonomous, when your every policy is watched over by legions of armed Doomingsland soldiers.

The proposed dismantlement of the CAMERA system is also an affront to autonomy. CAMERA is a purely defensive system for defending the coasts of Czardas against imperialist incursions. Were it, for example, a nuclear launch system, I would have a little more sympathy with your still-laughable demands, but the removing of coastal defences is a blatant attempt to weaken Czardas even if you can't hold it.

Finally, to the Parthian delegate, whether you pay reparations or not is a matter that you may decide, as long as the CAD as a whole pays the total sum of reparations in full. If you wish to forsake your allies, be my guest, although judging by your gangster rapper costume your nation is hardly pressed for cash."

ooc: If you don't want me here, then consider this retconned.

The lone Pwnage journalist sitting in the corner on a not-so-comfy-as-the-representatives'-chair had gone unnoticed up to this point. He was only a journalist after all, not a mover or shaker, or anything else important. Unimportant as he was, he had observed all the going ons at the meeting. The cellphone camera in his right hand was pointed at the conference participants as they spoke, and all the footage was being streamed to his newspaper's central servers, where they would be backed up at least twice in different locations. This was all of course, in the interest of fairness. The Woodstock Pact and its associated nations had notoriously dishonest media outlets. Well, so did most of the CAD for that matter, but at least the CAD were honest about their media dishonesty. The video would be massively distributed if any one of the WP nations was less than honest in reporting the events at the meeting. Or the video would simply be distributed anyway, just because the WP nations would be jingoistic, and their jingoism disgusted the journalist; moreso than the Medieval Catholicism of the Doomish.

In any case, the journalist comes into play only now, because he only started to become important to the Pwnage government now. This meeting seemed important. It could develop into a war, a bloody one. Of course, the Doomish would never compromise, that's just not what they did. And the Pwnage government... well... they would get involved soon, and they would not compromise either, not until they tasted the sweet, sweet blood of WP soldiers, airmen and sailors on their lips. The Pwnage, they were obsessed with sowing the earth with the bones of their enemies. Their huge war fleets and air armadas were constantly at ready, in case any opportunity presented itself. And just then, as the journalist was about to get up to take a much needed bathroom break, the doors to the conference chamber burst open. A tall diplomat in an impeccably tailored suit stepped in, accompanied by four rifle toting guards in the jet black armor of the Pwnage Imperial Guard.

Someone else had come to play....

"Did I propose the limitation of Czardaian armed forces? No. As for CAMERA, I insist on its dismantlement. This would hardly strip Czardas of its coastal defenses...At Palma alone there were great quantities of artillery, and some of the guns were of prodigious size."

Grand Admiral Nausicus was rapidly growing dissatisfied with the conference.

The Sarzonians and their puppets in the Woodstock Pact irked him endlessly, with their insistence on full independence and autonomy for Czardas and their total ignorance of Imperial policies regarding protectorate nations. He was barely able to get a word in edgewise, however, with all of the arguments going on. It was only when the Pwnage and Generian diplomats entered that he seized his chance to stand and speak.

"Might I take the liberty of reminding you all," Nausicus said loudly, "that in comparison with the Imperium's normal procedure as regarding defeated nations, we are being very generous indeed to the Czardaians by allowing them a few more pitiful moments of life? Consider for a moment that the CAD's firepower in Czardas is more than powerful enough to raze the nation and all of its citizens to the ground. The fact that we are agreeing to negotiate is in itself a compromise.

"As a protectorate of the Imperium, Czardas would maintain semi-autonomy—which is far from the hypocrisy you make it out to be, Mr Bizon. Czardas would be allowed to seek its own trade and diplomatic relations and govern its people how it likes. Not an inch of Czardaian law would be changed. Can we get more autonomous than this? The only requirements would be Imperial protection, which would make Czardas literally impervious from outside attack and ensure proper enforcement of the Czardaian laws...Czardas would be allowed trade with all CAD nations as well as with outside countries...Personally, I can see no disadvantages to this arrangement. And no CAD country is planning to settle for less than this," Nausicus smiled ferally, "because... simply think on how much more we could have demanded. This is the mercy of the CAD. Think long on this... you do not want to see the other side."

Nausicus sat down once again and moved over to allow more room for the Generian and Pwnage delegates on the CAD's side of the table.

