NationStates Jolt Archive


A Drawing to Die For

Azazia
13-05-2006, 01:58
The Citadel, Imperium, Province of New Britain

Through a vale of cold rain rivulets, Lord Salisbury peered out into the grey mist in the direction where he expected two beams of light to appear at any moment. For several weeks he and his government had occupied themselves with the integration of Novikov into a new state – the United Kingdom of Oceania.

While Azazia had been well-suited during the time of the Commonwealth, the acquisitions of Juristan, Kingsland, the Indian Islands, and then recently Novikov had meant that the state now had only just over half of its residents living on the Home Islands, Azazia proper. Nationalist pressures had long sought to unravel the intricate tapestry of nationalities that comprised the UK and any attempt to include such a large territory within the previous system would have unquestionably ended disastrously.

And so after months of wrangling with Novikovian representatives the final terms of integration had been agreed upon between Salisbury and Novikovian Prime Minister Milos Borovic. Now he waited to return to the Parliament House, where there would sit an overcrowded House of Commons of 1000 individuals – a spectacle Salisbury could but watch as a peer in the House of Lords, an institution still largely dominated by non-Novikovians as most Novikovian peerages had been granted to soldiers and officers in the aftermath of the Novikovian War. Nevertheless Novikovians now held a third of all seats in the House of Commons – and if they ever overcame their own differences, Salisbury was well aware of the potential problems they could pose to his legislative agenda.

Oceania had come in to existence to provide a common identity to the whole of the country, no longer would individuals be known as Azazians, Juristanians, Kingslanders, Novikovians, Datrians, or any of the other numerous races of people that lived within the Kingdom’s borders. From today on they would all be Oceanians. It could very well take several generations, but he would forge a new national identity to unify the various islands and peoples under UK rule.

From behind him, he heard small splashes as shoes hit deepening puddles. Your ride, your lordship, it is pulling around the corner now.

Salisbury nodded, and as if on cue the first pair of headlights swung into view from the South Gate.

New London, Royal Crown Colony of New London

While the Prime Minister looked south towards a limousine, Robert Teaka looked north at a small, box-shaped vehicle, which was slowly being covered in a final coat of paint. On the wall behind him, a small television displayed the live feed from KBC Georgetown – the government subsidized channel dedicated to all things Parliament. Teaka smirked as camera bulbs flashed while Lord Salisbury stepped out of his limo onto a rain-soaked pavement.

Teaka glanced out the window and saw the sun shining, with only a few fluffy white clouds in the distance. In the distance, he heard a loud clang – the city bell was tolling and Teaka donned his stethoscope, time was running out.

RA Falstead, Royal Crown Colony of New London

CEASE FIRE, CEASE FIRE! Lieutenant Peter Campbell safed his own rifle while the remainder of his unit slowly let the chatter from their combined firearms die down to an eerie silence, punctuated only by the groans of men and women laying wounded in the small plaza outside the Royal Army base located within the heart of New London.

Kitchen and Collins, go prep the wounded for evac into the compound. Campbell took his thumb and middle finger and placed them on his shut eyelids, rubbing his tired eyes. For two weeks straight, native Atawoks had protested the creation of the United Kingdom of Oceania, clamoring for independence for the whole of the archipelago they claimed as their own native land. As he slumped back, resting against the concrete barrier, Campbell could not care any less about the plight of the natives – in a colony of 400 thousand they numbered not even 40 thousand. The issue had been put before the colony numerous times, and every single time the majority of the population wanted to remain a crown colony.

But that hadn’t solved the problem, and so shortly before the Novikovian War, after a spate of violence the government dispatched the 12th Peacekeeping Division to the islands to try and instill some sort of law and order. Not three months after arriving, however, the Novikovians launched a surprise attack on the Home Islands and the 12th Peacekeepers were issued orders to prepare for deployment to a post-war Novikov that would likely be devastated. Nobody had known then of the complete and utter destruction that would result in a mere 68 days of savage combat. Instead of returning to New London as planned, the 12th was told they would likely remain in the obliterated capital of Poldi’sk for some 12 months – and only the 152nd Medical Battalion would return to New London in order to run surgical and advanced medical treatment facilities for the colonists.

After the war, however, the Royal Armed Services had been stretched thin, with continued deployments to Novikov required to keep law and order following the complete destruction of the Novikovian defence forces. In New London, the Atawoks raided Royal Army Falstead and killed 23 medics – and so the Ministry of Defence issued orders for New London to raise a local colonial defence force that would provide security to the medics and other government logistical troops in the islands. Campbell had come from the Royal Marines, as the Colonial Defence Force lacked trained officers, and the Royal Armed Services began to transfer men and women like Campbell – those without families or attachments at home – to New London to lead the new units. In Campbell’s case, it was a platoon tasked with defending RA Falstead, the main barracks and hospital facility for the 152nd Medical Battalion as well as the office of the colonial governor.

For the last two weeks, however, Atawoks had rioted in front of the reinforced base – throwing Molotov cocktails and rocks, wounding two privates. Up until yesterday, however, the crowds had remained otherwise unarmed – and then came the first reports of gunfire from within the crowd, a bullet slicing through a corporal’s throat. Since then, the base perimeter had been on high-alert, and today several people were shot by UK soldiers after the crowd brandished weapons. And now, like yesterday, they would bring those wounded into the base for the 152nd to treat.

Campbell poked his head up over the barrier as the high-pitched scream of the first hospital bounced out of the narrow alleys and streets that spilled into the plaza. From afar he could hear several more, the response today was quicker than yesterday – perhaps today they could help save lives. He watched as his men helped the first medic load two wounded individuals into the hospital. They shut the doors and proceeded to the next bunch of shot protestors, while the second ambulance drove up. With a wave of his hand, he signaled his men to open the gate for the first ambulance.

He turned around and watched his men lift the next wounded individual into the second ambulance when he heard the first rumble behind him. He scratched his head as he turned, for the hospital facility was to the left of the entrance – not to the right, the ambulance should not have driven behind him.

2nd Platoon, stop that ambulance! Campbell shouted in vain as the vehicle crashed through the wooden gate that delineated the medical compound from the governor’s offices. Campbell shouldered his rifle and flicked off the safety and fired off two rounds. Unlike the colonials, the Royal Marines were trained to be excellent marksmen, and it came as no surprise to the Royal Marine lieutenant that his second round managed to tear apart the right rear tire.

It mattered little, however. The vehicle flipped upon its side with sparks shooting up as metal ground against stone. Campbell knew it was too late, despite his attempt. It had been moving too fast. Its momentum carried it to the front columns of the masonry structure – and in a bright flash and deafening crash the building all but disappeared.

Suddenly Campbell felt a searing pain in his left shoulder, touching it with his right hand he felt the warm substance he had become all too familiar with in Novikov. Son of a bitch, he muttered. Quickly ducking behind the barrier he felt numerous pricks on his cheeks as a round exploded the top of the concrete barrier. SHUT THE GATE GODDAMNIT! As he watched his men rush to the wrought-iron gate he pushed himself up and once more shouldered his rifle, taking aim at the near two dozen rifle-wielding men who were swarming out of the alleys. The two men out in the plaza were already laying crumpled on the crowd. Campbell found the closet man in his sights and squeezed the trigger, a two-round burst dropping the individual. Clever sons of bitches, he muttered as he took out another gunman.

Fifteen minutes later Campbell lead the remainder of his platoon out into the plaza, where they secured the surviving hostiles and confiscated their weapons. He grimaced when he moved his left arm, and he knew that all of a sudden life in New London had changed rather dramatically. With a half-sympathetic smirk he looked down at one of the wounded gunman. Clever sons of bitches.
Azazia
18-05-2006, 00:21
… and they are as of yet unconfirmed reports that Franklin Harcourt, the Royal Governor of New London was in his office when the explosion occurred. Again, KBC News has received an unconfirmed report that Governor Harcourt was in his office when a vehicle detonated in front of the administration building in New London. We are working at this time to confirm this latest development. For those of you just joining us this evening—

Howard Robertson scratched his bald head while his free hand pressed the mute button for the large television in the Office of the Prime Minister. Turning around he placed the remote on the edge of the Prime Minister’s desk before sticking his hands deep into his pockets. Right now, Mr. Prime Minister, we have no intel on exactly who carried out the attack. According to the military personnel at the base the vehicle was an ambulance that had stopped to pick up injured persons from an earlier protest that had become violent.

That’s not good enough, Howard. Alistair Tetley drummed his fingers upon the edge of his wooden desk, his usually warm eyes now so hot they burned into Robertson’s own, forcing the Chief of Staff to quickly look back at the television. We open the first session of Parliament and find out in the middle of Chancellor McKay’s speech that someone has bombed our administration building in New London? Utterly unacceptable – I want the individuals behind the attack found and I want them to suffer, Howard. I will not have the United Kingdom torn asunder by cowards and terrorists. Not on my watch. Am I understood?

Absolutely, sir.

Very well then, bring me some results.

Cape St. George, Royal Crown Colony of the King John Islands

The youngest of the United Kingdom’s colonial possessions, the settlement of Cape St. George offered pristine views of the lush, tropical rainforests that covered the volcanic island as well as the unpolluted, sparkling clear waters that would eventually have nets installed to keep close ashore waters shark-free. For now, however, Iain Bashir cared little – for the view from his hastily-erected temporary residence was still remarkable.

Bashir had the distinct privilege of being absent for the opening session of the new Parliament as he had been schedule to be in the new colony for some time – and the Prime Minister thought it important to keep that commitment to show the UK’s Irathrian neighbours that the King John Islands and Kingsland itself were vital and crucial components of the United Kingdom of Oceania. Thankfully, Bashir noted with a sip of his lemonade, the colder Kingsland was not under his portfolio – the tropical King John Islands were.

A slight rap on the door interrupted Bashir, who called out that the door was open and stood up to find a Royal Navy lieutenant standing with a folded piece of paper in his hand. Mr. Secretary, this arrived for you from Imperium. Bashir took the note and thanked the officer, waiting until the door was shut before unfolding the letter.

As he read the letter, Bashir’s face fell – he had been a long-time friend of Franklin Harcourt and personally pushed his nomination through the House of Commons. Now, for all he knew, his friend was but a collection of flesh and bones in a black plastic bag under guard at a military complex in a hostile land thousands of kilometers from his home. Now, however, he would have to cut short his trip to this tropical paradise and visit what was perhaps the worst locale in the whole UK – New London. Slowly he put the letter into his overnight bag and pulled out his mobile phone, dialing a number he now knew by heart. He waited just a few seconds before the other end answered, Good evening, Howard, does the Prime Minister have a moment?

Royal Constabulary Headquarters, New London

It’s odd how it glimmers in the light, still damp and all. Yet the sparkling white hidden by such a reddish tinge – it’s a shame really. Don’t you agree?

Kenneth Higgins’ query was answered with a glob of spit that slowly ran down his cheek. Higgins just smiled. With a flick of his wrist the dark, heavy wooden barrel of an antiquated rifle slammed into the face of the darker-skinned Atawok bound tightly to a chair, the sweat and blood shimmering underneath the spotlight that hovered just over his glistening hair. And in the silence of the aftermath of the blow a slight noise disturbed the room as an object bounced on the tiled floor, sparkling in the light. Higgins stooped down and picked it up, and nodded to the darkness from which two hands emerged and pried open the mouth of the native, revealing a broken smile.

Ah, another one, Mr. Allenby, how smashing. Higgins dryly observed.

He rested the butt of his rifle on the tiles and leaned on the barrel, moving closer to the native. Of course, rifles with actual wooden stocks were quite difficult to come by in the modern UK armed forces, and even the police forces, but in New London the request had been made to supplant the arsenals with the older models because officially they served as secondary heavy weapons in cases of riots and public disorder. Unofficially, as Higgins knew all too well, the lightweight composite stocks simply did not communicate what the older, heavier rifles could. That, and as Higgins looked down on the blood-stained wood, the older ones were far more durable.

Now, Mr. Allenby, I believe you were saying something about your group’s best intentions?

Several stories up, a tall woman with shoulder-length brown hair stood with a small mobile phone in hand, looking down at an older man who wore gold wire-rimmed glasses upon his balding head. On the wooden desk, behind which the man sat, there were a scattering of papers. Madame Secretary, I’m afraid at this point we still don’t have a lot of information to provide the Home Office. We’re rounded up the usual suspects – gang leaders, nationalists, et cetera – but nobody has yet been willing to lay claim to the attack.

What about the possibility of foreign agents?

We’ve raised that issue as well, but we believe it to be unlikely. New London is not one of the UK’s premier colonies, while we do have a few natural resources – they’re far too few to be of any real desire to foreign powers. I’m convinced that we’re dealing with a local element, just one we haven’t found yet. It could very well be a new nationalist independence force.

Higgins, meanwhile, let the cell door close quietly before taking a long drag on his cigarette that now hung delicately between his two lips. He doesn’t know a bloody thing, sir. He would have cracked a long time ago.

Higgins’ superior office stood leaning against the pale blue walls, a mug of steaming coffee cradled between his hands. It’s the damnedest thing, Kenneth…

We’ll catch them, sir. Even if we have to tear apart the whole bloody colony.

Central Business District, Port Hamptonshire, New Ireland

The Ocean View Parkway curved along the shoreline, running above ground-level so pedestrians could access the beaches that drew in hundreds of thousands of tourists each year. Fronting the motorway were the commercial and residential high-rises that offered both ground-level pedestrian access and road-level motor vehicle access. Among the steel and glass facades was a non-descript thirteen story high-rise, the main office and production studios for the Kingdom Broadcasting Corporation’s North Broadcasts, dedicated to covering events in New Ireland and the other northern islands in the Azazian Archipelago.

Through the brass revolving doors walked a younger man; his hair cut short and styled in a contemporary fashion with several strands gelled up. His slightly tanned face featuring brown eyes, hidden by dark blue sunglasses his arms covered by a sports windbreaker, to fight off the cool ocean breeze. Tucked underneath his arm was a small plastic bag that he surrendered promptly to the security guard who eventually let the man pass.

At the main reception desk the man stopped, with one swift motion removing his sunglasses and placing the bag on the marble countertop. The woman behind the counter smiled, her near perfect white teeth and bright blue eyes nauseating the man. I have some news that I believe your corporation would be rather interested in receiving.

And what is that?

Suffice to say, current events.

The woman politely scoffed at the statement of the obvious. Alright, if you would just like to fill out these forms here, she added while reaching below the desk for a clipboard.

That’s not necessary, I give this information for free for the greater good of the community. The man promptly replaced the sunglasses and returned to the streets from which he had come without the bag – which the secretary opened to reveal a small slim jewel case, inside a DVD labeled “New London.”

Office of the Prime Minister, The Citadel, Imperium, New Britain

… and so in all honesty Sean, I don’t think we can get the extra three billion pounds out of Parliament – our party is already nervous about further defence expenditures as they look to militaristic. Lord Salisbury paused to take a sip from his steaming tea, his pinky raised ever so slightly off the china handle. In his office sat the Secretary of State for Defence, both men turning as there came a sudden knock on the door. Come in, Salisbury called out.

I’m sorry to interrupt, your lordship, Robertson announced. But I think you should see this. The Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff continued walking across the room until he found a remote for the mounted television on a small end table. With a single push of a button the screen flickered to life, revealing the familiar identity of the KBC in the bottom of the screen with “Breaking News” appearing in a bold white font at the bottom of the screen. Yet instead of an anchor there was a green flag with some words written in an Arabic script and an unmasked youth cradling an AK-47 in his arms. His eyes remained steady as he read calmly from a script obviously behind the camera.

That which you have seen in New London I have done in the name of Allah…

Robertson shook his head as the youth continued to read, bloody hell, he muttered. A quick glance over at his boss found the Prime Minister’s sight hardening into a cold, icy glare.

Howard, get me Mr. Bashir.
Ottoman Khaif
18-05-2006, 01:23
KLM Foreign Ministry, Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

Foreign Minister Farhri Koruturk (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/mishkin1.jpg) read the latest reports from Ambassador Habis Al-Majali (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/7eb6565f.jpg), the ambassador to Azazia. The reports detail the latest events in Azazia , the most unsetting part of the report, was the section on suicide bombings…the fact that Khailfah Muslims brothers half way around the world would do such a thing was most unnerving for the KLM government, since they were the Khaiflah,therefore the overall leading Muslim nation of the world. It was their duty to keep that image of Islam pure and not twisted…but events like this didn’t help it too much…

The Foreign Minister finish reading the report, and send it to Sultan Office, so the Sultan can have a look at it and give his opinion on the matter.
Azazia
19-05-2006, 05:32
Port Hamptonshire, New Ireland

Yo, check this out, Dylan Shaw waved his scrawny, bare forearm at his long-haired friend Kyle – who was smiling and making small talk with the cute girl behind the counter of the trendy café the two frequented after classes.

In a minute, man.

Shaw smiled and dismissed his buddy with another slightly different wave of the hand. Mounted to the one corner of the room was a shelving unit that housed a small television, tuned to KBC News with its continuing coverage of the bombing in New London. All day, however, Shaw had been sitting in a studio in silence, recreating a cube that happened to be placed before him on a small stool. As the programme replayed the terrorist’s message, Shaw sat mesmerized by the fact that another person his age would willingly kill himself – let alone for a deity.

He had come to Port Hamptonshire to attend the Royal Academy of the Fine Arts Port Hamptonshire – some distance from his hometown of Tamora just outside of Queensbury, the artistic centre of the Home Islands. He inherited his true artistic and free-spirited side from his mother, who had subscribed to the free-love movements of the 20th century before eventually marrying a well-to-do architect and having her only child – Dylan, named for the great American songwriter to the partial dismay of the more classically inclined father. All the same, Dylan didn’t care much for the American’s music. Then again, he didn’t care too much for his parents either.

Sheila’s gonna come by our place when she gets done tonight, that cool with you?

With a turn of his head, Shaw ripped himself away from the television screen and found his roommate standing behind him, his left hand leaning on the back of Shaw’s chair. Yeah, sure, check this shit out, though.

What’s going on?

The suicide attack down in New London, it wasn’t any separatist – turns out its some Islamowacko. Blabbed on about some Allah and Mohammed shit and then the tape ends.

Weird, Shaw’s friend passed over the small coffee he held in his right hand, the drink that Shaw had ordered several minutes ago had finally managed to make it to the table but a meter or so away from the counter. So let me get this straight, he added with an inflection of inquisition – turning the chair around to sit facing Shaw. This psycho hears a tiny little voice in his head telling him to blow up some people and then tells the world that Mohammed told him to do it.

More or less.

That’s some whack shit, man.

Tell me about it.

Charlotte, Kingsland

Since talking with Lord Salisbury, Bashir had flown from Cape St. George back to the Kingsland provinces as he would be flying in but a few hours to MegaCity to negotiate a deal to expand the UK’s colonies in Irathria. His aides had managed to annex some rooms in the local offices of the Home Office, and it was behind a cheap collapsible desk that Bashir found himself pounding away on the small black keys of his laptop.

In the little time he had left to himself, Bashir typed e-mails to his colleagues and aides who had remained behind in Imperium. For his part, the bombings struck the Colonial Secretary as worrisome. Although the UK had suffered from terror attacks throughout its history they had almost all been carried out by various ethnic groups clamoring for independence or autonomy or a redress of some grievance, never before had the UK been forced to deal with an inherent cultural inequity. Despite the ravings of the now-deceased youth from New London, the UK would never agree to the creation of an Islamic state – either at the national or local New London level. Many instances of the Sharia legal system advocated by the now-deceased conflicted directly with those of the established laws and conventions of the UK. As he paused from his typing, Bashir could only scratch his head – how could a liberal democracy attempt to incorporate such radical elements of a society fairly into its society when they seemed ready to reject such a society with acts of terrorism.

Of course, of all the senior Cabinet officials, the Colonial Secretary knew he had the most connections to the simmering conflict. Although he had long since renounced religion, his paternal ancestry came from what he believed to be Arab Muslims – and he had grown up in a mixed Islamic-Christian household. At Kerringwood, one of the UK’s preeminent universities, he renounced religion and became an atheist – and set himself on the path to becoming the first Arab-blood Cabinet member, and the Muslim population rallied around him as the first Muslim Cabinet member (ignoring his renouncement.)

As his cell phone chirped to remind him of the helicopter flight to MegaCity, Bashir knew that it would be but a matter of time before he would be forced under the limelight and thrust onto the national political stage in a fashion he had not yet before seen.

Port Hamptonshire, New Ireland

Against the rhythmic sounds of intercourse emanating from the adjacent room, Shaw hunched over his flat draftsman’s table with illustration board taped firmly in place, a bottle of drawing ink nestled in a small pouch in the upper-right corner. With quick strokes of varying pressure, the nib of the pen let loose the India ink upon the board, which soaked up the material until it came to resemble a face, and then a face upon a dismembered head – separated from a body scattered into numerous pieces, but in a tasteful fashion. Not one of grotesque detail but rather graphic simplicity.

With the pause from his friend’s room came the colour. Splashes and little pin drops applied ever so delicately highlighted the scattered remains of some individual, who was identified only by an unwrapped turban laying in tatters near the bearded head. As the door creaked open, and his roommate stumbled out in nothing but shorts, a cheap brand of beer in hand, Shaw flashed the near complete drawing for an informal critique.

Another pause, and then Shaw heard what he had been hoping for – his roommate’s obnoxiously loud laughter. That’s fucking funny, man. Dude, you have got to get that out there.

Seriously?

Oh yeah, man. Listen, my brother knows some dude at the Press – I’m sure he’d be more than willing to put it in the paper.

That good, seriously?

Absolutely, man. But we’ll do that tomorrow, Sarah wants us to all light up – go grab your stuff.

Sure thing. But hey, Sheila, man. Sheila.

Huh?

Her name, it’s Sheila.

Eh, whatever.

Shaw shrugged and stood up, stretching his legs, not realizing he had spent a full three hours on the drawing. He quietly folded a piece of tracing paper and placed the cartoon within, leaving a small note on another piece of paper to submit it to the Press in the morning. But first came the celebration of a drawing well done.
Southeastasia
19-05-2006, 09:52
[OOC: Open or closed, Azazia?]
Azazia
19-05-2006, 16:49
ooc: it's open, I really haven't gotten to the meat of the story yet - but that should be coming in the next post, but feel free to respond or interact with anything that's taken place thus far.
Azazia
19-05-2006, 23:53
New London

Sons of bitches don’t ever want to learn, Campbell muttered to himself before gathering the saliva in his mouth to spit on the stony ground beneath his boots. On the other side of the concrete barricades were more Atawok protestors, and while the bullet-ridden concrete lost more of its ability to stop the occasionally well-aimed round from the native AKs – Campbell’s confidence lay more with the infantry fighting vehicle that now idled a few hundred meters down the line. Its 35 millimeter autocannon had yet to fire in anger, but Campbell hoped to God the stupid inbreeds before him did something stupid.

Lieutenant!

Yeah?

Hicks wants to know if they’re gonna charge.