"Firstly, I never suggested that either you or your nation had suggested the limitation of the Czardaian military. I stated that certain elements within the CAD, namely Doomingsland, had requested this. Secondly, your attempts to weaken Czardaian defences worry me. For a peace conference, your demands curiously seem to facilitate a continued war. Although Czardas does indeed have other defences, would you not agree that it is far less destabilising to the global community for Czardas to have a strong defence than great offensive power? The potential to defend a nation from outside imperialism is a very important quality of any nation. I would like to know your reasons for so vehemently demanding the removal of a large proportion of Czardaian defences.

And to the Bandurian delegate, I suggest that you cease making threats. Such rhetoric will only destabilise these talks, creating a poor environment for negotiations and possibly bringing severe repercussions on the international stage."

"Ah, Severus, the Royal Isselmere-Nieland Navy had the opportunity of joining your forces in battle over Inkana, when your fighters fled after flinging their missiles at ours," Douglas Home answered. "It would do well for you to remember that."

"Lord Rahvin, with your 6.6 million troops located on Czardaian shores, one must be led to expect that there is but a paltry number protecting your own, unless you arm your seniors, women, and young children. I'm certain there are a few regiments in the Isselmere-Nieland Army who would delight in embarking in their ancestors, er, barbarian ways."

"Listen now, for I shall say this but once. Do not cloak your craven disregard for life behind acts of senseless brutality and pretend you are the defenders of some noble heritage. You are but insignificant motes upon the stage of life. His Majesty's Government has not involved itself in this matter up to this point for reasons of its own choosing, none of which need to be presented here. But, as its representative, it is here now and it is here to conduct business. So, if you CADs can take it upon yourselves to pretend to be civilised for the merest of seconds, we might take it upon ourselves to come to a mutually beneficial agreement without having to waste our time any further with this onanistic sadism."
Marcus, who had been sitting next to Severus ever so quietly, could no longer stay silent. This is what the other two had been counting on. He literally burst out laughing when the Isselmeren spoke of their retaliation against the raid on their fleet in Inkana.

The other two struggled too keep their silence. Clearly the Doomingslanders were greatly amused. This was one comeback they hadn't expected, and for good reason. With the raising of Severus' hand, Marcus was immediately silenced, his face showing no emotion.

"What my collegue means to say, ambassador, is, clearly, it was the Imperial Airforce that emerged victorious in that engagement. Seriously, we lost, what? Two aircraft? To your hundred and fifty or so?" his tone was outright mocking. A wry smirk came across his lips

"'"It would do well for you to remember that.'"

The smile dropped from his face when he was done talking with the Isselmeren delegate, for Herius leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. Clearly things had just gotten more serious. Addressing the whole body, he spoke gravely and coldly,

"Clearly, ladies and gentlemen, this conference is going absolutely nowhere. Now, I have sent transcript of this conference to my superiors in the Imperial Government," he held up a small PDA, showing to all, and continued, "And clearly their patience is being tried tremendously. As a result, I have been ordered to make the following statement:


'IMPERIAL EDICT MXXVI-

The Senatus Populusque Doomanus and His Holiness Emperor Helldawg Caesar V have declared the following territory sovereign dominion of the Imperium Doomanum,'" it was about then all of the delegates realized that the shit had officialy hit the fan.

He began to read off a list of Czardaian cities and provinces. These were territories the CAD delegates had agreed beforehand would go to the Doomingslanders. These were territories that had already been previously scouted out before hand as somewhat supportive of a more rightist regime (OOC:Czardas knows where I'm talking about, I forgot the name). Orders had already been relied directly from the High Command to the II Invasion Army (the Doomingslandi forces currently in Czardas) to prepare to push down towards this territory and occupy it.

They hadn't quite left, yet, however, and so there was still precious little time to negotiate further...

Grand Admiral Nausicus smiled. Finally, the conference was getting somewhere.

"Thank you, Severus. In that case, I wish to follow with my own announcement from His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Lucius the First."

Nausicus opened the briefcase with him on the table, revealing a projector and a laptop computer, among other papers and files. Finding the nearest blank wall, he plugged in the projector and began running a video on the laptop, so that it was visible to all.

"We, on behalf of the Holy Imperium of Banduria, hereby claim under the Lucian Corollary the following territory as protectorate of the Imperium." The Emperor's face was replaced swiftly with a map of Czardas, the prearranged Bandurian section highlighted in red. Meanwhile, Lucius named several major cities in the area, where Imperial Guard Legionnaires would be stationed.

Once the video was finished, Nausicus shut the computer and returned the equipment to the briefcase.

"Are there any questions?"

"Not coherent with my actions? I'm afraid I don't understand. Between myself and the account provided by Mr. Alhoun, you have the facts.

"At what point did I say I was a human rights activist? I merely said that I was not a bloodcrazed barbarian. I requested a peace conference. Human rights? Such a quaint idea...Recall, Mr. Harman, that I said that I insisted on it to the point of executing thousands of civilians. So while my actions were motivated by the political goals of acheiving a peace with Czardas that favored Imperial interests, it is obvious that I am not trying to defend every last person. The deaths of those people served a political goal. You should be grateful that their deaths were for a purpose and not wasteful, as many deaths are. I will not pretend to care for human rights. The reason I insisted on this peace conference was because it served my purposes. I merely meant to point out to you that not all your prejudices against the Imperium are true. You are ignorant, woefully ignorant, of Imperial ways. Do not pretend to understand us. You will never truly comprehend the power of faith in the Seven True Gods, in the Sacred Emperor, in the Imperium. You will never comprehend what the Imperium is. Do not try."

Harman let a snicker escape from his lips. He could not hold his amusement from the words of The Warmasterian delegate. He gently slid his chair out and stood up to address the bickering conference.

"Sir, you have hence then admitted that this conference has really nothing to do except for furthering your goals of imperialism. You say you are not barbarians and yet you slaughter thousands of civilians for political reasoning. That has no honor, in most sane people's opinions. That is just cowardness, you have to attack the undefended to gain your goals. That makes me sick," said Harman with bitterness striking in each word. He was getting ready to lash out at the enemy delegate for his incompetance.

"I agree, though, that I can not understand a culture as such yours that is built for war. But do not call me ignorant as I've yet to prove myself that way. I am not threatening you of anything, I am just stating the facts. From the facts you can make your inferences, it just so happens to be that I'm making my own."

"You might wish to make your plan seem to actually be peaceful but in reality I can see through your shades to your center beliefs. You have no interest in Czardas except for land, money, and furthering your imperalist ways. Your idea of a semi-autonoumous state is the same as a puppet nation. I do not take puppetry lightly, sir. And if you do continue on this goal, Space Union and the rest of the Woodstock Pact will not hesitate to cut your lines."

Harman sat down with a loud thump as he stared coldly at the The Warmasterian delegate. The only thing that panged in his mind was the armor getting on his nerves.

"There can be no questions regarding the doggerel of curs, merely the much louder bark and far greater bite of more powerful peoples such as ours. You have made these negotiations a mockery, and are unfit to be considered amongst the civilised nations of the world.

"And as for the Doomingslandian swine who recalls that battle so well, how many of his fighters fled. They were ever so powerful that day. Perhaps now they shall meet in the skies once more and we will once again find your air force wanting in courage, its soldiers hiding amongst civilians like alley cats caterwauling about victory in broken Latin, swinging gladii about much as football supporters, unable to demonstrate their aspirations and ambitions on the pitch, decide to take out their bitterness and their weakness upon the weak and defenceless.

"Your decrees are meaningless."

With that Douglas Home looked disdainfully at the pompous fools from CAD as if he had trodden upon something distasteful and pressed a small button within his coat.

Haffner returned Severus's glare with his own.

"There's an old saying you may not have heard that you would do well to listen to," he said. "Be careful what you wish for. You may get it.

"Czardas will not be carved like Thanksgiving turkey. That's a non-starter. It will maintain its independence. The Incorporated Sarzonian Government will do everything in its power to ensure that Czardas maintain its independence." He turned to look at the Bandurian. "Everything."

Haffner folded his arms and remained standing. The shit may have hit the fan, but it was going to come from more than one source.

"There can be no questions regarding the doggerel of curs, merely the much louder bark and far greater bite of more powerful peoples such as ours. You have made these negotiations a mockery, and are unfit to be considered amongst the civilised nations of the world.

"And as for the Doomingslandian swine who recalls that battle so well, how many of his fighters fled. They were ever so powerful that day. Perhaps now they shall meet in the skies once more and we will once again find your air force wanting in courage, its soldiers hiding amongst civilians like alley cats caterwauling about victory in broken Latin, swinging gladii about much as football supporters, unable to demonstrate their aspirations and ambitions on the pitch, decide to take out their bitterness and their weakness upon the weak and defenceless.

"Your decrees are meaningless."