How the fuck would I know! The Royal Marine closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, no matter how much training he gave them, the colonials were just that. Colonials. The only consolation about their ineptitude was that the Atawoks were even more inept. Takes all kinds of idiots to run this world, he muttered before pulling out a cigarette. Sure, he shouldn’t be lighting up – but he doubted that the Atawoks even knew to look for a soldier lighting a cigarette.

Port Hamptonshire, New Ireland

That went pretty damn well, I think.

Shaw nodded at his roommate, still nervous about the whole submitting an artwork to a local paper. His roommate’s contact had been very enthusiastic about the piece, calling it ‘dynamic’ and ‘attention-grabbing.’ Nevertheless it would be printed in the next day’s edition and then Shaw’s name would be out there as an illustrator, which was his goal after all. To become a nationally-renowned – no, internationally renowned illustrator.

The Citadel, Imperium, New Britain

The advantage of thick walls, Robertson always thought, was safety from bullets. But he now recognised that they also shielded him from the press and from the ambient noise of civilisation, although in truth the occasional horn blasts and sirens did float across the ramparts and disturbed the artificial tranquility that surrounded the Prime Minister and the leader of His Majesty’s Government.

None of that, however, stopped his headache.

I just don’t know what we’re going to do, Kent. Robertson sighed to the Prime Minister’s Communications Director. Right now the story is cooling and we probably won’t face much more heat than tomorrow’s Questions; but we still don’t have a solution to a more fundamental problem.

Kent Tirrew smiled at the Chief of Staff’s statement. The fundamental problem, Howard, is fundamentalism. Our society, and that of most Western-styled nations is built upon compromise. We all give a little to get a lot, the a lot being a stable and successful society where all of us have equal opportunity.

But these radicals, Robertson interrupted, simply don’t want to compromise. Their way or…

The bomb’s way.

The two men smiled sardonically at their increasingly macabre sense of humour. Robertson scratched his bald head before turning the conversation back on track. So what do we have to tell the PM?

Nothing, Howard. Tell him we’re still working on a plan – but you and I both know there is no real solution to this problem.

That’s where you’re wrong, Kent. Robertson thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks before turning upwards to find some large cumulus cloud floating by overhead. The solution is that we kill all the bastards. Problem is nobody wants to realise that is the solution. Least of all our own party. Only saving grace is that I think it’s so far of a stretch for a liberal democracy that the Conservatives will never suggest it. Commies might for shock value and media time, but nobody will take them seriously, including themselves.

Port Hamptonshire

Adam Heatherton placed his quarter into the small slot, pulled open the handle and grabbed a copy of the Port Hamptonshire Press before walking into the corner café and buying his usual latte. Pushing his arm out of the pinstriped sleeve of his suit Heatherton found himself with a few extra minutes to kill before having to be at the office across the street, for that he had to thank the engineers of his 05:45 Local, which in running late was converted to an Express and somehow made up the time and then some. Odd how those things happen he thought to himself as he peeled away the pages of the periodical.

The Press wasn’t a particularly spectacular newspaper, but it did print the news and so Heatherton read it, ignoring the flash photography that slowly began to consume the café. He read the editorials as he waved off bothersome individuals and came upon a small cartoon submitted by some local. And then he laughed. Whoever he was, the kid was pretty good. Another sip of his latte and he soon found himself folding the paper and tucking it underneath his arm, crossing the street and entering the local KBC television studio.

Office of the Prime Minister, the Citadel
Imperium, New Britain

Robertson sipped his tea while reading the local papers, most of which still identified them as Georgetown This or That owing to the city’s original, and more English-sounding, name. While Imperium would stick owing to the country’s rise after the name-change forced during a civil war, many in the country still longed to see Georgetown, and not Imperium, as their capital city. And so the local papers continued to print Georgetown to the quiet delight of people such as Howard Robertson and Lord Salisbury.

Anything interesting today, Howard?

Not much, Your Lordship. The men smiled, knowing full well that there was always something of interest in the papers that would come to define their working day, no matter how much their schedules said otherwise. But both turned when there came an unexpected knock on the door, several minutes before the morning senior staff meeting. Robertson nodded to the Prime Minister, signaling that he would discover who was at the door, and found Kent Tirrew standing at the door.

What do you need, Kent?

You need to see this. Tirrew came into the room as Robertson stepped out of the way, Tirrew bowing deferentially to the Prime Minister who just waved his hand as he read through the last of some article. With the push of a button the television flickered on and Tirrew turned it to the international KBC News broadcast channel, the station that would be broadcast to the entire world, if those countries accepted KBC programming.

On the screen the three men watched the iconic anchor of KBC News, Adam Heatherton, calmly lead into a story on the Oceanian reaction to the bombing in New London. With a clear voice he segued from live footage of a tense standoff in the colonial capital as protestors massed against a notably heavy presence of colonial defence troops and Royal Marines. What they saw next divided the room.

Still images of a newspaper cartoon that showed, in colour, a stereotypical Arab man literally blown into pieces – his fingers stuck to a copy of the Koran as if literally reading it word for word. An inch or so distant was a bearded head, its eyes wide open in surprise, while an unraveled turban spun away from the head with the text ‘The Prophet Mohammed’ written in clearly legible ink. At the base of the image a text bubble that was drawn to appear as if it had fallen down after the implied explosion. Within it read ‘Allah told me to do it.’

In the privacy of the Prime Minister’s office, Tirrew smiled while he shook his head in disbelief. Robertson rubbed his hands over his bald head, but frowned – well aware of the possible backlash that the UK would see in coming hours and days. And then both Tirrew and Robertson turned at an odd sound, they turned to see the Prime Minister stifling a laugh. Lord Salisbury quickly quieted himself. I know it’s going to be trouble, but you can’t tell me that that wasn’t funny. He smiled and exhaled trying to calm himself. Besides, it’s quite well done as drawings are concerned.
Ottoman Khaif
20-05-2006, 01:11
Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen,

The city, many coffee or tea shops were packed with customers, because it was afternoon teatime or coffee time depending on the person. The people were just relaxing in the shops and catching up on the days events by watching local news works on the televisions in these shops. Must of the people didn’t really pay attention to the news that much…it was more or less just something in the background and just the people went about their daily routines. Then something caught their attention; it was a news flash from Al Muslimeen News Network, the main news anchor Mohammed Sheik Agiza was reporting

“Assalamu'alaikum people of Khailfah al Muslimeen, the following might be offense for some of the you…( Cut to the KBC news clip)



Still images of a newspaper cartoon that showed, in colour, a stereotypical Arab man literally blown into pieces – his fingers stuck to a copy of the Koran as if literally reading it word for word. An inch or so distant was a bearded head, its eyes wide open in surprise, while an unraveled turban spun away from the head with the text ‘The Prophet Mohammed’ written in clearly legible ink. At the base of the image a text bubble that was drawn to appear as if it had fallen down after the implied explosion. Within it read ‘Allah told me to do it.’ and also the KBC was shown in the upper left corner of the screen.

“These offensive pictures were shown on Oceanian Network known as KBC. This cartoon…was drawn by local Oceanians in reaction to the recent terrorist attacks in Oceania by Pan Islamic Rebels. We have yet seen the Imperial Government reaction to this ….insult to our religion…we will report the news updates on this matter as the news comes in.



The once joyful customers in coffee or tea shops were now deeply enrage by what they have seen on the news, their once mundane discussions on local life turn into a harsh criticism of Oceania government for allowing such trash to be printed. Soon these debates will boil over into …..protest and more…only in a matter of time…

This scene was being repeated all over the Khailfah and her Dominions, only time could tell what will happen next..


At the Sultan Palace, Sultan Office

Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/9cf28c18.jpg) was having tea with the Grand Vizier, when the broadcast happen…he stopped drinking his tea and place it on the table and remarked.

“Oh…bloody fuckin hell…those sons of bitches…depict our Prophet as nothing as terrorist and his message that he send to mankind……was depicted…as religion of Terrorism …how the bloody hell dare they do such a thing…..get me the Foreign Minister and order our embassy staff in that the blast nation to be recalled for consulting on recent events…”

“ Such ignorant stuck up people…these Oceanians are…..I shall also have a message release to the press on this …matter related to what the bloody…Neo Brits just did?” asked Grand Vizier Mehmed Pasa Sokollu (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/7bcc8e31.jpg)

“Yes, I’ll write the press release, just inform the Foreign Ministry to recall our ambassador and his staff back to Istanbul.” Reply the Sultan

“Very well….they will be hell to pay for this insult…” remark the normally calm and rational Grand Vizier


Two Hours later, the Press Release was send out to the major news networks of KLM

“Khailfah al Muslimeen Government and its people are deeply offended by this Oceanian cartoon which portray Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him. As a mere terrorist and his religion as nothing but a religions of terrorist. We find this portrays of our faith most insulting and degrading. Just we here by recall our embassy staff and our ambassador from Oceanian for consulting on the matter.…
Azazia
20-05-2006, 03:04
ooc: a little bump for a little more exposure
Sarzonia
20-05-2006, 03:43
"You want me to react to what now?"

"The suicide bombings in Imperium, Oceania."

Sarzo winced when he heard the name Oceania. Not connected to the region where Sarzonia made its home for years. Oceania, as in the new name that the nation that seemingly would criticise Sarzonia at first opportunity if anyone in the Cabinet sneezed. Now Press Secretary Heather Lloyd was asking him to issue a statement about the bombing.

"Can I get away with 'we don't give a fuck'," Sarzo asked in an effort to make a joke to lighten the mood, but when he saw the look on Lloyd's face, he saw how poorly that joke went over. Even being the president of your country didn't give you the magical ability to be funny at all times.

"Considering the fact that Azazia, er, I mean Oceania, did next to nothing to help us out of the Panic, I'm not inclined to do much more than send a sympathy card," Sarzo said as his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze turned cold. Lloyd got the message: Sarzonia was not going to do or say very much about the tragedy.

"Well, what about this," Lloyd said as she pointed to the tele. The anchorman from SBC Nightly News was talking about some cartoon that was causing a major controversy in Oceania. The graphic showed the cartoon in the newspaper and various people from both sides of the issue talking about the cartoon.

"What do you want me to do? Condemn someone?"

"Sarzo that's up to you," Lloyd said. "But if you want another reason to tweak the Oceanian lion, here's your chance."

"They're probably going to cite freedom of expression."

"But then you've got the Khailfah on the other side of the equation."

Sarzo physically took a half step back. Anyone who knew him knew his brain was churning the facts. On the one hand, a country that espouses freedom of speech and expression is being castigated for allowing that right to manifest itself in a way that patently offended an entire group of people and Sarzonia was one of the fiercest proponents of freedom of speech.

However, the issue wasn't nearly that simple. This wasn't Doomingsland taking an action that was worthy of condemnation. This was a Khailfah al Musilmeen government that was instrumental in Sarzonia's economic recovery. They were there when some nations that professed themselves to be Sarzonia's staunchest friends abandoned them in its hour of need. And Sarzonians never forget people who stab them in the back or those who willingly take a bullet for them.

In short, this was both an issue of freedom of speech but it was also an act by a nation that was hardly cozy with Sarzonia. It was a situation where the offended party was a nation that was making economic and political overtures toward establishing stronger ties with Sarzonia. It made Sarzo's next move highly delicate. Make the wrong one or show all the finesse of a zeppelin in heat and he'd find his nation and his government in hot water.

All of those thoughts went through his head in the few seconds that Lloyd waited for his response, watching patiently to see what he'd have to say. Finally, she snapped her fingers just millimetres from his eyes.

"Sarzo? C'mon you'll be on in 10 seconds."

"Oh shit." Sarzo quickly looked toward the camera and mentally prepared as he heard the countdown.

"And action!"

"My fellow Sarzonians, members of the international community," Sarzo began. "Today, the fallout from the Port Hamptonshire Press's decision to print a cartoon that depicted the Prophet Mohammed as a terrorist has resulted in incrimination and controversy that threatens to cause a rift throughout the free world.

"The Incorporated Sarzonian Government fervently believes in the freedom of the press and of expression. Those are rights that are near and dear to our hearts and have been even in the hundreds of years even preceeding Sarzonia's existence as a nation. The right of the people to express their views through various media is one that we cherish deeply.

"However, in so doing, the Port Hamptonshire Press have greatly offended the Khailfah al Musilmeen government and people who revere the Prophet Mohammed and view the cartoon as an insult to their religion. As a result, this situation has pitted the Empire of Oceania against the Khailfah al Musilmeen in a battle of recrimination.

"This series of circumstances has put the Incorporated States of Sarzonia in a very difficult situation. Our nation fiercely defends the right of freedom of speech and protects the rights of people to observe whatever religion they see fit. Both rights are codified in our Constitution. But the question this situation places before us is whether the freedom of expression allows people to say whatever they want. It forces us to ask ourselves if the freedom of speech precludes a freedom from being offended.

"The Port Hamptonshire Press is guilty of at least one thing. It has exercised poor editorial judgment in printing a cartoon that has caused such controversy. It has also demonstrated an apparent lack of cultural sensitivity toward Muslims the world over, the majority of whom are peaceful people who abhor the extremist acts that dominate our headlines. For that, we call upon the Port Hamptonshire Press to exercise greater caution in the future and to clarify editorially what it intends to do to ensure that such an abhorrent act does not take place again.

"It is not for us as Sarzonians to criticise the Oceanian government or its subjects for the actions of the editorial staff of the Port Hamptonshire Press. Rather, our responsibility as a nation is to ensure that we as a nation advocate for a responsible use of the freedom of speech. In the same vein that the freedom of speech does not permit one to shout 'fire' in a crowded theatre and in the legal sense that a person uttering so-called fighting words would not be protected by legal precedent, the freedom of speech in this case also comes with a responsibility to be aware of all possible consequences. That is what I call for now."

"And cut!"

"Wow, nice speech Mike!"

"That was a bunch of me saying nothing."

"I don't think so. You walked a tightrope."

"I just hope I didn't fall off."
Southeastasia
21-05-2006, 04:40
Azazia. A nation that Neo himself admired and respected. The Prime Minister of the Union of Southeast Asian Nations sighed as he observed the President of the Incorporated States - Michael Sarzo - speak about the United Kingdom. And he also held the same opinion of the Sarzonian Incorporation. The two countries had been at uneven odds thanks to the annexation of Novikov by the United Kingdom, sparking both heated debate in the International Allied Defense Federation (Southeast Asia would join the pact after those incidents) the Woodstock Pact on whether Novikov should remain a member-state or not in each of those respective pacts.

The Azazians ultimately withdrew Novikovian membership from both the IADF and the Woodstock Pact, and thus would begin the unfriendly relationship with the United Kingdom and the Incorporated States. Neo desired to see the Incorporated States and the United Kingdom to come to terms and start a more fruitful relationship.

Neo sighed again. Perhaps I should meet with my spokespersons or address this issue myself later today, got another conference to attend to.

[OOC: Consider this a semi-glorified TAG.]
Azazia
22-05-2006, 04:16
Imperium, New Britain

Emily Deveraux held the record for the longest-serving cabinet member in Lord Salisbury’s government – having survived since his first administration in the late 1990s. For much of that time, she had been tasked with the foreign affairs portfolio as the Minister of Foreign Affairs and then Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs – a mere change in title. Yet, most of the time had been spent shuffling papers as the United Kingdom had only recently begun to step out into the limelight of international diplomacy – and even then Deveraux allowed Lord Salisbury to take centre stage.

She had missed the first coverage of the cartoon on the KBC, but her office was soon inundated with communiqués from various Foreign Office personnel scattered across the globe – each sent from a diplomat worried about the official government reaction. On her laptop screen sat three such e-mails, but with the knock on the door she closed the screen and politely called in the person at the door.

Good morning, Madame Secretary, called out a younger individual, with bright brown eyes and a light-brown mess of hair atop a squar-ish, but not altogether unattractive head. Howard Winchester was the MP for Dunbury in Rimbaldt and had been appointed by Lord Salisbury, upon Deveraux’s request, as the Minister of State for International Relations – the most senior position second only to that of the Secretary.

Good morning, Howard. What can I do for you?

Winchester smiled, well a cup of tea would be swell – but outside of that, just some direction on how we’re to react to queries by foreign governments about this whole cartoon affair.

Outside of it being ludicrous?

Winchester merely smirked as he pulled a small paper out of his sportscoat’s inner pocket. Unfortunately, this just came across the wires. He handed over a copy of the KLM press release, which Deveraux devoured quickly before leaning all the way back into her leather chair. I take it, Madame Secretary, that we cannot simply say ‘mind your own bloody business’?

I doubt the Sultan would take too kindly to that phrase, at least, in such a wording. Deveraux crossed her hands and interlaced her fingers, tapping her fist against the desk ever so slightly. The rather rapid reaction on the part of the KLM government had come as a surprise to the Foreign Office, which was usually accustomed to slow and lethargic responses to happenings within the UK – but the cartoon had seemed to have struck a raw nerve. The KBC coverage from Istanbul was but a testament to that fact.

Deveraux shook her head, I think I’m going to have to meet with the Prime Minister about that. What about— A second knock on the door interrupted their brief conversation, though this knock had been – unlike Winchester’s – unexpected. Yes?

Madame Secretary, Mr. Habis Al-Majali has come to deliver a letter to you.

Bloody hell, Winchester muttered.

Send him in, Alice, Deveraux called out, motioning for Winchester to move to a standing position behind her.

As the ambassador walked in, the tension built rather quickly, the man’s brown eyes burning with rage. Yet to his credit, Deveraux noted the calm and cool voice with which he spoke. Madame Secretary, I have come to inform you that I and my diplomatic staff have been recalled for consultations on this most insulting matter of religious intolerance within the United Kingdom.

Office of the Prime Minister, the Citadel
Imperium, New Britain

I will give credit to the man, that was rather well done. Lord Salisbury waved his hand at his personal aide, signaling him to mute the KBC broadcast of President Sarzo’s speech. In but a few hours, he had felt the pressure of the international community grow just slightly stronger upon the United Kingdom. Sarzo’s reaction had been anticipated since the UK’s involvement in Seaburg had been designed to entirely prevent any nation from rendering any aid to a country in dire economic straits.

Nevertheless, Your Lordship, we need to react, Howard Robertson added from the far side of the room.

Have Kent give me the speech and I’ll deliver it right now.

I’m not quite certain we should go that route, Mr. Prime Minister.

Salisbury rose an eyebrow at his Chief of Staff, who drew up a chair to the opposite side of Salisbury’s desk. The Sarzonians have admitted, more or less, that it is an issue of free speech while the Khailfah has obviously over-reacted—

I still don’t understand why they felt the need to pull out their ambassador, at least this early in the game, Howard.

I agree, Your Lordship, but that’s the catch. Why should you respond? Okay, so the Sultan released a statement and so did the Sarzonian President, but to have you responding to international criticism gives their argument the gravitas it now lacks.

Emily?

I was thinking Howard. He’s a bright MP and he is the Minister of State for International Relations. With your permission I’d like to have Kent write up a small statement for Howard to read in, say an hour or so.

Salisbury closed his eyes and rubbed them lightly with his callused fingers. For a moment he rested his forehead on his hands, his elbows braced against his desktop.

Press Room, The Foreign Office
Imperium, New Britain

Winchester looked out at the crowd, a sea of reporters and cameras and microphones. It wasn’t his first press statement, but every time he gave one the fact that it was him and not his boss or even his boss’s boss reading the piece of paper gave him slight pause. He reached down into the podium and withdrew the glass of water and took a small sip to wet his throat before placing the glasses on his nose and pulling out the papers from the leather dossier. While he had access to a teleprompt, the sight of a bespectacled junior minister responding to the international concerns from a piece of paper just felt more appropriate so far as he was concerned.

Ladies and gentlemen of the international community, it is the position of His Majesty’s Government that the concerns about the most recent publication of the Port Hamptonshire Press are categorically without merit. The United Kingdom and its predecessor the Commonwealth have long held paramount the freedom of individuals and the private sphere to speak without censorship or imposition from His Majesty’s Government as the keystone to a civilised liberal democracy.

Of course this freedom of speech does not preclude individuals from making thoughtless or libelous remarks, but it enshrines the right of said individuals to make such remarks – as well as enshrining the right of the masses to respond to such statements. And so while His Majesty’s Government may reject any mischaracterization of religious symbols it is not within its powers to stop any individual or organisation from printing such mischaracterization. Those who would be offended have the right to respond through speech or by simply not buying the paper in question.

Thank you, and good day.

Winchester smiled and ignored the hundreds of flashes that exploded in the crowded room, and politely waved off the dozens of shouted questions.
Ottoman Khaif
22-05-2006, 05:12
Sultan conference room, Sultan Palace, Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

The Sultan Cabinet was in meeting, the latest reply from Oceanians was most unsetting for them…

“OH BLOODY HELL….”remark the Sultan reading the latest statement from the blast Oceanians

“Well they are making matters worse…..for themselves..its only matter of time..” remarked the Grand Vizier

“All they had to bloody freakin do is to just. …be remorseful or something….sure we understand the ideas of freedom of speech…yet to twist freedom of speech as excuse to insult our faith….that’s unacceptable…bloody sons of britches don’t understand….that we are a Pan Islamic State..just this bloody cartoon..is the most insulting thing to us…..by portray the messenger of god as….terrorist how dare they…this is unforgivable offense will never be forgotten. Damn morons must know there is fine line …between freedom of expression and crossing the line…and this cross the line…….they will be hell to pay for this….but…its not our government that’s going to make them pay hell for it..oh no..it will be our people that will make them pay hell for it…thought their actions….which we must watch carefully…” said Prime Minister Uthman Bin Bashir (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/081600f2.jpg)

“Yes…we must watch our people and make sure nothing crazy…happens…..its only matter of time before…the massive protest break out….Minister of Interior…order the Police Departments Corps…to be out in full forces…the protests are going are to be…very violent..only in a matter of time…” said the Sultan

“It shall be done, my Sultan…the Police will be out in full force to maintain order in these trying…times…thanks to the blast Neo British. All the Imperial and Dominion Police Departments will be out on force.” remarked Minister of Internal Affairs Dr. Sayyid Faisal bin Turki (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Abdullah.jpg)

Then a Imperial Black Guard Officer enter the room and said “ My Sultan…turn on the T.V….there is something important you must see…”

The Sultan nodded his head and the officer turn on the television

KNN
It was an another news flash from Al Muslimeen News Network, the main news anchor Mohammed Sheik Agiza was reporting

“Assalamu'alaikum people of Khailfah al Muslimeen, a number of respect Islamic scholars and Imams have call for a national boycotted on all Oceanian products. Also they call for a massive protest to held after Friday prayer, we will have our reporters at scene of these protest, intill then. This is KNN reporting.”