With that Douglas Home looked disdainfully at the pompous fools from CAD as if he had trodden upon something distasteful and pressed a small button within his coat.
Infidels...so easy to get under their skin...

This foolish Isselmeren had obviously been reading too much of his government's bullshit propaganda. How could this heathen possibly be so stupid as to expect the pilots to charge hedlong into a dogfight with so little fuel available? Better yet, he accuses his own men of cowardice. It was in fact the Isselmere-Nielander army that first retreated from that war.

"You speak of Doomingslanders cowering amidst civilians...tell me, ambassador? Who was it that first retreated from Inkana," he was smiling rather cruely now, "It was none other than the Royal Isselmere-Nieland Army. Now, you speak of cowardice. I advise you to examine your own people. You say our men will cower. I highly doubt it. In fact, I suspect it will be your own men that shall be swept aside by Imperial rath should you be foolish enough to incur it.

"I must admit one thing, though, Ambassador. You have a fine tounge for insults. I, on the other hand, prefer to back up my words with actions."

Turning to Haffner, his facial expression switched from one of mockery to one of sheer annoyance,

"Sarzonian, I have killed so many of your people with these hands that the very thought of Sarzonian opposition makes me want to be ashamed. Your people are by far the most pathetic excuses for warriors it has been my misfortune to do battle with," he said, as if speaking with a child, "Oh, and before you start rambling on about that so-called 'war' of your's with Pantera, let me be the first to tell you that the Empire is well aware of your supposed army reforms. We aren't impressed. Not in the slightest."

His expression was that of a statue, now. The gauntlet had been cast down. Talks were breaking down at a rapid pace. However, there was still hope. Varus, the Generian, was by all accounts a master diplomat. There was still a chance for peace, but it seemed to be getting slimmer and slimmer as the minutes ticked by...

Harman watched the continueing arrogance of the CAD till it finally made him snap. He could no longer take the stupidity and sheer arrogance that emitted from the fools that called themselves the CAD alliance. Harman stood up as he motioned for his aids to do so too.

"I have personally had enough of this bickering and display of sheer disregard by the CAD members toward this conference. Space Union will not take part in a rigged conference that only furthers the interest of the enemy. Hence, we are leaving."

Harman and his aids stood up and bowed to the Woodstock Pact delegates and stormed out of the room but before closing the door, Harman entered one more time,

"We will be meeting very soon, don't worry about that. But next time, lets just say things will be painted differently."

With that he slammed the door close as the sound echoed through the door and shook the chairs. Meanwhile, Harman pulled out a datapad from his pocket and immediately pressed the bright blue button. On the otherside came a familiar voice that Harman loved yet hated.

"Hello, get me the Secretary of Defense and the Federate immediately. Time to kick some ass," repeated Harman in his comlink with both joy and grimness for the fate ahead.

<snip>
"Ah, the fine bellowing of peasants. Perhaps if we had been permitted to involve as many forces as we had envisioned the circumstances might have been different in Inkana. Politics demanded our departure then. I am certain such will not occur now.

"The Imperial wrath is measured only in the lives of the defenceless. The Imperium has yet to face the full measure of us. If it continues down this narrow-minded and obstacle strewn path, it shall learn the power of a democratic state and the Imperial army shall learn to utter new terms from their pleading, bleeding lips, such as surrender, and mercy. Until such time as you are willing to negotiate, I'll leave you little Caligulae to consider the likely ignominious defeat that lay in store for your nations."

"Ah, the fine bellowing of peasants. Perhaps if we had been permitted to involve as many forces as we had envisioned the circumstances might have been different in Inkana. Politics demanded our departure then. I am certain such will not occur now.

"You now blame your pilots departure on fuel shortages. Fascinating.

"The Imperial wrath is measured only in the lives of the defenceless. The Imperium has yet to face the full measure of us. If it continues down this narrow-minded and obstacle strewn path, it shall learn the power of a democratic state and the Imperial army shall learn to utter new terms from their pleading, bleeding lips, such as surrender, and mercy. Until such time as you are willing to negotiate, I'll leave you little Caligulae to consider the likely ignominious defeat that lay in store for your nations."
OOC:He never actualy said the thing about the fuel aloud...

IC:

"We have learned the 'power' of democratic states before, barbarian." he was sick of this guy. It was painfully obvious to all around him. "And we have yet to be defeated by such weaklings. Weaklings like the United Kingdom of Isselmere-Nieland,"

He was glaring at him now.

"We have offered generous terms to the Czardaians, and you have done nothing but spread insult. Tell me, Ambassador, are you trying to start a war? If so, than the Empire will be happy to oblidge you. You speak of surrender and mercy..." his tone dropped, and he ominously spoke, "Such words are not in our vocabulary."

OOC: My previous post has been edited, the fuel comment removed.

Home smirked at the vain attempt to intimidate him. Compared to my drill instructor, this man's a debutant, he thought.

"As I stated, your armies would learn those words.

"With regard to starting a war, peasant, it is not we, but you, craven dogs, who speak of your great weapons and your supposed might. It is true, you have a penchant for brutality, but that does not make a warrior. It marks you as uncivilised. You fail even to understand the simplest of concepts, such as negotiation, make broad demands, issue threats -- who then makes war. It is true I have not been as politic as I might be, but then CAD has once again failed to prove itself worthy of being considered anything but a host of bandits preying upon wayfarers.

"Your armies have yet to meet ours on the field of battle, but my people have met the Romans before and found them ... wanting. I am no less certain that should you continue to embark upon this unnecessary sabre-rattling and these churlish desires that an appropriate arrangement can be agreed upon.

"It is evident that we civilised nations will not permit CAD to stay here in Czardas. Your armies have travelled far, it is true, but as usual CAD has behaved like a senseless, pillaging horde. Still, some compensation may be had, but not in terms of territory. It is a protectorate, not a CAD colony."

OOC: Leaving on Friday for the weekend, so I will bow out at this stage of the "negotiations."

IC:
"Well at least I know what to get you for your birthday, Severus."

Alynda sighed and stood.

"It is a great sadness that we Voltaru knew how this conference would go before I set food off my soil. Once again, Doomingsland and the members of the CAD have flaunted their own ignorant and self-centered attitudes that has made your organization nothing more than an international bad joke. I came to this conference hoping that you would see the wisdom to walk away from this conflict, but it seems once again your shortsightedness has doomed your nations, and your citizens."

"As I am well versed on CAD pizdet' and their warmongering dogma, I see no further benefit of my time here. The government of The Voltarum would like it known that it will not stand for the CAD declarations at this conference, and is already on the move to stand against this injustice."

She bowed to her Pact counterparts, and then turned to exit the room, Cara on her heels.

Upon exit of the building, she let out the annoyed scream she had been holding in for quite some time.

"Ambassador, the jet is on its way. The Jericho has been notified of the situation, and they are relaying back to Ohm."

"Thank you Cara. The Premier will not be happy with this outcome, but it is the one he predicted."

The two waited as the jet landed on the runway. As they were about to bored, Alynda turned to Cara: "I can say one thing for sure. I know a few admirals who would love to open fire at those Doomie planes again. I do hope something happens to dissapoint them."

Moranoes sighed, his collars imposing increasing restrictions on his comfort. He hadn't quite expected this to be over so fast - well, it would be a lie to state that he hasn't expected it to end in a failure, but not so short and not so indecisive. As the other delegates stood and made their final comments, he stood up.

"First, let me express my dismay and regrets in regards to the matter that it seems that we have failed to reach any decisive agreement in regards to the dispute around the status of the Czardaian homeland and the proper owners to which they shall belong. However, before we are all off to attend our own businesses, let me read something from The Quotations of Leader Omazee. In Old Year Three, during the Omzian civil war against the fanatical fascists, Great Leader and Eternal President Comrade Hongaz Omazee said this: It is unrealistic to assume that the people's moral determination and their willingness to exercise the right of self-determination through whatever means alone would topple a fascist occupier in their country and homeland. But it will be their inspiration that will succeed in evicting the imperialist colonialists.

"Indeed, despite its age and the conditions under which this was said, this applies full well to Czardas and their proud and dignified people. No matter how we will go about this impending conflict to liberate Czardas, it will ultimately be they who will be victorious, no the C.A.D., sooner or later. Because they are an entire people and an entire nation. Therefore, unless all of them be eliminated in what ghastly way possible, it will be ultimately they who shall succeed in their quest to preserve their identity and remain on the lands of the country that they dearly loved and valued over so many years. This is not a matter of ideology, gentlemen - this is a matter of human dignity and perseverance, and their faith in themselves. You all -" he looked at the panel of C.A.D. diplomats "- have trespassed their right to this, and for that, you will be the ones who will bear the brunt of the aftermath.