“Oh…great…this keeps getting better and better…no?” remarked the Sultan

“Yes it does..”reply the Grand Vizier

"We're in for a long day tomorrow...a Friday that will never be forgotten....by many..." said the Prime Minister
Hamptonshire
22-05-2006, 07:23
Foreign Ministry Office, White Palace, Obsidia

The Foreign Ministry, like all government agencies throughout the "new" Hamptonian Empire, was abuzz with activity. Domestic departments had to organize new empire-wide elections and bring the nearly six and a half billion citizens of the Dominions into the fold of the new order. The Foreign Ministry was caught up in the act too. It fell to the Foreign Ministry to craft the executive policies that would formally establish imperial foreign policy. Whereas before the Foreign Minister only had to represent the interests of Hamptonshire, now he had to keep an ear and eye out for anything that could concern the Grand Archduchy and the ten Dominions.

Dr. Wolfgang Hayek still relished his role as the center of Hamptonian diplomacy. Until the collapse of The Regency he was only a former Ambassador and mid-level Minister of State. With the ascension of the Lord Protector he had become Acting Foreign Minister and would continue in that capacity until the new elections. Elections that were increasingly starting to occupy his thoughts . . .

---------

Dr. Hayek and his senior staff sat in one of the Foreign Ministry's elaborate conference rooms discussing the events of the past day. Most reports were rather mundane, but the Foreign Minister simply agreed with whatever conclusion his aides came to.

"The Dominion of Merticea is requesting a formal statement of policy from us concerning their border defense," Hayek's Chief of Staff, Emil Patterson, said as he chewed on a pen cap, "or they plan to issue their own policy statement."

Hayek ran his right hand through his slightly greying brown hair and sighed, "Send it to the Minister of State for International Security Policy. What is next on the agenda?"

Patterson ruffled through his papers until one of his aides handed him the file he was looking for. "One more thing, sir. It concerns the current situation in the United Kingdom of Oceania."

"Yes," Hayek said as he straightened his posture, "I have been keeping up to date with what is going on. It is slightly troubling."

"Mister Minister, not only will the effects of political instability in Oceania ripple over to us but the developing religious nature of this situation may present us with a grave danger."

There was no need to further explain what Patterson was talking about. He was referring to the Dominion of McClellen. It was the crown jewel of the Empire, the pride of all Hamptonians and the source of tremendous wealth. It was also a land of nearly three billion inhabitants, more than a third of which were Muslim. There had never really been religious tensions in McClellen but migration patterns and changing demographics threatened the balance. One major shock, improperly handled, could pull apart McClellen and, with it, the newborn Hamptonian Empire.

All of those issues and thoughts ran through the Minister's head as he stared at his Chief of Staff. "Emil," he said as he rose from his seat, "get me Lord Rosecrans on the phone and gather the press."


Office of the Foreign Minister, White Palace, Obsidia

Hayek loved to call the press to his office. The massive wood paneled 40 foot by 30 foot office overlooked much of the rest of Obsidia. He felt that the office itself imparted the Foreign Ministry the sort of cache a nation needed on the world stage. With the press gathered in the middle of the room he leaned on the front of his desk and put both hands in his pockets. He liked to appear relaxed in front of the cameras. When Patterson gave the signal the Minister delivered his short address.

"Ladies and gentleman, the Lord Protector has asked me to issue the following statement:

The Government of the United Realms of the Hamptonian Empire applauds the Oceanian Government's response, as of now, to the internal matters of that state. The current situation in the United Kingdom is a delicate matter that is best left in the very capable hands of Lord Salisbury and his government. We are all sure that the Oceanians, all Oceanians, will come to find the right and proper solution to any problem that may confront them now or in the future. We have full and unreserved confidence in the Oceanians.

As for the specific issue of the published cartoon, this Government defends the fundamental human right of free expression. Without that basic and fundamental right, no nation can call itself free. However, this right must be tempered by responsibility. A person is free to say and a newspaper is free to publish any material, but there is always a price to pay. All people have to always keep in mind that there are consequences to their actions. What we all must ask ourselves every day is whether or not the cost of action, or inaction, is worth the price.

Thank you."

Hayek bowed his head to the press, stood and walked out of the office out of a side door.
Jagada
22-05-2006, 09:18
New Hope, Jagada

Captain Tai Xun stood behind a row of Yari Samurai--the police force of the Republic. They stood beside each other with their wooden katana, carved from solid wooden and smoothed with a handle at the end which would usually be occupied by simply flat, smooth wood, and a plastic shield in the other hand, with a black strip across the middle and the words Yari Samurai in big, white and bold print. In front of these line of Yari Samurai was a group of protesters, waving signs and shouting insulting words at seemingly none--but they knew there were cameras in the area.

"All this over a cartoon," said Tai Xun has he sighed over the situtation. He kept his eyes ever vigilant, he was dealing with Moslems and knew that at any moment this may break out violent--though at the same time he knew these Moslems weren't stupid, they knew their place. The Moslems lived in New Hope and southeast Jagada, just like they had in Old Jagada. The southeast region had been since the foundations of the now deceased Dark Empire, been ruled exclusively by Christians, despite the Moslem presence. The southeast was notorious for its inherently corrupt and rascist police forces, whom despite being Christian kept the Moslems under their boot. The Riyabuo administration had tried various times, with some effectivness to at least dent the corrupt setting of the Southeast region, but nothing very serious had occured. The Moslems knew that if they even glanced at the Yari Samurai the wrong way they would be savagely attacked in response--this kept them from even bringing rocks to this protest. Jagada was trying to become a Religious Republic, but after being a tyrannical dictatorship for so long, the old ideals of tyranny and oppression were deep rooted in some areas--the southeast was definately one.

Tai Xun knew at the same time, however, that most of these protester's weren't going after the Republic, but rather the United Kingdoms of Oceania, a nation most of these people never even heard of--more less knew detailed information about. Though somehow, one of their news stations had broadcasted a picture of a cartoon, this eventually got to Jagada were foreign media was allowed, and thus this cartoon eventually was shown and New Hope was now in its current situtation. The protesters shouted the common things, about how the United Kingdom had insulted their religion and the Republic should intervene--such a ridiculious thought.

Suddenly one of the people from the crowds rushed forward, he appeared unarmed, and immiedately the Yari Samurai raised their swords to strike him, wherever he may go. He rushed forward and jumped at the last second, all the time yelling "Allah Ackbar!" Tai Xun almost had a heart attack the second he heard the comment, but before a heart attack could set in it--he was knocked back by a earth shattering explosion. His body was sparred most of the shrapnel which including anything from nails, to screws, by the men in front of him. Tai Xun landed on his body and for a few minutes just laid there motionless, not sure if he was dead or alive. Suddenly he heard someone yell "Advance!" and he knew what that meant. A moment later the screams of citizens filled the air. He wasn't sure if the screams were from the bomb that went off not too far in front of them, or from the fact that they were now being savagely beaten by Yari Samurai. At that moment, he didn't really care.

---

New Christiandom, Jagada

"...reports from the southeast region are shady, but there has been reports of a suicide bombing in New Hope against Yari Samurai forces trying to contain a protest by Moslems against the recently very controversial Muhammad Cartoon, which has sent shockwaves throughout the Moslem World..."

The television screen went black as Foreign Minister Alfred Rednight pressed a button on the remote controller then allowing his head to sink into his hands. Sitting at the desk in front of him, Highest Minister Riyabuo sat looking similarily distrested. "Damage control is going to be extensive. I expected prottests, even riots...but not this," admitted Rednight.

"Same here," replied Riyabuo. She sighed, and thought about how to make the best of the situtation. "Well we know now that there is extremeist elements in Jagada, I suppose it is to be expected."

Rednight raised an eyebrow, "How so?" He looked more than a bit skeptic. "The southeast region has never been know for its wealth, the Moslems live in mediocracy. Even though we are a Republic, the southeast region has attempted to retain York's Anti-Islamic policies. With all that, not to mention a police force that acts like an army, and politicans whom consider you second rate citizens, with a Central Government unable and and at some levels, unwilling, to help you. You tell me if you wouldn't go to extreme measures to improve your situtation."

Rednight chuckled, "So you think that this cartoon thing simply will give the extremeists a reason to make some noise?" He laughed out loud as Riyabuo nodded her head. "The question now, Madame Minister, is whom do we support? The United Kingdom or the Khailfah al Muslimeen?"

Riyabuo gave an empty smirk, "That should be obvious. We don't bow to extremeists of coarse, but if we align with the Khailfah then we subdue the Moslem population for at least another Highest Minister election, and we keep that region from going hostile. We also earn some points with the Sultan, and we are looking for allies these days."

Rednight sighed, shrugging his should clearly showing he disagreed but wasn't going to argue, "I'll get everything set up for a speech."

It was only a matter of time, maybe three hours, before Riyabuo was sitting behind her desk looking directly ahead at the camera in front of her. The man behind it counted down silently on one hand: Five...Four...Three...Two...One.

"Greetings Jagites and the International Community. I am Highest Minister Riyabuo Kalia of the Monotheistic Republic of Jagada. The recent events in the United Kingdoms which includes the suicide bombing in the name of the Islamic Allah and Prophet Muhammad, have sent shockwaves throughout the Islamic World. Recently in Jagada, a suicide bombing occured at New Hope, killing at least three police officers and wounding several more. This has promtped my administration and myself to make a formal statement in regards to this cartoon illistrated by an Oceanian.

Jagada, despite being an extremely religious nation, mainly Christian, we have always charished the ideals of freedom of speech, almost to unheard of levels for a society like ours. Though the Republic, and myself, have always known that society is never to be totally free. Limitations and restrictions need to be put into place to ensure everyone is content in their station and soceity runs smoothly. The illistration of this cartoon is nothing new to Jagada, the manner in which was handled, however, is. The Oceanian Port Hamptonshire Press has shown poor judgement in what it permits to be published by its news broadcasters and newspaper. This has led to the death of three Jagites, and the wounding of several more--as a side affect of this.

I would like to encourage the Oceanian Imperium to take care of this situtation in a positive, productive, and peaceful manner. To try and inform its press to remain more sensitive to others peoples religious viewpoints and the facts that what they produce in their country--will not simply just damage their own country, but may indeed end lives needlessly in other countries.

Good day, and May God Bless You."

As the red light on the camera went off--Riyabuo sighed. This was going to be a messy situtation.
Ottoman Khaif
23-05-2006, 02:44
Friday…

Thought out the many mosques in the Khailfah. The Call for Jumu’ah prayer was heard throughout city of Istanbul. During the prayer…the streets of Istanbul, were still…during Jumu’ah..its was tranquil to see the busy streets empty and quite..But it all change only in a matter of time.. This scene was repeated over all the Khailfah and her Dominions. The speakers at the mosques give their sermons, on topics variety from strong practical slant, trying to integrate and apply the Islamic beliefs and historical teachings into the contemporary daily life. Shortly after the prayer, the worshiped exited the mosques, they were from all walks of life. It was a known fact the Sultan and his cabinet often prayed at Blue Mosque. Yet today something was different compares to the other Jumu’ah prayers.. instead of the people going back to their daily business after the prayers, they gather in groups and began organizing for the massive protest march.

Roughly 30 minutes later, the Protest began like clock work and the Police were there ready to maintain order, according to KLM law, the protest organizers must notified the Police on where and when the protest were to happen. KNN was reporting the events as they happened.

KNN

The main news anchor Mohammed Sheik Agiza was reporting

“Assalamu'alaikum people of Khailfah al Muslimeen, major protests are now breaking out in following cities, the list shall be coming up shortly

The List of cities

Istanbul, Ankara, Beirut, Damascus, Jerusalem, Alexandria, Cairo, Tripoli, Tunis, Algiers, Rabat, Fes, Casablanca, Baghdad, Basra, Tehran, Isfahan, Cordoba, Granada, Sarajevo,Riyadh, Jiddah, Izmir, Mecca, Medina, Kabul,Samarkand, Taskent, Baku,Lahore, Karachi, Bombay, Delhi, Hyderabad, Calcutta, Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, Nairobi, Dar Es Salaam, Dakar, and Lagos.

We are getting reports that a number of massive protests are now taking place in the European Union, Eurasian and Syriana Dominions. We will cut to our field reporters at Istanbul Protest

“Hassan, how are things on the ground?” ask Agiza

“They are just about to get started, they are planning to march to Oceanian Embassy and protest from there. “ reported Hassan

Then the camera cut to growing group of protesters

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“They now yelling out anti Oceanian slogans and I believe there is well over 100,000 people taking part in this massive protest against the Oceanian Cartoons..”

The protesters continue their march, under the watchful eyes of the police. Soon the protesters pull out Oceanians flags and products and pour gasoline on them and lit them on fire.

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As the protesters march on, to the Embassy sections of Istanbul. They gather in strength as they march on, they were made of university students, shopkeepers, middle class, lower middle class, upper class, Ministers of Parliament s, Viziers, and many more people from all walks of life were taking part in the protest, showing their unity in anger against the Oceanian Cartoons. By the time they reach the Oceanian Embassy, there was a line of Istanbul Police Department officers; they were order to prevent the protesters from attacking the embassy, to vent their anger.

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But instead of peaceful protesting in front of the Embassy, which they were allow to do..they began to clash with the Police officers.

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The Police Officers fired tear gas and rubber bullets to restore order

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This scene was being repeated thought the Khailfah and her Dominions and even her protectorates, the police forces were trying to best to protect Oceanian embassies and consuls and while trying to maintain order. But the protest were nearly breaking down into….riots…its only a matter of time …before the police won’t able to maintain order….as the mobs got bigger and bigger…


OOC: Coming soon, the Sultan address his nation
Malkyer
23-05-2006, 03:14
As the heavy steel barricade slid closed behind the decorative wrought iron gate of the Malkyeri Embassy in Istanbul, several guards took up positions along the embassy walls. The heavy barricade had been installed after the Embassy had been overrun a few years ago, and many of the guard leaders and senior staff of the embassy remembered that occasion, all the more vividly because it looked like embassies in Istanbul's diplomatic quarter might be attacked again. The embassy guards were on full alert, with orders to open fire without warning on any unidentified person on embassy grounds. Hastily scrawled signs in Turkish and Arabic saying as much were laying by the gate, ready to be displayed prominently if it looked like the protests were moving closer to the Malkyeri embassy.

*****

Foreign Affairs Minister Roland Dawson drank from a glass of water which rested on his podium. He was sweating in the hot lights from all the television cameras, but there was nothing to be done for it. Bloody damned Muslims…their bloody prophet. It seemed like Muslims overreacted to everything; like they were one of the few religions unable to take a joke. A cameraman began counting down from five. His personal feelings aside, Dawson was presenting the official stance of His Majesty’s Government, a stance decidedly more pro-KLM than his own. However, he was a loyal member of government, and would play the tune they required of him.

“As all who keep abreast of world events are no doubt aware, massive protests have erupted in the Khailfah al Musilmeen in response to Oceanic political cartoons, which depict the prophet Mohammed as a terrorist suicide-bomber. As an ally of the KLM, and a nation who has always supported both the freedom of speech and the freedom of religion, it has now come to the Imperial Commonwealth to issue a stance clarifying our position on this matter.

“His Majesty’s Government supports the idea of free speech in all its forms, as one of the fundamental and natural rights of man. The free expression and practicing of religion is viewed as an equally important right. Unfortunately, in a situation such as this, the two rights are juxtaposed and incompatible.

“The Imperial Commonwealth supports, as we always have, our allies in the Khailfah al Musilmeen. However, we can issue no stern condemnation on those responsible for the cartoon in question, since to do so would render us nothing more than hypocrites. We do still urge those responsible to apologize, and to prevent another such destabilizing incident such as this.

“Thank you, and good night.”

Lovely, thought Dawson as the cameras turned off and he left the podium. Straddle the bloody fence and hope no one gets mad? What a brilliant strategy, My Lord.
Ottoman Khaif
23-05-2006, 04:56
Sultan Suleiman al Bashir II made himself ready for his national address to his nation. He had a lot on his plate…right at this moment the Police Departments were busy beating back the protesters and trying their best to maintain order and protect the Oceanians from harm. Even thought some of his advisers thought they didn’t deserve the protection after what they done. A good number of Viziers and Ministers took part in the protest, hell a number of the Sultan cousins in the House of Viziers took part in the protest, and they were all showing their unity with the people. Sultan knew what he had to do.


The Camera man count down from” one …two…three …four …five.. Your on, Sultan!”

“Salaam, my people….recent events…have deeply shaken…the foundation of our relative peaceful nation….this all started from a mere cartoon from a local Oceanian newspaper to Oceanians it was a senseless cartoon mocking recent events within their nations. But to us..this mere cartoon…was the greatest insult to our faith, They had to resolve to depict Prophet Mohammed, peace upon him….as a Terrorist and they….showed his message…was a message of terrorism…We can not stand by and remain silence…while our faith…is being insulted and our prophet being portray as terrorist.. no we don’t let this go by…we won’t bite our tongue….we have every right to be anger and offend…I myself was deeply offend by this cartoon, when I first it…but does this mean we become ill rational…and act out of rage…no!
It doesn’t….we must keep our heads cool….I appeal to the protesters to be calm…your right to protest shall not be taken away…but don’t act like a mad mob and attack the first Oceanian you see….I beg of you…as human being.. to treat your follow man with respect….don’t take your rage out on innocent people…. I’ll appeal to you my people to maintain a sense of reason. Discuss your anger in debates and other forms of discussion…don’t turn to violent…it will cause more harm then good for our people. You have very right to be anger my people….but vent your anger without turning to violence for the stake of your humanity…don’t degraded yourselves to salvages of the mob mindset.
To the world, I address this part of my speech….Khailfah al Muslimeen doesn’t repress Freedom of Expression…we promote it in our nation, within a set number of limits…to prevents events like these from happening…We not here to enlighten to the world that they should reduce their freedoms….we only ask the world…to know there is limit to everything…or at least we ask the world to know for every action has a equal but opposition reaction. This best shows the world, that a mere cartoon in their view…can start all this disorder in one part of the world.”

The Address was over and Sultan was off the air.
Southeastasia
23-05-2006, 12:52
After dealing with an suites - presiding over a debate in the Upper Parliamentarian House involving the public transportation system of the United Sovereign Nations, Prime Minister Neo had after getting up from his bed, arranged his schedule to address this issue just after that debate. After some quick discussion with his professional speech editors (Neo prefered to write the speeches himself, as it was a life-long preference since he was a little boy - writing), the speech was to be broadcasted by private media firm Channel News Asia, live at the Executive Office of the Prime Minister.

--------------------------

Official Statement by His Right-Honorable Prime-Executive Leadership of the United Sovereign Nations of Southeast Asia, Yao Yang Nelson Neo
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"Greetings to my fellow Southeast Asians and the International Community,"

"The Southeast Asian people are one of a diverse culture, and a people that advocate tolerance, rationale and peace and view discrimination, violence and war with great disdain. We have several thiests in this country of ours, and we are greatly saddened that a minority - the extremists - have chosen to blacken a religion by commiting acts of violence to further their agenda, attempting to strike fear into populace to try and ensure the success of their campaign."

"I, speaking on the behalf of the Parliament, my colleagues in the cabinet, and my people, condemn this cowardly action by Islamic extremists in the Oceanian province of New Britain. However, the satirist drawing by the Port Hamptonshire Press was no more appropriate than the New London suicide bombing nor does it help the situation at hand."

"The United Sovereign Nations of Southeast Asia is also a country that believes in liberty. So we hereby stand by our good friends in the Incorporated States of Sarzonia on the issue of freedom of speech and freedom of religious belief. That also puts us in a difficult position, the same position of the Sarzonians - when we speak whatever we wish to speak, do we also have a liberty from offense?"

"One of versed knowledge in history can draw parralels from this event to the Prophet Muhammad cartoon controversy, started by the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten when they posted a series of cartoons depicting the Prophet Muhammad in a fashion that can be interpreted in a collection of directions - including a negative direction."

Southeast Asia, whilst a secular nation, as said previously, is filled with thiests - within those thiests, is a big percentage of Muslims. I myself am an athiest, but the Muslims I know of, are not the militant bigots depicted by certain elements in the media. They are pacifistic, much similar to the national attitude of Southeast Asia, and most would not even think of doing such absolutist actions. So, I strongly advise the Port Hamptonshire Press to exercise greater judgment in publishing such articles.

I am not trying to criticize His Oceanian Majesty's Government for the actions of the said media organization. I am only trying to give advice for what to do in the future. I only advise the Port Hamptonshire Press to come up with a good apology and good reparations to make up for what has been done - at least it will soothe, if not completely extinguish - the fiery controversy and roaring public outrage at the moment.

"Follow what advise I and the Sarzonian President has given you. Perhaps it may lead to a day where Prime Minister Alistair Tetley and President Michael Sarzo can shake hands live on television as friends. I respect and admire both the Incorporated States of Sarzonia and the United Kingdom of Oceania. I only desire to see your two nations to move on from the Novikov incident, despite the fact that Southeast Asia does not have a favorable stance on imperialism. I can see a much better future for both the Incorporated States and the United Kingdom as a result. Thank you very much, that is all I, on the behalf of my country, has to say at the moment."

-------------------------

Finally, the word "CUT!" was detected by Neo's ears after what seemed like an eternity, but what the time period the speech actually lasted was about five minutes.

"Not bad a speech, Nelson." complimented Leong, the Senior Deputy Prime Minister of Southeast Asia.

"I appreciate the compliment, Henley," smiled the close-cropped hair, moderately built, lightly tanned, black business suit and tie wearing man that was the leader of his nation. "I only hope that I didn't screw up and sold my reputation and all I've worked for in the process."

He said the next part of his sentence with a slightly anxious and nervous tone.
Azazia
23-05-2006, 18:06
Office of the Chief of Staff to the Prime Minister
The Citadel, Imperium, New Britain

Madame Secretary, all the Prime Minister is trying to say is that the Home Office needs to better exercise their authority. The planned protest two days from now in Port Hamptonshire must not be allowed to go off as planned, one hundred thousand Oceanians protesting against His Majesty’s Government will be an embarrassment to us and undermine our argument on the international stage. Howard Robertson calmly pushed a small paper across his desk to the woman standing before him. This here is the application put forth by the organisers, now tell me what you see.

The Home Secretary took the paper lightly in her hands, knowing full well that it was but the cover page of a ten page document detailing the date, place, and time of the protest. At first nothing struck her out of the ordinary, and then she caught the subtle and undoubtedly questionable – but still legitimate reason she had been looking for.

Robertson caught the faint smile that crept onto Ashley Thomason’s face. How can one protest in Port Hamptenshire? There is no Port Hamptenshire within the United Kingdom. So now, please, Madame Secretary, attend to your duties.

His Majesty’s Embassy, Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

Seriously, Lieutenant?

Does it look like I’m joking Hughes?

No, sir. Sorry, sir.

Lieutenant Jack Hunt casually placed a magazine into his rifle, and watched to make sure the rest of his unit did the same. Outside the small embassy armoury, just beyond the high walls and the wrought-iron gate were thousands of protestors who were becoming ever more violent. For the first time since the opening of the embassy the Royal Marine unit of 35 men were being asked by the Foreign Office to load their weapons with lethal rounds and then to begin preparations to secure the embassy against intrusion.