"I will now conclude here. Finally, if any C.A.D. forces choose to attack the Omzian homeland itself during the course of our intervention in restoring the fundamental rights and freedoms of the Czardaian peoples, my valiant comrades at the air force will see to it that their emperor's palaces shall become craters overnight.

"Long live Eternal President Comrade Hongaz Omazee!", he concluded his speech with a palm-on-chest salute in the direction of his homeland's geographical location. "Comrade Loren, what do you think?" he asked quietly, noticing his aide trying to asking something from the corner of his eye.

Lord Masouleh was a bit perturbed at the breakdown of negotiations, but nonetheless, happy he wouldn't have to compromise and could easily get what Parthia desired through military force. He lit up another cigarette and spoke, "It is ironic to see the self declared moderates of the Woodstock pact so emotional and unwilling to compromise. Perhaps, it must be reckoned, that since Czardas has been defeated in battle, that the victors are rightly entitled to force a certain peace. It must be reminded that in this case, Czardas is the agressor against the Warmaster and the current government, and that until the political situation in Czardas improves for the benefit of CAD, which Czardas initially acted upon agressivley, that there can be no alternative but division and some modicum of control by CAD members."

Lord Masouleh sipped his tea from a jeweled glass before continuing, "I call to mind the empirical fact that when Germany was defeated in the second world war, that the allies divided up that said nation and then, at least in the western half, pumped money into it to rebuild their economy and ensure they would never attack their nations again by giving them a government more in line with what the British, French, and Americans desired. Now, it is time for CAD to do the same, to rebuild the Czardaian economy, and to ensure that Czardas no longer poses a threat to any of us."

The Aristocrat took another sip of tea and a draw from the cigarette before continuing, "I hope that now I have made the CAD position and the logic behind it evident to all present." One of the Aristocrat's servants removed a PDA, presenting a map to the delegates before Lord Masouleh continued, "As per what has occured with our forces in Czardas, we will begin occupying the Southern portion of the nation, as the other members have done with their sections, we do hope this will, in our case, be a temporary measure until a Czardaian government more friendly to CAD is installed, after which, we will return it to them, with a present military force to help defend Czardaian sovereingty from future assaults by any nation which seeks to conquer it, though, these plans could change if a situation created by another nation, such as hostile action, forces it."

[OOC: Some of the events in this RP are secret IC and may NOT be used ICly in any way, shape or form.]

Haffner chose this time not to say the first thing on his mind because it was too crass, even for the swine he considered Severus to be. That wouldn't mean he wouldn't allow himself to think it and chew on the words after these "negotiations" ended. Bring it, bitch. Even Haffner was more cultured than that.

"You obviously haven't paid any attention to what happened since then," Haffner allowed himself to say. "The same army you so easily trounced fought a much larger, and dare I say, stronger country than you or any of the swine you call your friends and made them think twice about attacking us again. And that was when we were unprepared for a fight."

Haffner fixed an even glance back on Severus and deliberately walked back to his seat. When he sat down, he sneaked a BlackBerry device out and began typing a message to his superiors back in Woodstock.

[NOTE: Everything in this post is Secret IC from here on out. Any attempts to metagame will be ignored.]

These "negotiations" are nothing but a kangaroo court set up for these CAD bastards to conduct a land grab. The only "negotiations" we need to be doing are with our guns. Recommend going to red alert. -- Haff
Haffner sent the message and within a matter of moments, the three Sarzonians debated what to do.

"We're still in the midst of the Panic Nicole," Lorber said. "We're in no economic shape to fund a war effort. And what about the fates of starving people who aren't going to appreciate our buying thousands of jet fighters when there are people on the unemployment rolls."

"Look at it this way," Newman said. "Our defence industries will have to hire more people to produce ships, tanks, aircraft, and logistics for the war effort. People will enlist and they'll have money from being in the military. That's one way to speed up the pace of an economic recovery," he said.

"Are you crazy," Lorber insisted. "Where the hell is the money going to come from? The Kalifah al Mussilmeen didn't give us $50 billion to throw away on assault rifles and cruise missiles."

"Look," Lewis said. "We don't have a lot of time to waste. We need to send those CAD bastards, especially the Doomies, a message that we're not going to be fucked with and we're not going to back down. I'm going to ask Parliament for authorisation to go to red alert [OOC: Roughly equivalent to DEFCON 2] and call up our ready reserves." Lewis looked at Lorber and shook her head.