Hunt looked down the length of his rifle, checked his scope and then placed the strap around himself before opening the door, finding nervous diplomatic aides huddled around the plaza, looking out between the bars in the gate at the line of KLM policemen who stood between UK firepower and the mob. Alright lads, you know your tasks and your mission. Do your duty and defend the Crown.

A raucous shout hid the nervousness in the individual Royal Marines, who ran out of the barracks, clad in bulletproof vests, helmets with visors and grenades and extra ammunition strapped to their belts. For his part Hunt proceeded calmly into the Chancellery and found the Ambassador standing calmly with his hands clasped behind his back, as if against a surging tide of anti-Oceanian sentiment. Your Excellency, the Embassy Guard is now at their posts with live rounds in their chambers.

Thank you, Lieutenant. I have already placed a call to the Foreign Office requesting for reinforcements. I anticipate an answer within a few hours.

Hunt nodded, for although he had not asked for the reinforcements the two men knew they could very well be needed. Thank you, Your Excellency. With your permission?

Thank you, Lieutenant.

God save the King. Hunt saluted sharply before turning about to head back out to the sun-baked plaza to stand in the heat and defend the Embassy.

Office of the Prime Minister, The Citadel
Imperium, New Britain

At least one of the lot has a right head upon his shoulders.

Lord Salisbury nodded quietly at Robertson’s succinct statement. In the past several hours the situation had grown from something relatively manageable to a widening, potential international crisis. The Khailfah appeared nothing more than a nation of criminals and rogues ready to thrown down because their precious deity had been insulted – Salisbury winced at the thought of a whole new set of religious hatred and warfare, it seemed reminiscent of the Middle Ages, not at all representative of the modern era.

Please remind me, Howard, Salisbury finally added, to invite the Lord Protector here to Imperium. It seems the least we can do to honour sensibility.

Yes, Your Lordship.

But about the current situation, how do you suggest we move from here? I daresay that the gambit of having Mister Winchester address the international community shall not work once more.

I concur. Perhaps we could give some ground, and publicly criticise the Press for their editorial discretion – or rather lack thereof. We could have the Home Office issue directives on how to better put forth the Oceanian way of live on televise—

No. Salisbury allowed his voice to rise just a decibel. Absolutely not. To criticise the Press or to enforce measures that restrict what the press is allowed to say would announce to the world that the freedom of the press is subject to the whims of the current government, that the United Kingdom will bow to international powers as we once did. And that, Howard, is absolutely unacceptable. No, we must continue on our current course.

The Prime Minister rubbed his nose before turning to the door and finding his personal aide standing underneath the lintel. Your Lordship, pardon my intrusion, but ITN is carrying the cartoon now.

Robertson buried his face in his hands. The United Kingdom’s second leading international broadcast corporation was now re-broadcasting the image, turn it on, if you please, Geoffrey. Robertson closed his eyes as he heard the familiar click and the familiar voice of the daytime anchor saying that ITN had chosen to rebroadcast the image to support the freedom of speech and expression.

Bloody hell, Robertson muttered. At that moment the Chief of Staff felt his pocket vibrate, a second later a chirping sound managed its way out of his pants, and he looked at the Prime Minister, if you will excuse me, Your Lordship?

Certainly.

Salisbury nodded at his aide, who promptly turned off the television. He glanced over at his Chief of Staff, now snapping shut his mobile phone. Anything I need to know about, Howard?

Yes, I’m afraid. Miss Deveraux has received a formal request from Sir Hayward in Istanbul for reinforcements to defend the embassy citing concerns for securing the grounds. That and we now have reactions from several more nations – nothing too remarkable, most playing it safe and towing a sharp line of neutrality.

Any of our friends?

Prime Minister Neo made a speech not too long ago, calling for us to heed President Sarzo’s advice of all things and for the Press to apologise and make reparations. The Malkyeri are supporting their allies in KLM and the Jagites have sided with the Khailfah as well – we don’t appear to have a lot of international support.

No, but when have we ever, Howard, Salisbury replied with a cautious smirk. Our first priority must of course be defending our sovereign soil. I need you to contact the First Lord and see what options we have for a rapid deployment force to be flown into Istanbul – and also have the Royal Navy draw up contingency plans for a hurried evacuation of diplomatic personnel from the Khailfah. While you’re at it, instruct the armed services to begin drawing up plans of how to enter and exit the KLM surreptitiously in the case of our embassies being breached and we are faced with the unpleasant situation of having an ambassador held hostage. Then have the Foreign Secretary get in touch with her counterpart in the KLM government and politely request that our troops be allowed to land and reinforce the embassy. Also instruct her to, while it remains relatively calm, have the consuls evacuated and withdrawn to the embassy grounds.

Lastly, arrange time with the major networks for this evening and have Kent work up a script for me. I think it’s time that I add my own voice to this chorus of insanity.
Hamptonshire
23-05-2006, 22:34
Office of the Lord Protector, Hampton Palace, Hamptonshire City

The bright lights and cameras of the press corp formed a near semi-circle around the Lord Protector's desk. He did not especially like the spectacle of his monthly televised "Citizen's Briefing" but it did allow him to directly speak to the people of the nation. Most of the half hour long program was devoted to domestic issues but today the last minute or so was set aside specifically for a rising issue on the other side of the world.


"Citizens of the Grand Archduchy, the Dominions and others watching this program, I wish to take the time to state for the record that this Government continues to support our friends, the United Kingdom of Oceania. They have acted, so far, in the best interests of their nation and with admirable restraint and prudence. Lord Salisbury has been forced to walk the thin line between upholding the freedom of the press and respecting the religious beliefs of our Muslim brothers and sisters. I do not envy him in that task.

I have something to say to all the critics and protesters out there: Don't hold the wrong people accountable. Newspapers and media outlets have published the material in question, not the Oceanian government or people. Perhaps those that are protesting the cartoon have a valid point, perhaps they do not, that is not at issue here. Just as free expression is a fundamental right so is freedom of assembly. It is indeed a beautiful thing to see people coming together united in a single purpose to made their voice heard, as long as they do so in a peaceful and considerate manner. When the line from peaceful protest to dangerous disturbance is crossed that is when we must all take a step back and reevaluate what is happening. Those protesters that are violent, those that are threatening the safety of Oceanian personnel and property in Ottoman Khaif are entirely in the wrong. It is hypocritical and indefensible for protesters who have abused and twisted the right of free assembly to continue to protest people or organisations that may, or may not, have abused the right of free expression.

I am saddened to see the level of hostility that is present in the Khailfah. While I do empathize with those in the Khailfah that feel their belief system has been attacked, I wholeheartedly condemn those that threatened to use or have used violence. It is entirely irresponsible. I call upon the Sultan to ensure that innocent Oceanian citizens receive the protection that they deserve. It is also imperative that sovereign institutions of the United Kingdom in the Khailfah, namely the embassy in Istanbul, receive adequate protection from external hostile action. If the United Kingdom's embassy cannot be afforded proper protection, then this Government will be forced to rethink the arrangements of the Hamptonian embassy in Istanbul.

I implore those on all sides of this issue to take time and consider the effects of this situation. Further escalation, on any front, will do nothing but harm. Only a quick and just end that respects the positions and beliefs of all sides can bring the current situation to an end before it goes to far. No matter what may divide us from each other, we are all united in our basic belief in and desire for peace. Let us never forget that.

Thank you."
Jipangunesia
23-05-2006, 23:47
(OOC: Finally caught-up! If you don't mind, I'll start out with the possible shape of things re. Port Elizabeth, Timor, and all that, before Jipangunesia/Jipangunesians does/do anything. Any major problems with it, Azazia, can probably still be addressed, and I've not added it all to my factbook just yet.)

Timor

Divided for centuries, the west under Dutch rule and the east (including the Oecussi-Ambeno enclave in the west) under the Portuguese. Like the rest of modern Jipangunesia, Timor was, in the Second World War, over-run by the Imperial Japanese Army and occupied from 1942 to 1945, where after western colonial forces attempted to recover control. The end of the Dutch East Indies, which were caught-up in the Jipangunesian movement that, in post-war years, lead to the creation of the Socialist Republic, put western Timor firmly and legally in control of that new national entity. Portuguese Timor persisted under occupation for many years before the revolution in Portugal was siezed-upon as an opportunity for unification and, in 1975, the SRJ invaded, creating Timor Timur (A.K.A. Tim-Tim) as a province of the vast Socialist Republic.

Almost quarter of a century later, during which Tim-Tim was just another troubled part of a violent archipelago of a nation and recognised by few if any foreign powers as a legitimate part of the SRJ, a referendum -branded illegal by the Republic- indicated majority support for East Timorese independence, leading to a harsh military crackdown by order of SRJ President Syungma Santosoputra.

When military operations were declared complete and most forces withdrew to deal with a multitude of problems across the nation, militias took charge with unofficial but widely recognised government sanction. Thousands were killed or displaced by vigilantes, drawn from amongst Socialist Republic hardline supporters and the Muslim minority in predominantly Catholic Timor Timur, under the combined red-green flag of the SRJ.

Since Tim-Tim was never recognised internationally as part of the SRJ, foreign interest in worsening events in the potentially oil-rich land took on a dangerous colour as violence spiked, and Azazia established a military presence in the region shortly after founding the mid-Pacific Crown Colony of Port Elizabeth on volcanic islands -formerly claimed by the SRJ but always too remote for the struggling state to administer- some way to Jipangunesia's east.

East Timor remains a land without status in the world. The Portuguese state that once controlled it has been totally uninvolved for more than a generation; the Jipangunesian occupation was never recognised internationally; Jipangunesia considers Azazian (later Oceanian) presence an invasion of its territory (but has been too much distracted to be confident of victory should it challenge the occupation militarily); and no reason can be seen for considering Oceania's authority more legitimate than the SRJ's quater-century presence. In a way, this place -East Timor, Portugese Timor, Timor Timur, Timor-Leste, or whatever one wishes to call it- does not exist.

But that by no means keeps it quiet!..

Baucau, northeastern Tim-Tim

Having one of the two quite limited airports in the contested territory of fifteen thousand square kilometres and two to three million people, this small city was certainly of some significance to the Oceanian presence and might be important if they ever wished to develop the potential resources, bring in more forces, or extract the ones already here.

Recently, having its own problems, Tim-Tim was relatively isolated from troubles resulting from the killing by government forces of twelve Catholics in the Visayas Islands, which -though killings were not unusual-, being as so many died in one day in one area, had caused an increase in Islamo-Christian conflict through the Socialist Republic. It was all the more surprising, then, when a militia born in the period between Jipangunesian Army pull-out and prior to foreign intervention launched an armed attack on businesses believed to either support independence or to have Oceanian or other foreign ties, culminating in what will likely be reported as a suicide bombing directed against a building frequented by occupation personnel. The young man responsible wore the assertion, "Allah expects me to do it" on his clothing, but the truth was probably that, first, he was not a member of the pro-government militia, and second, he may not even have intended to kill himself in the bombing, which was carried-out in a less than sophisticated manner.

The bomber was actually one of few Jipangunesians at that moment who had heard about the cartoon, though news would soon spread as the government saw an opportunity to turn the large Muslim population of their nation against the Oceanians, and to make sure that the useful minority in Tim-Tim knew whose side the SRJ was on. Ujung Pandang soon used its less than stellar media networks and communication infrastructure to whip the issue out of all usual proportion and paper over cracks in its own walls, and the phrase Allah Expects began to appear throughout the islands.
Ottoman Khaif
24-05-2006, 00:36
The Istanbul Police officers manger to push back the protests out of the embassy section of the city, after two hours of clashing between Police and Protesters. The Protest died out around 7 o’clock at night, and most of the protesters went back their homes to rest and go back to work. Just allow the Police to set up checkpoints and barricades to prevent the protesters from entering and threatening the embassies. It only a matter of time before another major protest will be happening.

Sultan Bashir also order the Istanbul Garrison to send out 4 regiments, which add up to be two Imperial Army Brigades, to be deployed to support and aid the Istanbul Police force in maintaining order in the city and guard the embassy section. But these regiments didn’t drive into the city with tanks…they just came in their BMP-4 Troop Transports and took up watch over the city. Each regiment was about 2,000 soldiers each. So nearly 8,000 troops were deploy in Istanbul alone, to keep order in the city. The 1st Turkish Guard Regiment was assign to protect the Embassy area from any attacks and on when they were off duty the officers of the regiment often visited with Malkyer Embassy Guards and did some R and R with their comrades of Malkyer, and just help easy any tenisons that the Malkyer might have with the protest.

They were the following regiments, 1st Turkish guard regiment, 7th Kurdish regiment, 86th Arab High Guard regiment, and 120th Persian regiment.


At the Sultan Palace, the morning after the protest

The Sultan and his cabinet were in meeting

“ They have rebroadcast the bloody cartoons…yet again.. all in the name of freedom of speech…yet I personal believe they are trying to enflame us even more….bloody sons of a britches.” Remarked the Sultan and then he buried his face into his hands

“ Its most interesting to see the international reaction to this…what caught my eye..its that bloody nation of Jagada …they are a paradox to me…they treat Muslims like a second class and here they are voicing their support so to speak of us…its most interesting …trying to gain our favor….by this action” remarked Prime Minister Uthman Bin Bashir

“ Its easy…they are doing this to gain our favor…but…since they treat our kin like second class citizens…I highly doubt relations with them will go anywhere with them..unless they stop that mistreatment of our kin. But oi…blasted Oceanians…they are going to enflame the protestors even more when the next major protest happens…which is only in matter of days.” Said the Grand Vizier

“That is why, I have order a number of brigades to be deployed in all the major cites of Khaiflah and the Dominions, to ensure order is maintain and to aid the police in keeping the protester from doing anything that we’ll later regret… I already have the Hamptonian government breathing down our necks to make sure none of the protesters storm the Oceanian embassy…I won’t do it for them….I only prevent the protesters from storming the embassies, because we must keep our international image from being ruined…besides the next round of protest, might be worse then the last one…thanks to them bloody rebroadcast of the cartoon in question….oh….why can’t they just learn to stop….for their own stake..” said the Sultan
Southeastasia
24-05-2006, 09:46
[OOC: Azazia, out of curiousity, does your nation ICly have a favorable or negative view on the Union of Southeast Asian Nations? Because judging from what Howard Robertson said, I'm not too sure which it was...]
Macisikan
24-05-2006, 17:37
Ministry of External Affairs
TRAVEL ADVICE
Nation of Oceania

All Macisikani citizens are advised to defer any and all travel to the nation of Oceania until further notice; all Macisikani citizens currently in are strongly urged to leave that nation. Those who consider their presence in Oceania to be essential should suspend their activities and leave that nation as soon as practicable.

All Macisikani citizens in Oceania, whether departing or remaining, should register with the Ministry of External Affairs (contact details below).

All foreign citizens wishing to leave Oceania and travel to Macisikan must register with the Ministry of External Affairs, Secretariat of State for Immigration and Tourism (contact details below); MinExAff (SSIT) reserves the right to refuse entry to anyone deemed a security risk.

=========

Ministry of External Affairs
TRAVEL ADVICE
Nation of the Ottoman Khaif

All Macisikani citizens are advised to exercise caution if considering travel to the nation of the Ottoman Khaif in the near future; all Macisikani citizens currently in are strongly urged to exercise extreme caution. Those who consider their presence in the Ottoman Khaif to be essential should curtail their activities to the minimum necessary. All Macisikani citizens not engaged in essential activities are advised to depart that nation at the earliest possible convenience.

All Macisikani citizens in the Ottoman Khaif, whether departing or remaining, should register with the Ministry of External Affairs (contact details below) or the Macisikani Embassy in Istanbul (contact details below) or the Macisikani Consulates in Ottoman major cities (contact details below).

All foreign citizens wishing to leave the Ottoman Khaif and travel to Macisikan must register with the Ministry of External Affairs, Secretariat of State for Immigration and Tourism (contact details below); MinExAff (SSIT) reserves the right to refuse entry to anyone deemed a security risk.

============

And that was the sum total of the UIK's official reaction to date. It wasn't that they were callous, but frankly the matter didn't concern them. Their tiny Muslim population was Macisikani enough to mostly ignore what was printed overseas, and since no Macisikani were injured and no Imperial interests were affected, the general population could hardly care less.

The cartoon, while it wasn't printed by any paper or reproduced by any vid, did find its way onto the Macisikani DataNet, and was quickly distributed across the nations. One or two Civil Servants did wonder about what the Ottoman Khaif would say about the cartoon being distributed in the UIK, but no-one had actually heard a peep out of them for years...

The local Imams contented themselves with writing a letter of complaint to the Oceanian foreign ministry, where it would hopefully do some good; since the cartoon came into the Empire via private individuals, and was distributed by them, the Ministry of the Interior would wrap any complaints made in so much red tape they'd never be heard from again.

On the other hand, the Imperial Government did consider the whole affair to be terribly insensitive and ill-mannered on the part of the Oceanians, and thought them quite rude not to apologise for the offence caused; but no-one lifted a finger to actually say so. Though the Imams had no idea, the newsmedia thought the same thing; and there was a silent, tacit agreement not to publish the cartoons. It would be impolite.

In any case, things stayed quiet in the UIK: the local Muslims were bright enough to realise that His Serene Majesty's Government tended to take a rather violent exception to people getting angry over religious matters.
Isselmere
24-05-2006, 19:41
Henry looked down at the image faxed to him by the Prime Minister, Geoffrey Middleton, and grumbled with bitter ennui. For this I had to offend my host, the King thought.

The King had been in Jimnam enjoying a visit with the Grand Admiral when Middleton had texted him -- in the midst of a football match of all things -- about the growing crisis. At first, Henry wondered what possible calamity could have arisen back at home, only to learn that the trouble was in what was now Oceania. And over such a simple thing.

Middleton noted that the Lord Chamberlain's Office was working overtime to prevent the domestic media from republishing the image citing that it was contrary to article 1043, subsection 3 of the Criminal Code, but that it could not prevent its dispersal on the internet. Nor would we want it to, Henry could hear the Prime Minister and the Lord Chamberlain chiming in chorus. Freedom of the press and all that, which was all well and good when the subject was not your spiritual guide.

The King read through the responses from other nations, in particular those from the Khailfah al Musilmeen, Sarzonia, and Hamptonshire, as well as the Oceanian rejoinders. He perused documents about potential unrest at home, as well.

In the short report from the Home Minister, Henry noted that the Muslim communities in several burghs were planning peaceful protests. What is the late spring without a few protests, His Majesty wondered with a smirk. The next group was another matter entirely. He rang the Prime Minister immediately from aboard the royal aircraft.

"The 'Our Home' Party?" the King asked. "Weren't they outlawed in 1939?"

"No, Your Majesty," Middleton replied. "They disbanded in 1933 after Parliament passed the Asiatic Immigration Act" -- another hateful piece of legislation long since forgotten by most Isselmere-Nielanders -- "with several of its more prominent members joining the mainstream parties, notably Labour and the Conservatives." Politics and strange bedfellows, again, Henry thought. "National Front members as well as Anguistian and Nielander nationalists these days, of course," the Prime Minister continued. "Besides, we are receiving enough stick for undermining civil liberties by refusing that bloody cartoon's publication."

"So, what are the fools planning?"

"Probably a few 'anti-immigrant' protests, but likely mosque bombings and torched synagogues are not far off."

Another person might have been bemused by the synagogues comment, yet both the King and the Prime Minister knew that radical "nationalists" tried to stir up as much hatred as possible in their campaigns.

"We expect you have mobilised the Temple Guards, Mr Middleton?"

"Yes, sir. Your Majesty's Lords Commissioners granted their assent this morning. Furthermore, Sir George [the Foreign Minister] is meeting with the Oceanian ambassador today."

"Splendid. Please notify Parliament that we should like to address Our fellow citizens Loyal Representatives upon our return."
Communist Red China
25-05-2006, 22:45
Officially press release from People’s Republic of China

The People’s Republic condemns the Port Hamptonshire Press for being arrogant on the publishing the cartoon, which describes the founder of Islam, Prophet Muhammad as a terrorist. Which in return has enraged a great number of Muslims throughout the world and mainly in Khailfiah al Muslimeen. The People’s Republics views this has a sign of western arrogance and narrow mindless on these sensitive issues. We offer our full support the KLM people and government in these trying times.

Signed
President Hu Jintao
Sarzonia
25-05-2006, 23:08
Senior Vice President and External Affairs Officer Mark Lorber was preparing for a holiday in southern Benatar. He had a beach house he purchased roughly 20 kilometres from Nicksia where he could look out and see the ocean and the occasional sailboat crash through the waves. He was looking forward to the time off, and going to the beach house was a good alternative to the flight to Pacitalia that was rendered impossible by the destroyed relations with that country.

However, before he could lock up his office, he heard his Deputy Senior Vice President Grant Haffner calling out to him.

"Grant, you know I'm going to pick up the kids and meet my wife in 20 minutes. What is it this time?"

"We've just received word that protests are being planned in several major cities throughout the country."

"What kind of protests?"

"Mostly demonstrations in front of mosques, newspapers, the like."

"I'm sure the cities can handle it without our help Grant. Besides, internal issues are Nicole's responsibility." As the lieutenant president, Nicole Lewis was the one who oversaw the day-to-day responsibilities of running a nation and made sure things ran smoothly for Sarzo. So why was Haffner getting his attention for an internal matter?

"But Mark, we've got word that the protests could turn violent. You know, torching mosques and the like."

"Grant, city mayors weren't born yesterday. They'll have riot police out in force and if needed, the Home Guard can reinforce them. They don't need to call us for that."

"Here's the deal, Mark," Haffner intoned after a brief sigh that he hoped would tell Lorber that he just wasn't getting the point. "These protests will likely be copycat-type protests in line with what's going on in the Khailfah al Musilmeen. It has the potential of forcing us to answer for anything related to our arguments for freedom of speech. And there's the matter of our newspapers wanting permission to print the cartoon."

Now it was Lorber's turn to sigh.

"It's not the government's job to supervise the goings on of newspapers or put down a protest unless the Wartime Powers Act is in effect. And Parliament just revoked the Act with the latest PSE numbers, so there's no reason to call in the army. If protests happen, we'll address them. But we're not going to prevent protests from happening. That's not our job.

"And speaking of jobs, mine is to get outta here so I can go on holiday. Have a good night," Lorber said abruptly, turning and leaving quickly as Haffner stood there in frustrated silence.
Azazia
26-05-2006, 07:12
Baucau, Timor-Leste

God Damnit. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, Ramiro, the bastards are not fit for self-government. Edward Richardson pulled the cigarette from his mouth and flicked its remnants onto the dirt road that led to what had formerly been a barracks of the Royal Timor-Leste Constabulary. Now the tree-lined road was quiet, cordoned off by tape and barbed wire while menacing infantry fighting vehicles guarded the perimeter.

Richardson had been appointed by the Crown as His Majesty’s Commissioner to Timor-Leste while to the east Port Elizabeth was officially annexed. Glancing about the small one- and two-floor buildings he could only wait until Timor-Leste itself became an Oceanian colony. For the protection and advancement of the natives of course. What do you think, Ramiro? he asked his official liaison officer, a native of the territory.