"Mark, if we can liberate Czardas, we'll have all the economic recovery we'll need especially if our men play their cards right. Anyway, there's nothing you can do to change my mind."

"How about asking Mike what to do?"

"Mike would probably do the same thing," Lewis said. He'd probably ask Parliament for a declaration of war Lewis thought. Lorber didn't have a chance to question Lewis as she was already well on her way to Parliament Hall with a speech in hand. Two hours later, she had what she was after: An order to mobilise. The Sarzonian army immediately tripled in size and several fleets began to mobilise to await orders.

<snip>
"But was it not Germany that committed crimes against humanity during that war, crimes that the CAD nations have engaged in here? Germany after the First World War did not suffer such grave amputations as those you have plotted.

"These are not negotiations in any case. CAD has made no compromises, and has indeed offered no promises other than to continue along in its barbaric ways. If you could endeavour to be reasonable this situation need not escalate. Yet you have not. Instead you have supported craven butchery as usual masquerading it as legitimate state policy."

Kari Alhoun sighs resignedly. The negotiations have simply broken down, and the Space Unionist and Voltaru delegates have simply left the conference since then. He stands calmly and looks at the CAD's side of the table.

"I would simply like to inform the Doomingslandi, Bandurian, and Parthian delegates that the Concordance does and will not recognize your claims on Czardaian sovereign territory until terms acceptable to all parties at this table—" his eyes scan the line of Woodstock Pact delegates before returning to the CAD— "have been negotiated.

"That is all." He sits down again.

[secret ic:]

General Adrian Longleaf has to read the orders three times before he understands them.

His Chief of Staff, ex-Admiral Kwongji Palmer, asks him, "So what are we to do?"

"It says simply to prevent CAD troops from taking any portion of Czardaian territory until such time as they are allowed to do so by the government. Not to fire unless fired upon and such... Damn." He looks at Palmer. "Get all units on high alert, especially those around Czarna. What are our ships doing?"

"They're at Port Khûfi sir, but..."

Longleaf cuts him short. "Good. Get all crews aboard and have them sail up to Sempernova Island and stop there. Orders will be forthcoming."

The Czardaians begin making their plans for resistance...

Meanwhile, in the Czardaian colony of Silanche, a mobilization is already beginning.

Just in case.

OOC: Czardas, telegram.

[ooc:] Responded.

OOC: Excellent. Let's keep the TG conversation going...

Mobilize:

MassPwnage's considerable military assets were immediately put on alert. A large task force would have to be assembled to both keep the Czardans in, and the WP out.... That meant the assembly of a Fleet Group, at least 10 fleets, plus associated support.

And a land invasion force... That too.

Resistance thread: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=473356

Harman watched the continueing arrogance of the CAD till it finally made him snap. He could no longer take the stupidity and sheer arrogance that emitted from the fools that called themselves the CAD alliance. Harman stood up as he motioned for his aids to do so too.

"I have personally had enough of this bickering and display of sheer disregard by the CAD members toward this conference. Space Union will not take part in a rigged conference that only furthers the interest of the enemy. Hence, we are leaving."

Harman and his aids stood up and bowed to the Woodstock Pact delegates and stormed out of the room but before closing the door, Harman entered one more time,

"We will be meeting very soon, don't worry about that. But next time, lets just say things will be painted differently."

With that he slammed the door close as the sound echoed through the door and shook the chairs. Meanwhile, Harman pulled out a datapad from his pocket and immediately pressed the bright blue button. On the otherside came a familiar voice that Harman loved yet hated.

"Hello, get me the Secretary of Defense and the Federate immediately. Time to kick some ass," repeated Harman in his comlink with both joy and grimness for the fate ahead.

Lord Rahvin smirked as he watched the infidel crawl out, full of impotent rage. He hadn't been exaggerating what would happen if anybody invaded the Empire. The demons tormented the souls of men such as Harman constantly in the Nine Hells...but there was no reason the Imperium couldn't punish him while he was still alive.

He sent the following message to Sacred Emperor Lucifer:

The Space Union heathen just threw a tantrum and ran away crying. I advise, Divine One, that the Legions at home be on their guard. They might just be fool enough to attack.

"As this conference appears to have failed in full, I hereby declare it to be formally over," Alhoun says. "No claims upon Czardaian soil are recognized, and the mobilisations to take control of the territory by force are nothing more than a poorly disguised act of further war on the part of the CAD. Since you seem to have no desire in furthering the interests of peace or negotiating in a civilised manner, you cannot expect to be treated as such. Goodbye."

He presses a button on his desk and, abruptly, the floor underneath the CAD delegates' chairs vanishes, depositing them unceremoniously—chairs and all—in the lobby, on a soft feather mattress, its springs recoiling to send anything light enough flying into the air once more to land on the hard marble floors of the lobby. Alhoun presses the button again and the floor swings back up, then turns back to the stunned Woodstock Pact delegates with a smile.

[ooc:] That was for humorous effect; I can retcon it if people so wish.

"There is a helipad on the roof, and several transport gunships to escort you back to your home countries," he says. "Unfortunately, Imperial troops are blocking the plaza below, preventing anything from landing there. Czardaian SpecOps will escort you," he indicates the blue-and-silver clad troops in the gallery.

"As this conference appears to have failed in full, I hereby declare it to be formally over," Alhoun says. "No claims upon Czardaian soil are recognized, and the mobilisations to take control of the territory by force are nothing more than a poorly disguised act of further war on the part of the CAD. Since you seem to have no desire in furthering the interests of peace or negotiating in a civilised manner, you cannot expect to be treated as such. Goodbye."

He presses a button on his desk and, abruptly, the floor underneath the CAD delegates' chairs vanishes, depositing them unceremoniously—chairs and all—in the lobby, on a soft feather mattress, its springs recoiling to send anything light enough flying into the air once more to land on the hard marble floors of the lobby. Alhoun presses the button again and the floor swings back up, then turns back to the stunned Woodstock Pact delegates with a smile.

[ooc:] That was for humorous effect; I can retcon it if people so wish.

"There is a helipad on the roof, and several transport gunships to escort you back to your home countries," he says. "Unfortunately, Imperial troops are blocking the plaza below, preventing anything from landing there. Czardaian SpecOps will escort you," he indicates the blue-and-silver clad troops in the gallery.

Rahvin was furious. 25,000 lives had paved the way to this conference, and the infidels were so incompetent that they couldn't recognize power when they saw it? It just illustrated a few things; namely, that Sarzonians were ignorant fools to a man, and that heathens could not be trusted.

He managed to find his way to the ground floor and out the building without having to ask just such a heathen the way to the door. Outside he saw his forces arrayed before the building. The place was in his hands. He was tempted, terribly tempted to order them to purge the building of infidels...but did not. His restraint on this was sorely tested; he had looked forward to the death of Kari Alhoun for a long time, who he saw as his Czardaian counterpart and thus rival.

Instead of ordering the deaths of the Woodstock delegates remaining, Rahvin ordered his troops to get on their transports and back to the main body of the Legions, out of range of the city's defenses. When he had safely touched down in Imperial-occupied land a few minutes later, he sent the Sacred Emperor another message:

The war is back on, My Lord. I will proceed as per your orders.

OOC: More coming in the Liberation thread.

ooc: Communication is secret IC

Bizon stood up with a sigh. Negotiating with the CAD had always been a difficult proposition, but he had hoped that the combined Woodstock Pact would be able to negotiate something acceptable. Apparently not. The negotiations had been roughly the equivalent of slamming his face into a brick wall for over an hour. The CAD were just too arrogant to have peace talks.

As he left, he grasped his left sleeve for a moment and twisted the silver cufflink. An electronic charge was sent to a small device in his pocket, which transmitted a message consisting of only five words to the Defence Ministry in Taldaan.

CZARDAIAN TALKS FAILED. MOBILIZE FORCES.

[OOC: Since Czardas approved of my intelligence officer via TG, I'm going to be having him role-play his observations.]

The Agent had been masquerading as a Czardaian waiter and after helping out the foods and drinks for the peace conference, had decided to do what exactly he had intended for this mission - be subtle. For now, his name would remain unknown. The truth would come out eventually.

The Space-Unionist delegations along with the representatives of The Voltarum had left. One could say the peace conference had been doomed from the start. The Neo Administration had a neutral opinion of CAD, both publically and in-private. But however, the Czardaians....were their friends. They could not just let them go unaided.

The Agent knew exactly what to do now. He then closed the secret window opening high above. Changing from his Czardaian waiter outfit to something more different, and his black, cropped hair turned to a blond color - helping, as he was Caucasian. He set up a secure transmission beacon to the cabinet - "The damn meeting was a joke, get in the peacekeepers to save those that want nothing to do with this war that started over a few bloody comments."

With that, and he made his way to get a method of disappearance out.