The darker-skinned man scratched his rough beard and simply pointed down to the scrap of fabric that remained near the centre of the blast. I suspect when one carries the phrase ‘Allah Expects’ on your tee that you’ve been ordered by some Muslim faction from Ujung Padang.

I wholeheartedly concur, my friend. From his linen sportscoat, which although overbearingly heavy in the tropical heat provided an air of civilisation in one of the remotest and poorest lands on earth, the Commissioner withdrew another cigarette, lighting it with the assistance of his liaison. President Synny, well, he doesn’t much well like the fact we’re here and he’d do everything short of a full-blown war to kick us out and run right back in here on our coattails. And that, it should go without saying, is something the Crown finds wholly unacceptable.

The balding man from Devonport removed his straw hat and wiped the sweat off his brow from a handkerchief conspicuously kept in his coat’s breast pocket for just such occasions. As the cigarette hung precariously from his thick pink lips the Commissioner turned away and smiled. Rarmiro was a clever chap, and knew well what was going on in Baucau and to the west in Dili – but with a nice colonial-era mansion outside the city all to himself, collaboration was proving itself a useful tool in governing Timor-Leste. And more importantly in controlling the vast oil fields off the coast.

I think, my friend, Richardson said after some time, the time has come to call upon His Majesty for more men and material to defend Timor-Leste from an apparent initiative by Synny to thrown out the UK.

Ramiro smiled and nodded deferentially, I concur, Commissioner. With your permission, I would like to go inform the citizenry of Baucau of your decision.

Godspeed, my friend.

Foreign Office, Imperium, New Britain

Deveraux tapped her pencil upon the rounded edge of her desk, but only lightly as she had learned her nervous habit would cost her a fortune in wood in her earlier days of pounding the wood and graphite upon the same desk. At the centre of her desk sat a message from the United Kingdom’s ambassador to Isselmere, where her counterpart would be meeting with His Majesty’s Ambassador later this afternoon, a meeting that would surely prove interesting given the brief but complex history between the two states.

On the right side of the desk was a transcript of the remarks made by the Lord Protector of Hamptonshire, a man and a country that were fast proving themselves as stalwart friends of the United Kingdom. But that single paper sat by itself while the left-hand side held numerous papers from foreign governments calling for the United Kingdom to variously apologise, press charges, and even make reparations to those offended by this single cartoon. Her task from the Prime Minister was to create a more equitable balance between the two sides of her desk – and perhaps the single message in the centre held the key.

His Majesty’s Embassy, Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

It’s about bloody time, Hunt spat through clenched teeth. From the observation post atop the wall of the embassy he watched as the Istanbul Garrison arrived in their transports – and while he didn’t relish the fact that the Royal Marines were now the second line of defence to a foreign power, at the very least they had heavy weapons when the most he had was the rifle strapped around his chest. But the worst was to come, the largest scheduled protest had yet to occur – and Hunt only hoped that in Imperium the Defence Ministry was taking seriously the plight of the surrounded embassy.

Somewhere Over the Pacific

Iain Bashir took the time to enjoy the long flight from Irathria back to the Home Islands – although he dreaded the fact that upon returning he would likely have much work to do. The latest reports from New London hinted that the protests against UK rule would only grow in coming days, and when combined with the suicide bombing in Baucau the world was witnessing what some would likely call the disintegration of the Oceanic Empire, just weeks after its official inception. But that simply could not be allowed to happen.

Sipping a cup of tea, the Colonial Secretary knew that the continuing strength of Oceania depended on the empire. Since the foundation of the European colonies in the Azazian Archipelago the colonies and their successors, including the UK, had consumed most of the easily accessible resources. The colonies offered the United Kingdom guaranteed access to the raw materials its economic growth required. And attempts by Islamic fundamentalists to tear apart the Empire would not be tolerated.

But as Bashir slowly spun his spoon in his china cup, he cursed the fact that the long-foreseen threat had come to fruition not through some nascent secessionist group but from a pen and ink drawing in some local paper. If not for the blood-stained streets as proof across the Kingdom, Bashir would have laughed off the whole concept as absurd.

From behind him, the man in charge of the UK’s colonies heard the familiar squeak of a cockpit door needing maintenance. Mr. Secretary?

Yes, Captain?

I thought you should know we are now one hour out of Emperor’s Field. The pilot returned to his cockpit and shut the door, leaving the Colonial Secretary alone with his thoughts and his tea, which he sipped very quietly as the plane began its slow descent.

Foreign Office, Imperium, New Britain

Winchester rubbed his brow as he read over once more the statement from President Hu – another state known to the UK and with whom cordial relations had been attempted, but now apparently what warmth had long since chilled. As hours had melted into days, it seemed as if the government was fast losing support in the world – all because the world failed to recognise the seemingly inherent differences between Muslim traditions and the secular UK culture.

He turned his head at a small beep from his laptop computer, when he found a news alert from the KBC Online service – sometimes a far more efficient means of gathering information than the official UK intelligence services. The news was not of anything substantial, at least not in the UK; but rather it seemed with a large protest planned in the Khailfah reports had emerged that some were contemplating copycat protests in several Sarzonian cities. Before he could finish the article, however, the Minister of State for International Relations heard another beep from within his office. This time though it was the chirping of his mobile phone.

Hello?

Good afternoon, Howard, replied Deveraux. I just spoke with the Prime Minister, he wants to meet with the two of us in the Citadel within the hour.

About the cartoon I take it?

Correct. I believe Mr. Bashir will be there as well – but if you’ll excuse me I have to return to a rather heated discussion with the Khailfah’s Foreign Minister, who, sufficed to say, is not very pleased with us at the moment.

Thank you, Madame Secretary.

Winchester snapped shut his mobile and buried his head in his hands. He didn’t want to imagine the headaches the Foreign Secretary had at the moment.

Office of the Prime Minister, the Citadel
Imperium, New Britain

Please, all of you, I would like you to sit down. Lord Salisbury nodded to his personal aide, who then quietly exited the room and shut the door behind him. Before the short and bespectacled leader of some five million souls were three senior cabinet members and a senior minister, all of whom the Prime Minister realised were trying their hardest not to fidget in sight of the others. As the Defence, Foreign, and Colonial Secretaries took seats on the facing sofas, Winchester took his own seat on a small chair opposite the Prime Minister’s desk, behind which Lord Salisbury slowly took his place.

All of you are here because this government faces a growing international crisis, a crisis tarnishing the world image of the United Kingdom and proving the Oceanic Empire weak and impotent. And this cannot and shall not stand. Not while I reside in this building. Is that understood. His brown eyes burned with a rage masked by his trademark calm and quiet voice. How is it that an empire of five billion individuals with one of the strongest armed forces cannot quell an insurgency led by a lot of turban-wrapped, Koran-quoting, terrorist want-to-be’s? As we equivocate here in this office, more and more foreign leaders proffer their own rejoinders to the chorus of the timid who fear Muslim reprisals and riots in their own nations. Unacceptable. Now I want to do what all of you are doing to combat this crisis.

The room sat in quiet silence while the secretaries glanced about at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Bashir leaned forward and retrieved the pitcher of ice water from the low table that separated the sofas and poured himself a glass. Taking a quiet sip he looked at his colleagues and finally the Prime Minister. Your Lordship, I believe we are dealing with more than a simple-minded attempt to protest against our attempt to forge a new national identity without the incorporation of Allah or the pillars of Islam. True, the fire was sparked by a few ignorant souls but the firestorm that has erupted may very well be flamed by a larger movement to destroy our empire. And it may very well be of both foreign and domestic origin.

There is no evidence of foreign involvement, Mr. Prime Minister, the Defence Secretary Sean O’Donnell interrupted. While I don’t doubt that some of the arms used by those in New London and Baucau were of foreign import – that does not suggest an organised attempt by a foreign power to destroy the Empire.

I never said a foreign power, Sean Bashir responded quickly. I said of foreign origin. At most I’m referring to the potential for state-condoned terrorism, but certainly not state-ordered.

Salisbury cleared his throat before interrupting, what about the Baucau bombing? The Jipangunesian press, or what little exists, has been producing a disturbing preponderance of anti-Oceanian propaganda.

In my estimation, Your Lordship, the Jipangunesian government is far too disorganized to actually pose a serious threat to the United Kingdom. While I will defer to my esteemed colleagues on the specifics of Oceanian-Jipangunesian relations, I can say that the territory of Timor-Leste is highly coveted by the Ujang Pandang government but they lack the wherewithal to seize against our military presence. The recent spike in anti-Oceanian propaganda after the New London blast, not to mention the Baucau blast occurring after the New London attack, seems to indicate to both me and the analysts at the Colonial Office that the Timor-Leste attack is nothing more than, at most, Jipagunesian opportunism.

Deveraux emulated her peer’s actions and poured herself a glass of water. In large part I would have to agree with Iain, Your Lordship. President Syungma, while willing to use force to reclaim all of Timor is simply incapable of exercising his authority effectively outside of the capital. While we may very well expect more attacks from Muslim extremists in Timor-Leste any assertion of the attacks representing a determined attack by Jipangunesia is simply unsound.

Nevertheless, O’Donnell added, I have received a request from Commissioner Richardson for reinforcements to secure the border. The First Sea Lord, upon my request, is investigating the possibility of dispatching a whole battle group to the region as a show of force to, shall we say, dissuade President Syungma from taking further advantage of the situation for his own advantage.

And how are we doing in presenting that to the international community, Emily? the Prime Minister asked.

This is the first I’ve heard of the request to the Defence Ministry, Your Lordship. However, it should be a rather simple matter to assure the international community that the deployment of the Royal Navy and ground forces to Timor-Leste is to help the territory defend itself against the Muslim militias of Jipangunesia.

But what about the more important issue, stopping the fuel for these Muslim attacks? Salisbury queried, rather pointedly at his Foreign Secretary. The more reports and briefs I am brought, it seems fewer and fewer allies we have. Lord Rosecrans has been particularly helpful, although I must say at this juncture I am rather disappointed in Prime Minister Soranatanali whose public support would be rather useful. But I suppose we cannot have others fight our battles – which is why we need the Foreign Office to be far more productive than it has been in recent days, Emily. You are the face of the United Kingdom and the Oceanic Empire.

Deveraux nodded politely to the Prime Minister, who had for the first time openly criticised her amongst her peers. Bashir leaned back into the sofa, watching O’Donnell do the same across from him. Winchester remained silent in his seat, watching four of the most important persons in the United Kingdom run the country.

Mr. Winchester, Salisbury finally said, breaking the silence. Thank you for your work in your press briefing earlier. As Minister of State for International Relations, I would like to hear your take on the crisis.

Well, Your Lordship, we are on a tightrope. The continued success and growth of our nation as an international power hinges upon maintaining the balance between multiculturalism and respecting our most cherished freedoms, such as artistic expressionism. Thus far we’ve tread rather well, perhaps a bit too much to the side of upholding our freedoms but not too much. Shortly before departing the Foreign Office I read that now the Sarzonians are preparing themselves for possible protests and this shall provide us an interesting opportunity.

Salisbury smiled at the young MP, who had been groomed carefully by his boss for some time now. How so, Mr. Winchester?

If protests and riots spread beyond the UK and the KLM the conflict spreads beyond our two states. It becomes wider, more global, and in so doing relieves some pressure from the UK. Admittedly, there was the attack in Jagada, but by their own admission their republic has largely been isolationist and the attack seemed to cause little stir in international circles. If, however, riots and protests of significant disturbance break out in, say Woodstock – we begin to witness the widening of the crisis from Muslims versus Oceania to Muslims versus the West. No longer does Muslim hatred focus entirely on the UK. We widen the discourse and in so doing give ourselves more leeway with which to act. Personally, I believe we are following the correct course of action – the government has no place censoring artistic expression simply because the message offends a whole group of individuals. If it were diplomatically acceptable to say ‘grow a thicker skin’ I believe that would be an apt retort to the concerns of the Khailfah. Was it legitimate to publish the cartoon? Absolutely. Was it practical? Absolutely not. And I think that is the message our government needs to hammer home in coming days.

Winchester paused, and noticed he was practically out of breath. He smiled politely and took a much larger and much louder sip of the ice water, practically draining the pitcher. Salisbury looked upon the group of individuals and nodded, withdrawing from his desk four bound copies of paper.

This, he said while Deveraux took and handed out the documents, is a rough copy of the speech Kent has crafted for me to present in a few hours. I still need to review the exact language myself and tweak it – but I am largely satisfied with it. Please read it over briefly and give me your thoughts.

Press Centre, the Citadel
Imperium, New Britain

When the heavy, wooden double-doors swung open an explosion of flashes and clicks and shouted questions greeted Lord Salisbury. He slowly approached the podium at the front centre of the room with a small, black leather folder tucked neatly under his left arm. Although the speech would be read from the teleprompter screens in front of the podium, Salisbury had always felt most comfortable with a hard copy being within reach – in case technology failed him. He ignored the chorus of queries and pushed his glasses up his nose just a hair before looking out over the rapidly quieting crowd. Through the lights he saw the familiar journalists from the KBC, ITN, and other UK broadcast corporations but today many more also sat in hurriedly added seats. His words would be reaching an audience far larger than that to which he had become accustomed. Salisbury smiled politely as the last journalist finally recognised there would be no questions answered.

Good evening, my fellow Oceanians. Tonight, our great and united Kingdom stands at the forefront of a growing international crisis, a crisis that strikes directly at the heart of our liberal democracy: the most fundamental right of expression without fear of government censorship or recrimination.

Many of those not from our islands and territories remain ignorant of our deep-rooted traditions and laws that hold the freedom of expression as one of the most paramount inalienable rights afforded to humankind by the forces that be. Yet this natural right, as with any other right, comes with the caveat that we, as a society, understand how to express ourselves within the established norms of our society – to uphold the rules of decorum and common decency. Each of us is tasked with the responsibility to speak, sing, paint, and write with the understanding that our words and creations – if destined for the consumption of others – must exist in a public forum where they may stir up emotions or challenge one’s most deep-rooted beliefs. And we as a people must understand that in an age of globalisation, the public forum is no longer the town square or the shire marketplace but cosmopolitan cities, the internet, lands and cultures and peoples distinct from our own. We as a people must now shoulder our responsibility and take great care as to understand the ramifications of our actions, of our deeds, and even of our words and artistic creations.

In recent days I have heard the calls from many wanting me to apologise for the actions of the Oceanian press, wanting me to reprimand those responsible, and some wanting me to go so far as to restrict the publication of this controversial cartoon. But I cannot, for to do so would be an admittance of defeat, a surrender to the forces of extremism and intolerance.

The global community in which we live houses billions of persons; and to imagine that the words or drawings of one individual will not offend another is but a flight of fancy. The true test of our society and of our global community, however, is the means with which we correct such offences. Do we clamp shut the mouths of those who speak truths we would rather not hear? Do we whitewash the walls of artworks for which we care very little? Do we write and enact laws to prevent others from speaking their mind and from expressing themselves? I should hope we all answer with a resounding ‘no’ to those questions.

Another cherished right in the United Kingdom is to be able to assemble freely, but also peacefully.
His Majesty’s Government has absolutely no qualms about foreign peoples or its own peoples assembling to protest this cartoon if that is their wish. However, the recent turning to violence by irresponsible and irrational elements in the protests thus far is wholly unacceptable. My Foreign Secretary has discussed the issue of securing the Oceanian Embassy in Istanbul with the Foreign Minister of the Khailfah and the deployment of additional Royal Marines as well as the Istanbul Garrison is a welcome sign of nearing an amicable accord with those offended parties. And although there is still much work left to do, the commitment to peace by all parties is the first strand in closing and healing the rifts that divide us.

We will as a nation and as a global body confront this issue. We will as a nation and as a global body overcome this issue. It may very well take time before all the opened wounds heal, but I am confident that given time even these most serious of wounds will heel and will heel in such a fashion as to forge a stronger body, a stronger community and a stronger world.

Thank you, and good night.

Through another, but smaller, chorus of questions the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom walked off the slight stage and exited through the wooden doors separating the offices of his staff from the press centre. On the other side, holding a large mug of tea was his Chief of Staff. How did it go, Howard?

Robertson handed his boss the steaming mug of tea, already prepared the way the Prime Minister preferred. I suspect we should know in perhaps five minutes. If even that many, Your Lordship.
Southeastasia
26-05-2006, 08:45
[OOC: Azazia, out of curiousity, does your nation ICly have a favorable or negative view on the Union of Southeast Asian Nations? Because judging from what Howard Robertson said, I'm not too sure which it was...]
[OOC: It seems you neglected this Azazia....]
Macisikan
26-05-2006, 12:36
You are watching MNB International News

"... but tensions remain high.

A new development in the Oceanian Cartoon Controversy which has caused major unrest in numerous Muslim communities around the world.

In a public press conference, that nation's Prime Minister has defended his government's stance, declaring that to condemn or restrict the republication of the cartoon to be "a surrender to the forces of extremism and intolerance".


Well, this is likely to inflame the Ottoman Khaif, and other Muslim nations even further. As any of my first-year students would be able to tell you, depiction of the Prophet Mohammed is a vile blasphemy for Muslims, no matter in what sense. To allow, to defend, these cartoons, and to unconditionally defend their publication is admirable as far as free speech is concerned; but it is cultural insensitivity of the highest order.

Muslim community leaders in the UIK have labelled the Oceanic government's actions as offensive. Community leaders have stated that, while they do not call for the suppression of free speech, the Oceanian behaviour would not be tolerated in a primary school. An Arn-Arakhan Imam was quoted as saying "They have said something offensive, they have acted offensively; they should apologise for their behaviour."

His Most Serene Majesty's Government has no official position on the matter, though a source within the Daíl was heard to state "Intolerance?! HA! The Oceanians are the ones being intolerant. Of the Muslims!".

Concerns were aired in Ambassador-General's Office recently as to the security of the Macisikani Embassy in Istanbul, but the deployment of Ottoman troops to the area has allayed these fears. Viscount Septimus Kavir, His Most Serene Majesty's Ambassador to the Ottoman Khaif, has advised Macisikani citizens to avoid the diplomatic quarter, and contact the Embassy via electronic means.

The situation in..."
Ottoman Khaif
27-05-2006, 04:03
Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

Tensions were rising between the citizens of the KLM and the Oceanians. It was a matter of time before they reach the boiling point…and just all hell breaks loose…. In reactions from the latest statements from Oceanians, the people of the Khailfah, were going to stage a massive protest in every city of the KLM and her Dominions. It was reported that some of the protest might go over 2 million in most of the major cities of the Imperium. With protests reaching this size…there was no telling what might happen next…

At a local Turkish Coffee Ship in Istanbul, late at night, a meeting of the Protest organizers was going on

“Logic is stupidity best friend..remember that my friends..also follow my advice and don’t attack or bomb the Oceanian Embassy at all…sure keep pressure on them…don’t attack the embassy at all..attack the symbols of the Oceanians in our Homeland…such as their supermarket chains.. that should be your main targets….attack their investments in our lands….attack those symbols….its key for our revenge.” Said Faruq al Mafree bin Hani

“We listen and respect your advise, Faruq…the humble tailor of Istanbul.We will attack those targets as you stated earlier…This could have been avoided if they would have just listen to reason…its too late now…we will strike out and make sure the Imperialist Pro Globalizations pigs feel the our wrath..” remarked one of the Protest organizer

“So what kind of arms and explosives do you have or made ?” asked Faruq, was an ex Political Commissar in the Imperial Army.

The Protest organizers smile, since most of them were ex-army officers or veterans from the Khailfah. So therefore a good number of them knew how to make explosives and get their hands on weapons…

“I been waiting for you to ask that question, oh Faruq….well to answer your question …we have good stockpile of Molotov Cocktails..Pipe Bombs…..a number of sticks of Dynamite, and a number of Flashbang grenades. As for firearms, many handguns mostly bolt actions, AK-74s and some modern assault rifles. Plus a good number of sabers and swords, to answer any questions on how we got our hands on these weapons…easy most of the protesters are part of the Imperial Army Reserve Corps or the Home Guard Corps…just its easy to get our hands on a many weapons from the arm forces or on the open market…also to answer another question…we will not fire upon our own kin in the Police or arm forces in the cities…but if we have to take them out if they get in our way…we shall use non lethal means.” Said one of the Protest organizers

“Good to hear…so when will the protest begin?” asked Faruq

“At 6:00 P.M. Istanbul local time….when the clock hits six….the world most massive protest shall began…..at exactly at that time…our comrades throughout the Imperium will began their marches and protest…tomorrow shall be a day in the history books..” remarked the Protest organizer

“How interesting to known….well I’ll be off now…just your local humble servant to the Khailfah. I do enjoy these chats gentlemen, its good to know we still have our people thinking and defending the faith.” Reply Faruq and left the Shop, and disappear into the night.


The Grand Riot

The streets of Istanbul, appear clam…for most of the business day, …it well business usual…this pull most of the police forces and the army regiments at rest, they began to think the worse has past and soon they will be allow to return home, yet this was the calm before the storm.

When the clock hit 6:00 P.M., the massive groups of protestors started to form all over the city. This scene was being repeated all over the Khailfah and her Dominion, only within a matter of two hours, these protest grew to nearly a million in Istanbul alone, and more in other cities and it was still growing. News crews from many different news agency reported the events as they happened. No one could really tell if the protesters has weapons since they kept it hidden and out of plain sight. The make up of the protesters was not just Muslims, they were a across section of all the races groups and religions of KLM, they all felted insult by the actions of Oceanians.

Soon the protestor’s started to set fire the Oceanian flag, which they got their hands on. Then they began to yell out anti-Oceanian slogans and burning Oceanian products that were boycotted by most of the citizens of the Khailfah. Then all hell broke out, the protestors were going restless since they were not allow to protest in certain areas of city. They began throwing rocks and glass bottles at the Riot Police and Soldier, the Police officers began sending out warnings to the Protestors to stop or the Police will break up the protest, the protestors’ respond to the police warnings was the following, they began throwing Molotov Cocktails and Flash Bang grenades at the Police and Army officers.

Just casing minor disorder in the Police lines, Then the Police and Army forces return fire by putting on gas mask and firing tear gas and firing rubber bullets at the protestors. Yet the protestors keep on marching getting closer and closer to the police lines each time and throw more Molotov Cocktails and Flash Bangs. Chaos was breaking out all over the cities. Protestors set fire to many parked cars, and started to clash with the Police and Army Soldiers, in hand to hand battles. At one point the Protesters manger to break the Police lines near the shopping area of Istanbul, and they quickly attacked the Oceanian Supermarket store in the area, which was closed do to the recent events. The armed Protestors throw pipe bombs and Molotov cocktails into the store and set it on fire with the bombs going off, then they vented their anger more by shooting their fire arms at the burning building and shooting up any near by buildings. But then the Police and army came back in full force and beat back the Protesters and quickly Istanbul Fire Department came in and tries to put out the fire. Yet the damage was done, many fires were breaking out all over Istanbul, and protestors and law enforcement clash in gunfires and close quarter combat.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Troop%20Pics/64661a30.jpg (Oceanian Department Store on fire)

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Troop%20Pics/edd97487.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Troop%20Pics/f9c6aadf.jpg


The clashes was at its heaviest at Embassy section of the Istanbul, Police and Army officers were barely holding off the protestors who at one point almost break thought the lines. Yet the line still manger to hold the line, but none of the soldiers could not fire live rounds, they had standing orders to fire only rubber bullets and other non-lethal weapons.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Troop%20Pics/4736318b.jpg


These scenes of riots breaking out and buildings set on fire were being repeated all over the Khailfah and her Dominions. Police and the local garrisons were loosing control fast and could barely hold on….the worse riots in the history of KLM were happening and there little that could do about for now.



At the Sultan Palace, 10:30 P.M., the meeting of Sultan Cabinet

“Gentlemen, these riots are getting out of hand….I am getting reports from all over the Khailfah and our Dominions that similar riots are breaking out…and I have been getting request from regional governors to send more troops to repress the riots and restore. And…I agree with them..Defense Minister, have more deployed to cities to restore order at all cost!” said the Sultan, who was very stress out do to recent turnabout in events.

“It shall be done at once, Sultan do you wish to deploy one of your Imperial Black Guard regiments, you have two guarding the palace, and the one is held in reserve and we need all the man power we can get.” Said Defense Minister-Vizier Süleyman al Uthmān bin Aziz (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Omar_Sharif.jpg)

“Very well, the 2nd Imperial Black Guard Regiment will be assign to help in quelling the rebellions at all cost..damn the bloody Oceanians…look at what they started…damn them..” remarked the Sultan

“And also my Sultan, has a state of State of emergency been declare yet?” ask the Defense Minister

“Yes, soon…my brother, Prime Minister Uthman bin Bashir will issue the State of emergency in matter of minutes, turn on the TV to KNN.” Said the Sultan

Then an aid turn on the T.V and sure enough was on air PM Uthman bin Bashir was issuing the state of emergency

“Salaam, in light of recent events and the massive riots that currently causing mass chaos in most of the major cities of KLM. We here by declare a state of emergency for Khailfah and all her Dominions. This sign into effect by Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II, Grand Vizier Mehmed Pasa Sokollu, Prime Minister Uthman Bin Bashir and High Chancellor Hashmir al Horatius Bin Assad. Martial law is now in effect.”

The Sultan nodded his head and the aid turn off the T.V.

“Grand Vizier Sokollu, call a emergency joint meeting of the Parliament, Imperial Senate and the House of Viziers at 6:00 A.M….I must address the government…” said the Sultan

“It shall be done, my Sultan.” Reply the Grand Vizier

“Now all of you, leave….I must have some time to myself to collect my thoughts..” order the Sutltan

Everyone nodded and left the room, just leaving the Sultan alone to think and clear his mind…


Elsewhere, near by Arm forces bases, inf.regiments and armour regiments were gearing up to enter the cities and forcefully restore..but its going to take time for more troops to enter the city and time wasn’t on the law enforcement side.

Yet two rapid deployment Paratroop Corp. were deploy to Istanbul major international airports, to keep them open and protect from mob attack. More troops will be coming in, very soon to restore order.

1st Paratroop Crop.
1st Para Regiment
2nd Para Regiment

2nd Paratroop Crop.
3st Para Regiment
4nd Para Regiment


ex of Paratroop corp.
6,000 arm with AK-105, AT-15 Khrizantema and RPGs-7
100 9P148(Anti Tank Amour)
200 BMD-3 Airborne Infantry Fighting Vehicle
100 MI-28A/N HAVOC ATTACK HELICOPTER
100 Ka-52 HOKUM B / Alligator Attack Helicopter
20 C-141 Starlifter(Air Transport)
Amestria
27-05-2006, 04:46
Amestria’s Reaction to the Cartoon

Amestria had a small Muslim community, roughly 2% of its overall population, of disparate origins. Some families had originated from the Balkans, others from Asia Minor, and still others from North Africa. The community, owing to the Amestrian States policies of Amestrianization, lingual/cultural education, and stance opposition to social division, was very well integrated, some would say unrecognizably so. Mosques were not partitioned between the genders, veils had become relatively rare (and if worn tended to be in designer colors), women led prayer, alcohol was regularly consumed, and far more spoke fluid Amestrian then fluid Arabic (which had led to a translated Koran written entirely in Amestrian).

When the newspaper Le Monde reprinted the cartoon along with a story of the Oceanic unrest and diplomatic furor many throughout Amestria wondered what all the fuss was about. A few wrote letters to the various editors complaining of disrespect, others took the opportunity to denounce suicide bombers, while some simply wrote in to declare that they did not find the cartoon “all that funny” and that the cartoon “stunk.” There were a few very small peaceful protests by some recent first generation immigrants and that was all.

* * * * * *

The State of Amestria,
The South Amestrian Mediterranean Port City of Givet

Meanwhile in South Amestria, not caring one bit about the current international controversy, the people of Givet held their yearly Célébration De Victoire. The celebrations, as always, started upon the completion of a giant turbaned, bearded, paper mache head referred to by locals as “Mohammed.” The tradition first started in the late 700s to celebrate the driving of the moors from their Southern Amestrian raiding outposts and forts in 742. The head, “Mohammed,” was added in the 1400s when gunpowder became plentiful. The whole event had since lost its religious meaning from one and a half centuries of secularism (contemporary Amestria’s church attendance rate being about 15%), metamorphosing into an urban cultural festival closely tied into the city’s identity. The yearly celebration over time had become something of an interregional affair, with people from neighboring cities and rural areas coming to Givet to show off their own artistic abilities and share their own local cuisine for the benefit of others. After several days of festivities, involving floats, dances, food, the reenactment of battles, and much joyousness the head of “Mohammed” was dragged into the town square, set up facing the Cathédrale Notre-Dame d'Givet, pelted with oranges by the crowd, and then blown up.

The next day the local Muslim population (2% of the city’s population) got their “revenge” by playfully blowing up thirteen giant paper mache heads of their own, one named after the city’s patron saint and the other twelve named after the twelve apostles, outside of Givets main mosque. This “tradition” was about 40 years old and had been part of a separate one-day festival that took place the following week until community leaders had decided to combine the two five years later.

The 1,246th Célébration De Victoire went off without a hitch and everyone in Givet, be they Agnostic, Atheist, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, or whatever, had an absolutely splendid time.

* * * * * *

The State of Amestria,
Central Amestria,
Central City,
The Parliament Building

The Honorable Minister of Foreign Affairs, Dominique de Villepin, when asked about the whole Oceanian Cartoon controversy by a reporter on the steps of Parliament, sniffed “The State of Amestria is not going to trouble itself with the matter of a few oversensitive Muslims or their various apologizers. Those people in Ottoman Khaif and Jagada, not the sharpest tools in the shed are they, protesting their religion supposedly being portrayed as supporting terrorism by rioting, starting fires, and blowing themselves up… They apparently haven’t thought things through.”
Hamptonshire
27-05-2006, 06:44
Office of the Lord Protector, Hampton Palace, Hamptonshire City

Lord Rosecrans and Princess Anne, the Domestic Affairs Minister, sat on a couch in front of a television screen. Usually they'd watch a performance by the Seaburg Philharmonic or the Royal Theatrical Company, but tonight they were watching a taping of Oceanian Prime Minister Lord Salisbury addressing the international community.

"Well, Anne, what do you think?" the Lord Protector asked his much younger colleague.

"He's kind of cute," she replied with a smirk, "or were you talking about the speech?"

Sometimes I can't tell if she's joking or serious he thought to himself while quietly laughing in response to the Princess's statement. "The speech. It isn't the place of a man twice your age to involve himself in your dating habits."

"Well then," she reached over to a nearby table and picked up a glass of orange juice, "I'll keep it to the speech. He was on message, clear with his position but not too forceful. I think he probably could have come out a bit harder against the protesters, but all in all I think the speech will play well."

"My thoughts exactly." He responded.

Lord Rosecrans pushed himself up from the couch and walked over to his desk. He opened up the top right drawer and took out a manilla folder containing a half dozen pages. He walked back over to Anne and handed it to her.

"These are some of the latest intel reports gathered by RAFIS*."

She took the folder and read the summary on the top of each page. RAFIS has collected information from informants and other sources about "Cartoon-Related" riots and attacks occurring or planned in Sarzonia, Isselmere-Nieland and outlying areas of Oceania. The normally cool and collected Princess was visibly disturbed by the news.

"I...I didn't think it would spread this far this fast."

Lord Rosecrans turned away from her and placed his right hand on her shoulder. "Not many did," he paused to collect his thoughts, "but we have to count our blessings. While there have been some calls to protest in several of the Dominions, local Muslim Councils have assured that cooler heads have prevailed. The Councils have proven to be quite progressive."

"We could use that to our advantage, Philip."

"That's what I was thinking. All that needs to be done is for someone to go to the Muslim Councils in McClellen and ask them to issue a joint statement condemning the radicals."

Anne sighed, she did not envy the person that would have to do that. "Whom are you thinking of sending?" she asked.

"You."

"Me?"

"It's not as bad as you think it'll be," he walked back toward his desk while continuing to address the Princess, "once you talk to the Councils and present our case it will just be a matter of time until a statement is issued. Besides, you need more exposure in the Dominions."

Anne knew what he was hinting at. After the pending federal elections the Royal Senate would have to elect a new monarch. She loathed the idea of being the next Sovereign but for as long as she could remember, Lord Rosecrans had tried to make her into "monarch material". She wasn't in a position to argue with him know, though, he was her superior. She stood up and bowed her head at the Lord Protector in acknowledgment of his request. She began to silently walk toward the office's main doors when Lord Rosecrans called out to her, "What do you think of establishing a direct link with the Oceanian Government?"

She paused for a second and responded, "I'm not quite sure what it could do to alleviate the current situation but having a pair of eyes and ears in Imperium would give us insight into Lord Salisbury's plan of action. It would also give us a way to monitor the situation and quickly present our viewpoints to the Oceanians, should the worst happen."

Lord Rosecrans already came to the conclusion to reach out to the Oceanians with the offer of sending someone to Imperium, he just wanted to see if the Princess would come to the same decision of her own volition. He also had in mind the person to send. It needed to be someone influential and with political capital but also someone that the Grand Archduchy could spare for a potentially extended period of time. Anne was too important to domestic matters and she was going off to McClellen. Dr. Wolfgang Hayek, the Foreign Minister, fit the description but he was scheduled to go with the Lord Protector to Pacitalia in a few days' time. There was only one other member of the informal "Triumvirate": Finance Minister Luis Santiago. He was already out of the country finishing a week long intra-imperial trade conference.

"Before you leave, go and see Wolfgang. I drafted a letter that I want sent to Salisbury. Look it over and when you think it is ready, transmit it to our Consul-General in Philadelphia. She is going to hand deliver it the Oceanian Foreign Office."

Princess Anne turned to face Lord Rosecrans, bowed, turned back toward the door and left the office.

Where will this road lead us? The aging statesman thought to himself as he sank into the plush office chair behind his desk. I'd give anything to have Reginald Leopold here . . . for even a minute.


My Lord Marquess,

While our nations have not yet formally exchanged embassies, the Grand Archduchy of the United Realms of the Hamptonian Empire is deeply interested in maintaining and strengthening relations with the United Kingdom of Oceania. To that extent, once this current situation has resolved itself I would personally like to see our two nations exchange embassies. Until that time comes, and in light of the aforementioned situation, the Grand Archduchy requests the privilege of sending a representative of the Federal Government to the United Kingdom. We would request that our representative, if possible, be allowed to meet with the appropriate government officials that have so aptly dealt with this situation.

I hope you can understand our desire to have one of our officials in Imperium to relay information between our two nations. While the United Kingdom is at the center of this situation, it is not the only nation affected. If certain elements are given their way the disturbances seen in Istanbul could be repeated across the globe, including cities throughout the United Realms.

The current (Acting) Finance Minister, Luis Santiago, has concluded a recent conference. Pending your approval of this proposition, and barring any reservations you may have with the Minister, he could be in Imperium within twelve hours. I have full confidence in Minister Santiago and his abilities. He has served as an Ambassador to a half dozen nations, including a two-year term as the Hamptonian Ambassador to the Khailfah. I think he could serve a direct, but low key, link between us.


Yours Sincerely,

Lord Philip Rosecrans, Duke of Eeasen
Lord Protector of the Realm
Commander-General of the Royal Armed Forces


OOC:
*RAFIS= Royal Armed Forces Intelligence Service
Azazia, while we have never formally exchanged embassies I thought that perhaps we could have each established consulates in the other's nation. If it matters for the purpose of your response, the Consul-General in Philadelphia's name is Dame Elise Poulsen, Btss.
Allanea
27-05-2006, 09:14
Allanean Reaction to the Cartoon

Within ten days of the beginning of the controversy, 15 major Allanean newspapers, and one major news blog, have shelled out cash for syndication rights on the famous cartoon. It would be expected that the cartoon that had made some silly foreigners riot and burn stores would be a riot for Allaneans – the good kind of riot, of course, and the Azazian publisher would make lots of money from it.

The ever-dwindling Muslim community in Daikatana had of course published some muffled protest in their newsletter – but they, like the ADL, were not listened to – much, at least. The general Allanean opinion was mostly summed up by Boanerges Blitzen, editorialist at Allanea Times



You might understand the new cartoon issue as a mirror – how you react to this cartoon shows more about you then about the cartoon itself. If, indeed, you smile mildly or laugh, then the worst that could be said about you is that you believe the famous stereotypes about Islam.

But if, in some twisted variant on sanity, you begin demanding that the cartoon's publication be curbed so it doesn't offend the precious religious feelings of the Muslims, then perhaps you are indeed... how should I put it mildly... wait, I can't. You're a wannabe fascist clothing his desire to regulate speech and expression with supposed feelings of liberalism. Here is a clue: There is no right not to be offended. The whole point of free speech that you have the right to be as offensive a shmuck as you can manage, without a hint of state interference – and to take offense from other shmucks.

If, in some twisted parody of religious feeling, you begin forgetting the actual teachings of Mohammad, attacking innocent people, burning their property and blowing up their stores just because their government kinda schminda expressed tolerance of this cartoons in a half-assed, Eurotrash way – then maybe, at least in relation to you, the content of the cartoon is in some way true... and the sane people laugh even harder.

* * *

And somewhere, in the headquarters of a small studio in Allanea, a person known only as DEATMASTER_666 brooded darkly. “I see a way to make money off this, gentlemen. Not make money, even... just promote the company... and make more money.”

“How will we do it, Sir?”

“We'll make a film based on the Koran.”

“But, Sir... we make only porn... I mean, erotic cinema.”

“Exactly. Find the actors, make the film. Vaguely based, mind. And make it available for a five-dollar download.”

“But, Sir, it will be pirated.”

“Yes. That'll only gain us more exposure – and enable us to sell our other flicks for more.”

“Aye, Sir. I see your point.”

“Now, go do it.”
Ottoman Khaif
28-05-2006, 03:49
The riots lasted for more then three days, it took the arm forces that long to repress and crush the riots and to restore order in the major cities of the Khailfah and her Dominions. Lucky no one was killed in the riots. It looks nearly two-army divisions; one marine division plus two para troop corps to restore order to Istanbul alone. Observers reported the protestors only attacked anything related to Oceania; they only left the embassy and the many consulates alone. The protesters “purge” the Imperium of any Oceanian stores or symbols. The damage alone to Oceanian assets could be in the millions of Dinars.

The Police Departments arrested, an large numbers of rioters, they won’t take to jail. They just fined 2,000 dinars each for partaking in the riots, then after the paying the fines, they were release. There was little the Law enforcement was willing to do the rioters, in most cases the rioters were waved of the fines, just because they felt guilty for not taking part on the protestor’s side in the matter. Yet even with the riots quell, the Imperial Government order that arm forces will not be withdraw from any of the cities for another two weeks. To keep order and to allow the people to cool off for that time period of two weeks, hopefully by then they would have calm down long enough for them to stop using protest as a way to vent or express their anger.

As life slowly but surely returns to normal in the major cities, it’s a different story for the KLM government. During the close door emergency of joint meeting of the Imperial Government, outraged Viziers called for a no confidence vote of the Sultan government, which if passed could being down entire government of the Sultan, and the Viziers were the only ones who had the right to put fore a vote of no confidence. Yet a massive outcry broke along the Ministers of Parliament, Senators and loyal Viziers, just the motion of no confidence was shot down, but the fact that the Sultan government was that his own Viziers were very unhappy with recent events and now were calling for the Sultan to resign, if he didn’t correct the problem or at the very least cut almost all relations with Oceania. For now on the Sultan once powerful base was shaked very badly by recent events…only time could tell if KLM would ever forgive the Oceanians for their actions.

At the Sultan Palace, The Sultan Cabinet meeting

“Gentlemen….we have lost….some of you might say how have we lost…I’ll tell you how we lost….we lost at that very moment when those protest…became riots…that’s where we lost….our message …my believes are forever ruined..they will see us as a people without reason…a nation of fanatics…our international image is ruined..now let us save face …and try to do some damage control..” remarked the Sultan

“Alright, we can try to save face to what little relations we had with Oceania…but how do we exactly do it? We can’t just say that we were in the wrong; we all know that we were in the right for defending our faith. I say, we just say we’re sorry for the damages done to Oceanian assets during the riots and pay for the damages, that’s as far we will do for them.” Said Grand Vizier Mehmed Pasa Sokollu

“Yes, I agree with Grand Vizier Mehmed Pasa Sokollu on this matter, we can’t amend our stance on the matter.” Said High Chancellor Hashmir al Horatius Bin Assad (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/255965c9.jpg)

“I second that idea, we can not at all cost back down on our stance on the issue…we must stand firm on it…at all cost.” Said Prime Minister Uthman bin Bashir

“Very well then, Minister of Internal Affairs, how much in terms of dinars are the damages to the Oceanian assets, that were hit during the riots?” ask the Sultan

The Minister of Internal Affairs opens his folder and looked at the numbers and then he answer.

“Roughly 35 million dinars in total so far my Sultan, this is factors all the riots together.”

“Well then…that’s the amount we will pay the Oceanians…no more no less…is that now understood, Minister of Treasury, make sure those funds are made ready to wire to the Oceanians companies who assets were damaged during the riots.. , but don’t send without my permission is that understood?” ask the Sultan


“It is understood, my Sultan…although I do loath the fact we have to pay the bloody Oceanians for this mess…they started in the first place..oh bloody well..” remarked Minister of Treasury - Minister Ahmad Shah bin Saad (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Erick.jpg)

“We…all feel that way, Ahmad..your not the only one…and now to the message to Oceanians..” Said the Sultan, then a Imperial Black Guard Officer enter the room and said the following

“My Sultan, I am sorry to bother you, but there is a man outside who insist on taking part in the Cabinet meeting..he says had some key advice for you, his name is Faruq al Mafree bin Hani”


The Sultan and other Cabinet ministers rolled their eyes, they all knew the name Faruq al Mafree bin Hani too well…he was just known as the Tailor and then the Sultan nodded his head to allow to Faruq to enter the room

“What’s beings you here…Faruq…” remarked the Sultan, has Faruq enter the room

“Oh I am just the humble servant to the Khailfah , just here to give advise on recent events…” he reply

“Oh yes…you’re here to us advise like you give advise to the protest leaders on what to attack in terms of Oceanian assets…..don’t play games …Faruq…the AMI knows what you did…” said Head of Al Muslimeen Intelligence- Seyyed Zia'eddin Tabatabaee (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/200422_134215_2_006.jpg)

Faruq only smiled and reply” It was that or the embassy and the consulates …I was only there to change their target..and make them listen…I knew they were bound to attack something and besides…I just showed them a way, which won’t lead mass world condemnation of the Khailfah, you can thank me or hate me for it…its up to you..and no I didn’t push them to attack anything…they were already planning it long before I came to the meeting.” He reply


“Enough arguing…I heard enough from that blast joint meeting of the Government…Faruq…speak frankly” said the Sultan

“Fine, now I’ll let what I know…first of all I know you guys are planning on some kind of save face type of thing…that’s a given…but have you thought who you might want to send as a new ambassador to Oceania, no you haven’t thought about that part…I swear I known our mindset too well.. first of all we all know that old ambassador to Oceania won’t dare come to back to a nation that has deeply insult him and most of his staff, therefore you must pick a new ambassador..” He pause to allow what he said to sink into the minds of Cabinet

“Continue on, Faruq and also we did thought about a new ambassador to Oceania…still debating on that one…” remarked the Sultan

“Ah, good…at least your thinking about a new one…pick someone is….who is..well more clam and open minded…I suggest a female , in her early or late 30s , of European background to be send.. Single or married…now your asking yourselves…Faruq.. what the hell have you been smoking…you want us to send a Europeanist person to just fit in their nation and not present our views and dogma.. and I reply no genius…I am saying let them have a false impression that we are sending someone of their mindset or thinking..but in reality we are sending a someone who is deeply read in our beliefs and logic…just we have some who can play their own game and stand for our options. So Foreign Minister Farhri Koruturk ,do you have someone in mind for that job?” Asked Faruq

“I may have someone in mind for that job…I just have to contact her…” He remarked

“Foreign Minister Farhri Koruturk…send a message to Oceania government tell them we request a meeting to rebuild relations…and etc also known as Save face.” Order the Sultan

“It has be done.” Reply the Foreign Minister

“Good, this meeting is dismiss for the time being….Faruq..stay for tea….” Said the Sultan

“ Oh goody tea…I shall my old student,stay for tea.” Remark Faruq.
Azazia
28-05-2006, 06:01
Three Days Prior
His Majesty’s Embassy, Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

Over the raucous din from the mobs at the gates Hunt heard a familiar humming sound that began to throb rhythmically. Fires lent the evening air a harrowing orange tint as the Royal Marines within the besieged compound looked upward to a black sky that ever so slowly began to press down upon them with a ferocious weight. Hunt flicked on the safety of his rifle and with a hand over his helmet ran over to the descending Royal Navy helicopter that had been running black – so as not to draw the ire of the protestors who might otherwise be inclined to fire off some live rounds.

As the door to the passenger compartment slid open, Hunt watched in mild surprise as a colonel leapt out of the helicopter dressed in combat fatigues with a rifle in his hand. Hunt brought his hand to his head in a stiff salute, Lieutenant Jack Hunt, XO of the outfit and in charge of perimeter security. You’re a sight for sore eyes, sir.

Colonel Harold Bridger. The Sultan agreed to allow us a total of 65 Royal Marines on the premise, ensuring us that his troops could hold the line. Nevertheless, the HMS Hercules and her carrier group is stationed off the coast ready to evac the embassy should the need arise. In the meantime, your men are to be subsumed under my command, all of which I’ll need to inform your CO about, but what I want to know now is where you need my men.

This way, Colonel.

Office of the Prime Minister
The Citadel, Imperium, New Britain

… scenes of absolute chaos, bordering on anarchy within Istanbul. Salisbury’s aide switched off the television by the Prime Minister’s request, relieving the room of the scenes of carnage and destruction being wrought on private Oceanian assets within the Khailfah while protestors and rioters surged against the police cordon surrounding the embassy in Istanbul.

I daresay that the Khailfah government will likely have hell to pay when it comes time for their own elections – resisting the will of the mob shall not likely sit too well with the ruling party’s base. The Prime Minister paused after his spoken thought, and then finished it with a quiet sip of tea from the china cup that sat upon the saucer at the corner of his desk. Now, Emily, he began after savouring the light taste of the beverage, this letter from Lord Rosecrans it arrived through what means again?

Dame Poulsen, the Consul-General in Philadelphia, Your Lordship. Deveraux smiled at the man who sat across from her, the slight smile on his lips hinted that the reaction by some in the international media that in effect criticised the apologists who advocated formal apologies by the Oceanian government had greatly pleased the Prime Minister.

Salisbury turned the letter over carefully, although he knew full well there was no text on the reverse. He opened his lips to speak, but then pursed them rather quickly while his hands slid into one of the numerous drawers at the sides of his desk. He withdrew a small leather-bound day planner, an old-fashioned relic from the days before computers and mobile phones had replaced pen and paper. His slender fingers wrapped around the metal tab and pulled the zipped edges apart before carefully folding over each leaf of paper until he found the data he needed.

Deveraux watched in quiet fascination as the Prime Minister occupied himself with something she could not see from her vantage point. Rather suddenly, the bespectacled man looked up in her direction with a rather quixotic grin set upon his face. You are leaving for Talstadt in a few hours, are you not?

Yes, Your Lordship, I have a meeting with the Hochen Foreign Secretary. May I ask why?

Lord Rosecrans has informed us that his Finance Minister can arrive in Imperium within twelve hours. But before I meet with Lord Rosecrans’ ambassador I need to see an old friend. At that, Salisbury nodded to Robertson, who had been standing silent in a corner of the room. The Chief of Staff smiled and with a deferential bow of his head, exited through the door reserved for the Chief of Staff.

May I ask why you need to see an old friend, Your Lordship. I must say that now is not the time for social calls.

Lord Rosecrans letter is but the penultimate statement of support that I had hoped to see since this debacle developed. However in the chorus of the concerned there has been a noticeable lack of a particular voice I had most hoped to hear. The Lord Protector’s letter is addressed to me personally, and reminded me of the import of personal correspondence in times of distress. However, time is of the essence and to spend time writing ornately to an old friend whom I have not seen in quite some time will simply not suffice.

The smiling Prime Minister took a moment to drink more of his tea before continuing. Please express my most sincere regards to Prime Minister Klaus. Just be aware that I am going to request the arrival of Minister Santiago for some, say 36 hours, by which time I hope to have returned to Imperium. Salisbury withdrew from his desk a pad of paper and from his breast pocket a pen that had been given to him by his father years before. As he began to write his reply to Lord Rosecrans his Foreign Secretary asked one more question.

Your Lordship, again if I may… where are you going?

The Marquess of Salisbury lifted his pen from the paper and opened his mouth to speak, but instead turned his head at the sound of the door to his Chief of Staff’s office opening. Ah, Howard, what is the word?

Robertson smiled and looked over briefly at the Foreign Secretary. The Royal Air Force has made arrangements for a private aircraft to be made ready at Emperor’s Field within the hour. I have also taken the liberty at ensuring that, at least on our end, the trip and visit will be as low-key as possible so as to avoid creating a great deal of attention. My staff is making the necessary travel arrangements while my deputy is attempting to contact his aides and confirm the visit.

Very good, Howard. Splendid work. Salisbury smiled and turned to his puzzled Foreign Secretary whose question remained unanswered. Why Miss Deveraux, I am headed to Mandragora.

Lord Rosecrans,

My most sincere apologies for not having moved with greater rapidity in exchanging embassies between our two great nations; I assure you it is an oversight I now deeply regret given the current circumstances. Speaking on the behalf of His Majesty and His Government, both I and the United Kingdom would be most honoured to receive Minister Santiago, a man highly spoken of by my Chancellor of the Exchequer after the Seaburg Conference. With regards to his accommodations, Minister Santiago shall have the choice, given the current lack of an embassy, of the guest suite here at the Citadel or the Royal Palace in Asbury, currently unused by His Majesty King George.

Unfortunately, the only request I am compelled to ask about Minister Santiago’s arrival is that if it could possibly be delayed an extra 24 hours as the Foreign Secretary is preparing to leave the country on a previously scheduled visit to Hochberg and I am preparing to visit a mutual friend of ours in Mandragora. While between ourselves the friend’s identity may be well known I am attempting to keep the visit rather short and rather secret for fear of causing another international row. I personally feel one per week is quite sufficient.

I eagerly await Minister Santiago and also the time when the two of us will actually be able to meet face to face.

Sincerely,

Alistair Tetley, 1st Marquess of Salisbury
Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Oceania
ooc: more to come later, when I have more time. But for now, this should suffice
Sarzonia
28-05-2006, 06:53
[OOC: Hamptonshire, I wonder how you'd know the details of my government's concerns about copycat protests considering our countries have all but severed diplomatic relations. Unless you're getting information from Azazia or a mutual ally who's giving you SNN feeds, I doubt you'd get much more than cursory information about Sarzonia from my government.]

Mayor Louise Brantley watched the Portland Police Department and several hundred riot gear-clad Somerset Home Guard troops lined up at the city centre where protests were set to begin. Her counterpart in Woodstock, Chip Moose, also had hundreds of Woodstock's finest clad in riot gear and ready to put down riots.

This scene played itself out across the country, but while violence reigned supreme in several countries throughout the world, the protestors in Sarzonia merely held signs and chanted. Some of the chants were heated and there was enough shouting going on to unnerve any rookie officer, but the protests were remarkably calm.

"Much ado about nothing," Moose said out loud as the crowd dispersed from their spot in front of City Hall. The concern about copycat protests in Sarzonia wasn't misplaced, but if any groups were to try anything, they wer facing down the barrel of the Home Guard and various state troops. Each state's adjutant general had well-trained forces ready to clamp down quickly on protestors, but fortunately, only a few arrests for disturbing the peace sullied what was otherwise a peaceful expression of outrage.

Somewhere, Sarzo breathed a weary sigh of relief.
Hamptonshire
28-05-2006, 07:09
[OOC: Hamptonshire, I wonder how you'd know the details of my government's concerns about copycat protests considering our countries have all but severed diplomatic relations. Unless you're getting information from Azazia or a mutual ally who's giving you SNN feeds, I doubt you'd get much more than cursory information about Sarzonia from my government.]

OOC: You withdrew your diplomatic and other personnel from Hamptonshire, mine is still in place. They were never withdrawn from Sarzonia. With the diplomatic presence alone, even casual information about the protests could be gathered with little or no effort. That's not even factoring in the RAFIS and RISA* agents in the embassy staff or SNN broadcasts.

Before you say anything about have intelligence agents working from an embassy, that is an established practice in the real world. The USA's CIA has publicly stated that it spies on all but United Kingdom, Australia and Canada. Sarzonia has never been as close to Hamptonshire as those countries have been to the United States IRL.


*Royal Intelligence and Surveillance Agency (RISA) is the civilian counterpart of RAFIS.
Ottoman Khaif
29-05-2006, 02:37
One day later, at the Sultan Palace, at the Sultan Office

Another major meeting between the Sultan, the Grand Vizier and the Foreign Minister

“Well, I just got word. That Hezbollah Party Viziers who started the motion of no confidence vote…only did it to test the waters so to speak…lucky our powerbase and supporters shot that down…which did scare the hell out of us…. to think they had the will do to that…bloody fool, besides outsiders may think this as the fall of our government…I think not…besides the people won’t turn against the ruling party just because of recent events that were out of our contral.besides we just had our Parliament elections and it will be another six years intill the next one, unless Parliament is dissolve for early elections…which is highly unlikly, since our party contrals enough seats to prevent such a thing and besides the people are not that piss off to that point. And besides the elections for House of Viziers is mainly has irregular elections at the best, we already had our last election for the House of Viziers two years ago and the House of Viziers has elections very six to eight years…so I guess outsiders have it wrong…this won’t change anything overnight or in the long run.” Remarked the Grand Vizier

“Gentlemen ,don’t get work up on this minor matter…besides…outsiders think we’re a democracy….let them think that way…we are system of appointed and elected officals, and appointed officals is always at the top and have final say on everything…this is the way its been since our Constitution was first written in 1910..it was design so that our government will not be under mob rule and nor it will be under mob rule…we are not a democracy and never be one…we just have some elements of it in our system…those Viziers only react the way they did…out of resentment of recent events…our power base may be shaken for now. it will be back to normal levels in a few months…agh…I am not going to go into detail how our government works…its just complex…and we all know that well enough..now next topic on the agenda….Foreign Minister Farhri Koruturk, is the message to Oceanian Government ready to be send?” ask the Sultan

“Yes my Sultan, the message is ready to be send, all its need is your signature.” Reply the Foreign Minister, and then he handed the message to the Sultan to read and sign

The Sultan read the message and quickly sign it and handed it back to Foreign Minister and spoke “ Last item on the agenda, gentlemen…the new ambassador to Oceania…who is it…or you haven’t decide one yet?” ask the Sultan

“Yes, my Sultan, I have picked Elizabeth Diamandis…she best fits the role for ambasador to Oceania.” The Foreign Minister handed the Sultan, a folder which contian her profile. The Sultan open the folder and began reading and began reading some key facts outloud

“By joe…we found it…the person, Faruq was talking about…damn him…he scares me at times with his insight..” Said the Sultan and he handle the file to the Grand Vizier

This is what the file said

Ambassador Profile
Name: Elizabeth Diamandis
Date of Birth: 5/5/1975
Place of Birth Alexandria, Egypt, Egyptian Trans Sudan Provinces of KLM
Racial background: Greco- German
Religion: Protestant
Eye color: Brown
Hair Color: Light Brown
Age:31
Education: Master degrees in Political Science and Economics from University of Alexandria
Languages: English, Mandarin Chinese,German, Arabic, Greek, French, and Persian
Political Belief: A strong support of the Unionist-Reformist party and wrote many essay defending Bashirian Logic
Job resume

Work as an interim at Foreign Ministry in Istanbul from 2000 to 2004
Work as KLM consul in Sarzonia from 2004-2005
Currently station in People’s Republic of China as the KLM adviser to the KLM Ambassador in Beijing, but has been recall in light of recent events to become the new Ambassador to Oceania


“Damn…this is exactly what Faruq told us to look for ….ceepy but good..” remark the Grand Vizier

“Alright, Send out the message, this meeting is dismiss for now.” Said the Sultan

and the Foreign Minister nodded his head and went back to his office and send the message to Oceania



It says the following

To: Oceanian Government
From: The Khailfah al Muslimeen Government
Topic: Relations

In light of recent events, the KLM Imperial Government would request a formal meeting between our nations in the hopes of repairing relations. Also we need to discuss compensation of all Oceanian assets that were damage during the riots, we are willing to pay for the damages, plus we request to reopen our embassy in your nation in hopes of rebuilding relations faster.

Signed

Sultan Suleiman Al Bashir II
Hamptonshire
29-05-2006, 04:53
VIP Quarters, Charles Phillip IV Royal Air Force Base, Dominion of Merticea

Luis Santiago took his glasses off when he finished reading the latest status report from Obsidia. The extra twenty-four hours will give me the opportunity to catch up with this situation he thought to himself as he closed his eyes and ran his hand through his greying hair.

"Liz," he called out to his chief of staff, Elizabeth Burke, "we're going to be here for another day. Please inform the base commander and, if you could, assemble the latest information we have on Oceania."

Liz acknowledge her boss's request and left the room. Santiago returned to the status report. He hadn't expected to be put into this sort of situation. Sure, he was a trained diplomat, but how often are Finance Ministers called to act as a personal envoy of their head of state.

Luis had full immersed himself in the now concluded trade conference, he hadn't heard anything about the protests and the cartoon until just minutes before the Foreign Minister told him he was to be sent to Imperium. He did not like to be caught of his guard.

The Minister was caught in deep thought when a knock came at the door. "Come in, please." he said.

Liz walked in to the room with a stack of folders in one hand and flash drives in the other. "These are the documents and files you requested, sir."

Luis's eyes widened when he saw all the material that he had to go through in less than a day. "Wow," he paused to reflect, "talk about a late night cramming session."
Pacitalia
29-05-2006, 05:07
(OOC: Joint post by Oceania and myself)

3.42am
Springenti Voli, Beracanto, Pacitalia

A tall but well-framed man, of a famous face and in his late thirties, awoke with a slight start. It was the same dream over and over again - a nightmare with the foundation of patriotism and a terrifying character of worry and deception. Concern. The man leaned slightly back against his pillows, the fluffy goose-down duvet sliding gently and comfortably across his bare legs. He tried to rearrange himself to regain comfort and fall back asleep, but gave up after just a few minutes. Looking over at the clock, he groaned, sat up again, clicked the light on and looked down for his nightshoes. As he was about to put them on and stand up, he felt the bed move slightly and the charming voice of a woman emerge from a naturally beautiful set of lips.

"Tim, ambissima cuera, what are you doing?" she said, her eyes opened slightly but tight from sleep, her mouth curved into a welcome smile.

The former prime minister of Pacitalia looked back at his darling wife, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and snuggle with her for a while. However, his back hurt slightly and he was uncomfortable and restless. He stood up and looked down at Giovanna, the love of his life.

"Sweetheart, I can't sleep. I'm just going to make some caltecioco and see if that helps."

"I'm worried about you," Giovanna said. "You've been sleeping very poorly lately, and all because of things that are out of your control. We need a vacation, I think - get you away from all of this nonsense."

"It's exactly because I can't control it that it's getting to me, my dear," Tim replied. "Let's face it - I'd be sleeping better if we were back at the Residenza. Plus, I'm not sure it's me we should worry about. When are you going to talk to your father again, sweetheart? He loves you. One fight should not change that." He paused, his eyes boring into hers. "I know you know that."

Giovanna chuckled and sighed, choosing that body language and silence over a traditional reply. She stretched out and, turning back over on her side to sleep, shot a playful scowl at him. Tim frowned, remembering how her Alzheimer's-wracked father was steps away from a nursing home on Giovanna's verdict. He had threatened to kill himself instead, rather than live with a daughter he claimed he would never remember anyway. He called Giovanna "nothing special and easy to forget", at which point she walked out. She immediately had her name changed, dropping the non-Pacitalian parts of her name and changing her first name to Giovanna.

Gazing at her, he smiled and then turned his head to look out the window. Past a crib where their three-month-old baby was sleeping soundly, a tepid breeze was descending off the bare, smooth hillsides. It lightly ruffled the leaves on the grape vines that stretched endlessly across the hilly plateaus of Springenti Voli. The stalks of the wine-producing fruit were coolly outlined by a white moon overhead. Stars lit the sky. He put on a light housecoat and trudged down the stairs into the kitchen.

His nightshoes tapped delicately on the slate floor as he entered the cavernous kitchen. Cooking was one of Tim's hobbies, so when he and Giovanna had built the villa last year, the plans included an immaculate kitchen and casual dining area for entertaining. He opened a stainless-steel refrigerator door and retrieved a carton of two-percent milk, Cerignola cream, dark chocolate powder and vanilla syrup. He set to work, heating a saucepan and pouring in the milk and thick cream, waiting for it to heat over an entrancing blue flame.

Ell stared at the flame, frustrated and exhausted from lack of sleep. He hoped the hot chocolate would allow him to squeeze an extra four hours sleep out of the night, at the very least. The sudden electronic ring and vibration of his cellular phone on the granite countertop startled him, and he lunged over and grabbed it off the desk immediately so that it wouldn't wake Giovanna. He looked at the call display and frowned. "ATetley-Aerophone", it read. Ell frowned for the second time in ten minutes.

Why was he calling at this hour? he thought to himself. Doesn't he know the time difference? Wearily, he opened the flip-phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Alistair," he said pointedly. It was not a question. "May I ask why I have the pleasure of receiving a call from you at nearly four in the morning?"

A familiar upper-class, old-school Azazian accent invaded his left ear. "Dreadfully sorry about the hour, Tim. I sincerely hope that I did not awaken your family; however, there is a matter of the utmost importance regarding Pacitalia that needs to be discussed in person. And quite frankly, time is not in your nation's favour."

He sighed. "There are a lot of things that are not in my country's favour right now, my friend. It seems our leadership is crumbling, our connections are severing left and right, our economy is slowly stagnating, our military is out of practice. What else is new?" He shrugged, though he knew Lord Salisbury could not see it. "Where are you now, then? It appears you are calling from an aeroplane; I thank the background noise and my call display for that, but you could be anywhere."

Salisbury noted the disheartened sigh audible in his friend's answer, but decided not to press the issue - not quite yet at least, for he still needed to land safely without much fanfare. "Indeed, your powers of observation have not yet begun to fail you, despite your retirement from the world stage. At the moment I believe the aircraft is actually several thousand meters above Palatinia." He hoped that the specific geographic reference would grab Ell's attention if the simple fact of a phone call in the early morning hours had not.

And that it did, for Ell's expression of weary boredom and exhaustion instantly changed as though there was a fire lit beneath him. "What... why? Well, I suppose you won't take no for an answer now that you're basically here already. But, Alistair, I still don't understand. There are so many things that you could have the urgency to discuss with me. What is so important?" He heard footsteps behind him and turned. Giovanna had woken from the cell phone ringing and Tim's voice, most obviously. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but he put a hand up to silence her, mouthing the words "hold on" to her. She sat down on a bar stool, staring at him inquisitively.

Salisbury took a quiet sip from a glass of water he held steady in his right hand. "I'm terribly sorry to be so blunt about the matter but suffice to say the proximate cause for my clandestine trip - as neither Mr. Sorantanali nor Dr. Sancatto Serra have been apprised of this visit - is this debacle over the cartoon that appeared in what of the UK's papers." For a moment the Prime Minister paused, debating within his own mind whether to continue. "That is not, of course, the entire story but suffice to say I remain leery of the security of this conversation via mobile phones and all - despite what the intelligence agencies tell me."

Ell was about to interrupt - He wants to talk about a damned cartoon in person at four in the morning? - but wisely kept his mouth sealed until Lord Salisbury had finished. "I understand your concern about the mobile phones, though I assure you at least that my end is routed through a secure satellite network. Regardless, you are welcome at my home any time. I suppose if the Prime Minister and the Agustinate are not to know of your visit that we must keep it under wraps, so here is what I will do on my end. I will contact my friend at the local airfield and he will arrange a landing window for 6.10am. You must land there and not at Mandragora; it will attract way too much attention and our meeting will be terminated before you even jump into a car. Giovanna and I will be there personally to escort you back here to the villa, where we can have breakfast and talk."

Tim paused to take a breath, then continued. "From your end, I need you to do this." He grabbed his notebook computer and launched an application. "You must alert your pilot to change your flight ID code and aeroinformation data to the following." Tim proceeded to spout off a series of numbers, letters and dashes. "That gives you a domestic identifier and keeps the Pacitalian ATCs off your back so they won't think you came from somewhere else. Meanwhile, I will get you a green clearance to land at Springenti Voli. Safe flight, Alistair." He closed the phone and tossed it onto the counter.

Giovanna's head was tilted lightly to the side. "What was that all about?"

"We're going to have a visitor in about two hours. Let's get dressed and tidy up the house. Wake Rosetta and send her on morning leave. Absolutely nobody can know about this, nobody."

"Why are we going to the airfield, and who's this visitor?" She was not going to take anything less than the facts, Tim knew.

"Alistair. And because, again, nobody must know."

"Alistair Tetley?! Why is he in Pacitalia? Doesn't Sorantanali know?"

"No, and we're trying to keep it that way. Let's get going, sweetheart."

He moved over to the stove and turned it off, dumping the scalded milk in the sink. There was no need for hot chocolate now, anyway. He needed coffee instead.
Ottoman Khaif
30-05-2006, 04:37
Meeting of the three ever-watchful Hawks of the Imperium

The AMI, High Guard, and SIA Headquarters, Bursa, Bursa Sub Province, Turkey, Khailfah al Muslimeen

The city of Bursa was known for its ski resorts (on the mountain of Uludağ), the mausoleums of Ottoman sultans, and the surrounding fertile plain. It is also the home of some famous Turkish foods, especially chestnut desserts and a meat dish called İskender kebap. And it was one of the centers of automobile industry in Turkish provinces. Yet another thing the city was known for was the headquarters of the three intelligence agencies of the Imperium. Which were located just 30 miles south outside of the city, in roughed hilly areas of the Province. The area around the three headquarters was constantly guard by Ninth Directorate (Guards) and no one was allowed without permission of the Head of AMI. The guards had shot on sight order for anyone trying to get without clearance, plus there were number of Security systems in place, such as motion sensors, cameras and etc, all in place thought the outer areas of the region, all to prevent trespassers from entering the area.

All three headquarter building looked the same. Sine they were builds in the 1930s, and rebuild after the years of Chaos. The oldest agency out of the three was the Al Muslimeen Intelligence, which was known as the OI or Ottoman Intelligence, which was founded in 1912, then it change its name after Sultan Bashir ended the Ottoman Khailfah and change it to Khailfah al Muslimeen, on May 1,2005. The second oldest was the High Guard, which was founded in 1928, It was given the task to handle Military Intelligence for the Imperium government, they are one of the most infamous out of three agencies. And last but not least was the State Investigates Agency, which was found in 1962, it main goal was to handle local matters as the AMI and High Guard main goals was to hand International and other key areas of internal affairs. These agencies were eyes and ears of the Imperium, ever watchful of all events taking place in Khailfah, they were the protectors of the dogma of the Imperium, their duty was to protest the state from harm and take out for the good of the state. They were only answerable to the Imperial Senate and the Sultan, no one else, yet they were totally independent of most government laws and controls, they could do almost anything as long they did in the interest of the state, in other words for the greater good. Another oddly with the Intel agencies, they had many ex-KGB (Russian) agents running a number of departments or working for the agencies, yet there was a rule of thumb for the agencies, the overall head must be Muslim, plus a good number of Germans also were in great numbers in the Intel Agencies, and also number of agents from other Intel agencies also work for Intel agencies of KLM, these were one of the many unanswered questions about Intel Agencies, but no one brother to ask the question, since they wouldn’t get a answer back. Just this was the paradox known as the KLM Intel agencies.


Here is a pic of Headquarters buildings
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Buildings/kgb.jpg

Inside the region, a very important meeting of the Intel heads was going to take place. It was going to take in an underground bunker roughly three stories under ground. The bunker itself was made to be to spy proof, and sound proof. What happens in that meeting stays in that meeting, that was the policy of such meeting like this, where all the Intel heads are in one room.

The stainless steel doors opened by Ninth Directorate Guards officers, then a large group of men enter the large room. They took their seats along the long table. The room itself had many flat screens and computers running, showing the latest updates on any topic that Intel agencies were interest in. When everyone was settled in, the Guards close the doors and just the meeting was now in session

“This meeting of the Intel agencies of the Khailfah is here by in session. The topic of this meeting is the threat that the United Kingdom of Oceania poses to our interest in the Indian Ocean and world over.” Stated Head of Al Muslimeen Intelligence- Seyyed Zia'eddin Tabatabaee

Then all the screens showed all information about Oceania, which was open to the Public and some information that wasn’t open to the public.

“It should noted, that we just discussing how powerful of a threat we might be facing, in the near future.”remarked Director of High Guard - Ibrahim Abboud (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/freeman.jpg)

“But they are still an probably rival to us in the Indian Ocean, that’s why we must discuss this matter with most important for the stake of the state, that’s why President Ismail al-Azhari and Premier Khan Noonien Singh of the Imperial Senate, request this meeting to discuss the threat of Oceania poses our assets in the Indian Ocean.” Said National Security Adviser- Dr. Sergei Vadimovich Stepashin (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/WIL-2.jpg)

“Well from what we seen of their thought process, they are new British Empire…in a matter of speaking.. they are our naturally rivals since they so like the British of old days…just we must be watchful of them. They do pose a theat to our Southeast Asian assets if they choose to attack them.” stated Department Head of the AMI - Julius Hermann Moritz Busch (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/go.jpg)

“That’s why we are going to step up intelligence gathering actives on Oceania, plus we must step up watch over all Oceanian nationals within our lands….” Remarked Chairmen of the High Guard - Karl Hermann Amandus Schwarz (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/e8249243.jpg)

“And that’s where my directorate comes in, I’ll start assign agents and some sections to this mission…of keeping watch..” stated The AMI Second Chief Directorate- Dr. Nikolai Alexandrovich (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/diehard2f.jpg)

“Alright as soon we get our embassy back up and running…I’ll see what I can do in terms of setting up agents and implanting them into Oceania….just give me time and notice when the embassy is up and running again.” Said The AMI First Chief Directorate (Foreign Operations)-Dr. Pavel Petrovich Alexandrovich (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/hans3_s.jpg)

“Yet another major thing we must not overlook for our stake….we must step up our surveillance of known Oceanians in our lands , for all we know they might start up some trouble for us….in the long run..” stated Chairmen of the AMI- Heribert Rech (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Rutger_Hauer.jpg)

“We shall do it our part..”remarked Head of Al Muslimeen Intelligence- Seyyed Zia'eddin Tabatabaee

“And SIA shall keep a close watch on any thing out of the normal in terms of terrorism or anything related to Criminal Organizations….we’ll known if the Oceanians are messing around in those areas in our backyard.” Said Chairmen of SIA - Idriss Déby (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Marcus_Dixon.jpg)


“Gentlemen, this cartoon incident is just the begining of the clash between Oceania and us.. its only a matter of time before things really start going down hill…they will try to fuck with us somehow…we got to be one step ahead of them for our own good and for the good of the state…each of us has their orders….we got to be ready for anything for the good of the state.”said Head Commissar of the High Guard– Carl Friedrich von Weizsäcker (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Donald_Sutherland.jpg)


“Agreed. We must be ready for anything…we must start detail background research on these Oceanians and their past, I want to know what the hell their Prime Minister has for breakfast last week.. just because they see themselves as the heirs to British Empire doesn’t make things better..now with this…we must keep a close eye on every thing that they do near our lands…now, lets hope relations can improve and just we don’t have to waste time on this…mess…this meeting of Intel heads is dismiss, we’ll meet against in two weeks time.” Said Head of Al Muslimeen Intelligence- Seyyed Zia'eddin Tabatabaee
Pacitalia
30-05-2006, 04:39
(OOC: Another joint post by Oceania and myself)

6.08am, Springenti Voli Airfield
Beracanto province, Pacitalia

Rays of sun had just started to spray gentle light over the distant but striking mountain ranges of eastern Beracanto, as a clear, cloudless morning was borne out of the throes of a tepid twilight. The airfield was still; no aircraft had landed yet today, it still being early in the morning. One light dimly illuminated the control room of the Springenti Voli ATC tower, while red directional beacons flashed in a pattern along the flat, paved strip that was the airport's single runway. The rotund, imposing man in the control tower was the sole employee on duty at this hour, the perfect situation for a man and a woman who had secretly arranged a landing window.

The bright white headlamps of a sleek, ebony Peruzzi Messano sedan pierced a section of the dense brush and dry woods surrounding the airfield. Weedy, thick grasses brushed the undercarriage as it bounced off a narrow track path, through a hole in the chain-link fence, and up onto a gravel service road that ringed the runway. This, obviously, was not the main entrance to the airfield, but it proved more than handy in situations where the good friend of the man in the control tower required discretion and secrecy.

The driver of the roomy vehicle switched off the headlights and accelerated slowly along the bare road, the gravel so forcefully pushed into the soil from airport service vehicles that the roadway was less like gravel and more like a dirt bowling lane with the occasional pebble or two. Handling the wheel with grace and an air of experience, the man, wearing sunglasses despite the darkness outside, turned the vehicle around completely to face the hole in the fence. He switched off the ignition, nodded to his passenger and they exited the vehicle, jogging across. The man, dressed in a pair of white khakis, a fine Pacitalian-made silk shirt of a charcoal hue, untucked with rolled sleeves and a neat, tidy collar and those sunglasses mounted on a mane of grayish-black hair guided his passenger, a dark- and straight-haired woman in a fluffy white cotton skirt, dark blue jean jacket and light blue blouse, across the dark tarmac. They reached the door to the tower, knocked three times and waited with held breath.

The portly man answered almost immediately. "Timotaio, how good it is to see you again, my dear boy, it has been so long, how are you?" The salutations and greetings disguised under a thick, sugary Beracantan accent seemed to never end until Tim cut them short by calmly raising his hand.

"Giulio, my brother in arms," he responded with a charming smile. "Now, I expect you have set everything up for us?"

"Of course, my boy, of course," Giulio said excitedly, clasping his hands together genially as though he were praying. "Nothing seems to have gone awry with their flight path or the change in transponder codes but we still, of course, are going to have a hard time explaining a landing if someone sees it, especially since it's being kept off the ADC."

"The arrivals and departures catalogue will be free of suspicious visitors, indeed, Giulio," Tim replied. "I guess we'll see if shutting off most of the lights at the airfield will help or hinder our guest's landing." He turned and placed into the ATC's hand a manila envelope with twenty-five slightly aged twenty doura notes. "Thank you again, Giulio. This gesture of kindness and understanding has not gone unheeded. We appreciate it."

The men exchanged grins, and at that very second, the low drone of an XL-200 Hedley turbojet could be heard gradually increasing in volume as it approached west by northwest, descending. The plane reached the runway and its lights illuminated the 2000m strip of pavement as it braked sharply and taxied the very short distance to what was unofficially the terminal building. By this point, Tim and Giovanna had already descended the staircase and emerged onto the tarmac, jogging once more towards the plane as the aircraft's portable stairs opened and hit the pavement.

Emerging from the plane, a tall, thin man with glasses and an inquisitive look but calm and confident demeanour descended the staircase and looked out at his surroundings. Left behind was the cool, drizzly springtime of Oceania; instead the man found himself in dry, tepid Beracanto where the sun's rays were already starting to warm the arid landscape and light up the sky enough that anybody observing from a short distance could see exactly what was going on.

"Alistair Tetley, by the light of day," Tim exclaimed, approaching the prime minister of Oceania and shaking his hand. The two men proceeded to embrace as friends do. "How was the rest of your flight?"

Salisbury smiled at his friend. "The flight, I must confess, was rather long," he replied as he stepped over to Giovanna. He lightly took her hand in his and kissed it in an old-fashioned style, but one quite common to the upper class of Oceania. "My lady, you look as lovely as ever." He turned back to his friend and without a beat continued his prior line of response. "I was on the phone with the Foreign Secretary, the new head of the Royal Intelligence Service, and the Defence Secretary throughout most of the flight," Salisbury shook his head as he realised that his answer was becoming but a speech on a tarmac. "Suffice to say, it is quite nice to see you, old friend."

"Indeed, but we must go, Alistair," Tim said anxiously. "It's getting too light out for this." He signalled to Giulio in the tower. "My friend up in the control booth there is radioing your pilot clearance to depart. We need to go now." He pointed to the sedan. "Over there's our transport."

Salisbury nodded. "Indeed," he hastened his pace while an aide handed him a briefcase before returning to the plane and pulling up the small door with its attached steps. The prime minister offered a brief wave to the pilot before following Ell to the sedan. "I must say, Tim," Salisbury said while opening the door for Ell and his wife, "that all this sneaking around really does come quite natural to you." He smirked as he pulled himself into the vehicle and shut the door behind him.

The former prime minister gave his Oceanian counterpart a look in the rear-view mirror, but his face quickly broke into a grin and he chuckled, remembering his six-year stint in the SAFD. "Yes, I suppose so. Sadly, this is a thousand and one times more serious, or so you have made it out to be. Buckle up." He switched into drive and accelerated down the "gravel" path and through the hole in the fence, back out into the densely-treed and shrouded track path that led back to the C-class highway.

Palm fronds and cactus needles brushed and scraped the side of the polished, sleek sedan as it bounced, zigged and zagged along the rough, rutted track, overgrown with flowery plants and ferns. The air was much more humid in this area than out in the open airfield to the point where Tim had to switch the air conditioning on. Alistair had already taken off his suit jacket because of the rapid climate adjustment he had just endured.

They emerged onto a two-lane highway that snaked along a mountainside. Up ahead on the left a sign read Sapuntoli, 302km via B418, access road 5km ahead in both Pacitalian and English, while a sign in the opposite direction read Mandragora, 241km via A50 or 163km via A5, access roads 6km ahead. Ell accelerated and turned right, heading east on the highway. They passed the main entrance to the airport two minutes later and soon stopped at a four-way stop with more signage. The sign indicated the town of Springenti Voli was straight ahead, again pointing left or right for access to Mandragora.

Ell went left this time, accelerating to a more-than-illegal 120kph as the high-performance sedan flew past highway markers, trees and bewildered animals and birds. Revving the engine as high as he could get it without alerting anybody, the speedometer passed 160kph and hung there almost precariously until they passed a large sign that said "Monticello Serrado Vineyards" and the sedan decelerated. Ell turned onto the access road and approached the quiet and dark villa, coming to a stop and opening the door.

He opened the right-side doors and urged his wife and guest out of the vehicle. "In the shed," he said, pointing to a small, dark roofed outbuilding across the paved lot that was slightly sheltered by grape vines. "I need to check if we were followed, or more importantly, if we have other -- unwelcome -- guests already here," Tim quickly added, in response to what he perceived as a questioning look on Alistair's face. He pulled the lid off a ceramic wine urn stowed in the bottom corner near the door of the shed and retrieved a loaded Pomentane Ballistics C-610 9mm. "I'll be back in moments." He turned a key on the other wall and watched as the gate to the driveway slowly lurched shut, hopefully just securing three people inside the property.

The prime minister did as he was told and obeyed as silently as possible. When the two reached the shed, Salisbury closed his eyes and lowered his head, the two of them listening as Ell's footsteps slowly faded as he ran across the large swath of land around the villa.

Giovanna noted the expression on Salisbury's face, along with his body language, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Alistair, are you all right?" she said, her voice laden with concern. She stood up and moved over to the workdesk, retrieving a glass, filling it with water and wetting a terry-cloth towel. She returned to the bench where Salisbury was sitting.

"Quite so, madame," he said. "It just so happens that on the last occasion where I was forced by necessity to scurry about in secrecy I lost a dear friend of mine." Salisbury took the glass of water and the towel and bowed politely, "thank you most kindly". He took a long sip of water and wiped from his brow the memory of his mentor and friend Tobias Heath. Finally he smiled, "Thank you again, madame."

"Of course... I won't dig any deeper into this last occasion of yours if you so desire. I'm still a little confused as to why you would come to Springenti Voli early in the morning."

"I'm afraid, my dear, that something is rotten in the state of Denmark tonight," Salisbury said half to himself before his smile slowly disappeared and faded into a stoic look of concern. "I'm afraid that a situation is unfolding, rather rapidly actually, that endangers both Pacitalia and the United Kingdom. And at this moment, between you, me and these walls, I am afraid Mister Sorantanali cannot save Pacitalia. For this is a challenge that requires greater men than he, and I do believe that your husband is just such a man."

Giovanna winced at the reference to Shakespeare's Hamlet; she had minored in classical literature at the Eastern Beracanto Liberal Arts Institute. But she understood, both from his words and his facial expression what the Oceanian prime minister was looking for. She knew then what was so important that he needed to take a nearly 15-hour flight just to meet Tim in person to discuss.

Just then, the door to the shed opened and Giovanna and Salisbury were startled but quickly relieved, for they saw Tim standing there, calm and collected. "Nothing around," he reported offhandedly. "You free for breakfast, Alistair?" he said, slightly breathless but still managing to grin heartily.

Salisbury and Giovanna stood and the three walked towards the villa, the freshly-risen sun warm on their backs.
Isselmere
30-05-2006, 18:26
Although the situation in Sarzonia might have been calm, the Isselmere-Nielanders were too preoccupied with the own worries to know it.

At first, the situation did not appear altogether grim. When the public and Parliament became aware of the drawing there were the typical declarations to the media from those condemning the picture’s insensitivity and those protecting the public’s right to know what was so offensive. That evening’s Nightly News on INBC presented a short discussion with Imam Ahmed al-Batani of the Daurmont Muslim Council and Jarvis Ibling, a Crown counsellor, facing off against Bertrand Hammond, publisher of the Daurmont Times-Chronicle, and Stephanie Roberts, head of the Isselmere-Nieland Human Rights Collective (INHRC). Imam al-Batani politely supported and Ibling explained the governing Conservative Party’s attempts to prevent the republication of the Oceanian cartoon whilst Hammond and Roberts defended the freedom of expression with equal civility, an event replayed on several other channels albeit with different participants. Most of the country went to bed thinking about how interesting the newscasts had been but without any great concern.

Parliament was not so hopeful. In an emergency session, the Conservatives sought to ram through a bill that reinforced the hate crime legislation currently in the Criminal Code to prevent the publication of the cartoon. The Communist Party, wanting to emphasise the differences between itself and Labour as well as seeing the chance to wreak havoc on the monarchy, gave the measure its vocal support. Labour and its equally peculiar bedfellow in opposition to the bill, the Loyal Monarchist Party, presented a resolute defence of public liberties against the tyranny of the State, stating the evident fact that whilst the government could deny the image’s publication in the press and on television, it could not control the Internet. Though discomfited, Geoffrey Middleton and his Conservatives pressed on.

In the midst of the heated debates sat the Liberal Democratic Party utterly perplexed as what to do with itself. As a friend to both business and civil liberties, it was against both the bill and the government’s aggressive stance. But the Liberal Democrats were also firm defenders of religious freedoms. They had promoted the Disestablishment Act. In the end, the leader of the Liberal Democratic Party, Brian Watson, opted to allow his fellow members a free vote.

If the Liberals were the majority party within Parliament, both the bill and the government would have been narrowly defeated, requiring a vote of confidence in Middleton’s administration. As it was, the Conservatives and Communists scraped by with a slim victory, but the Opposition formally requested the bill undergo the scrutiny of the Supreme Court, delaying the measure’s chance of receiving royal assent for a day at the very least – the Senate being firmly in the Conservatives grasp.

Despite the machinations in Parliament, the Temple Guards and the Royal Gendarmerie were swift to prepare themselves for the possible furore they might greet in the morning. The Royal Gendarmerie was the United Kingdom’s paramilitary police force, ready to mobilise at a moment’s notice. It responded immediately to the Home Minister’s call forming securing the various ambassadorial districts, assembling a full company around the Oceanian embassy alone. By morning, light metal barricades had been arranged around the facility, inside of which the gendarmes, led by Chief Inspector David Michaelson, stood in full riot gear armed with their L17 service rifles fitted with non-lethal attachments. Behind these police officers sat their Vixen APCs armed with water cannons and, although all hoped they would not be necessary, machine guns.

Elsewhere throughout the United Kingdom thousands of small contingents of the massive Temple Guards Regiment patrolled around mosques and synagogues. The Guards were the Isselmere-Nielander Army’s oldest regiment and had remained mobilised – albeit mostly for ceremonial reasons – since 1684, obviating the need for the government to enact a state of emergency to secure the peace. The Regiment was forbidden by both statute (Temple and Gates Act, 1792) and more tangible reasons to patrol the outskirts of predominantly Muslim and Jewish communities. Even if the guards could have established a presence outside of those neighbourhoods, it would likely have exacerbated tensions between those groups and the State. Besides, the segregated communities of the past had, for the most part, long since dispersed into the broad and variegated fabric of Isselmere-Nielander society, rendering both defence and attack an impossible task. The open nature of Isselmere-Nielander society left neither Major Lewis Cohen nor his host, Imam Karim Mussedeq, who were presently enjoying tea and a discussion of the last football season with in the city of Grimsby Downs, with any worries of potential unrest. Within a few hours they would learn of their mistake.

----

The next day began much like the one before, except that the roads in many towns were more congested than usual. Tom Halland was on his way to an exam at university in Daurmont when the bus stopped for a protest march. Definitely late spring, he thought. Glad I left an hour early. It looked like an orderly group simply carrying placards and chanting slogans; nothing worth much notice. The noise to his right, whence that group came, was growing louder.

Halland saw a massive throng of young people, university and college students, he suspected correctly, bearing large banners in defence of the freedom of expression. Having been preoccupied with revising for his exam, he had little idea what his fellow students were protesting. After those two groups, however, a short gap appeared before the next contingent emerged.

When he saw the first members of this second segment of the march, he knew the cause for the gap immediately. Politicians, always seeking to put their names in print. Just as quickly, the strange collection of Members of Parliament struck Halland as being very odd. Members of the Loyal Monarchist Party rubbed shoulders with those from Labour. Slightly behind them cantered a few important figures from the Independence Party, who seemed to be exhorting their parliamentary colleagues and their hangers-on, who seemed to number in the hundreds, if not thousands, to hurry up. As this second group travelled through the intersection, he noticed that the freedom-loving calls of the first and much of the second segments shifted towards anti-immigrant chants. Halland looked forward to the driver who was deep in conversation with a supervisor.

Until now, Halland had not noticed the driver was black. Her accent was decidedly from Daurmont – Newmarket, to be exact – but Tom doubted the coming crowd would pay much attention to that.

To be continued.
Ottoman Khaif
31-05-2006, 05:00
After four days of profound debating within the Sultan cabinet and the Imperial Senate, the go ahead for restoring full foreign relations with Oceania was finally granted and notice was send to Oceanian government. Only half of the original staff from the last embassy was assign to the new embassy mission to Oceania. The total number of personal was about 20 Guards and 30 Embassy staff member plus the new Ambassador. And no one knew that AMI had two agents posing at staff members, and the High Guard had two agents posing as staff member too. Yet the AMI Agents didn’t know that there was like High Guard agent along them, and likewise for the High Guard.

At the Istanbul International Airport, 5:00 A.M, in the morning, a rather large group of people were boarding an Imperial Government chartered Airbus A340 Passage Jet. It was going to be long trip from Istanbul to Imperium, which an 18 hour flight…a very long flight for the passengers.

The last person to enter the plane was the Ambassador herself, Elizabeth Diamandis, it was the tradition of the Foreign Ministry for Ambassador leaving to their new post to be the last to leave their home country. She could speak English, Mandarin Chinese, German, Arabic, Persian, Greek and French; it was part of the job to many as many languages as you can. She was fairly attractive and young many wonder why she got the post as Ambassador at such a young age, she was wearing a black business suit with a blue bottom up long shelve shirt. Another note of interest she had a golden ring band on her ring finger, whenever asked about it she simple say it was personal and she didn’t want to talk about it openly.

She was fairly tired from waking early for her new long-term assignment as ambassador to Oceania. Her mind was reviewing all important information on Oceania, and making sure that she knew all the facts about the her new assignment. When she made her approach to stairs of the plane, her personal head chief guard greeted her.

“Ambassador Diamandis, ready for you trip?” asked Captain Hans of the Embassy Guard

She smiled and reply” Oi…I am as ready as I’ll be..”

“ Good to hear. Best advise for these long trips…is to sleep.” Remarked Captain Hans

“ I can’t sleep on planes…I’ll just read the latest reports on Oceania and the catch up on some T.V…18 hours of ….flying…agh…I am going to be so out of it…when we get there..” She replied

“Duly noted.. Ambassador” remark Hans

Then they got on the plane, and just it look off from Istanbul International Airport, Ambassador Diamandis looked the window to see Istanbul, she knew that she won’t coming home for sometime.

18 hours later

The Airbus landed in Emperor’s Field, without any problems. Ambassador Diamandis drink any four cups of coffee to just herself awake, She was the first one to step out of the plane and thought to herself “We’ll here it goes.”

Out to greet her were the Oceanian Crown Guard, despise being very tired and jet lag, she put a smile and kept on walking to meet the Oceanian Official, at the airport.
Pacitalia
31-05-2006, 07:13
(OOC: Another joint post by Oceania and myself)

7.55am, Villa Monticello Serrado
Springenti Voli, Beracanto, Pacitalia

Salisbury sat at a bar stool in the sun-lightened kitchen of Tim and Giovanna's villa, flicking through the morning's copies of La Repubblica Oggia and the Mandragora Guardian. The rays of a golden ball of fire in the sky illuminated the modern room with its granite countertops, slate flooring and walls and stainless steel appliances. Brewing on the counter was a fresh pot of Pacitalian mangalina nera black tea with a dash of fresh bergamot oil - it was the closest Tim could get to his friend's favourite Earl Grey. There was a Bodum press of intense, literally black Fincasso-bean coffee brewing on a timer beside the sink.

Tim was cooking waffles in the press machine while Giovanna's blueberry and cheese scones baked happily away in the oven. After he finished whipping some Cerignola cream for the Belgian waffles and crushing wild blackberries into a syrup, he pulled out a cutting board and started cutting up fresh strawberries, peaches and mangoes from the garden and grapes from the vineyard. Giovanna had even gone out and picked some mangoflowers from the tree as garnish. As he was cutting, he turned to Salisbury.

"So, then, what's so important, Alistair? I need you to be totally frank because it obviously has to be absolutely earthshattering for you to come all this way. Plus I feel like I'm missing something in the equation here. Is it something you need?"

The tea finished brewing and Tim passed the Oceanian prime minister a bone china cup and saucer, stirring spoon, a little pitcher of three-percent milk and a bowl of refined sugar. As Alistair made his reply, he began extracting the waffles from the press and putting them onto a large plate. Giovanna had already set the table on the sundeck and was using the manual press out by the shed to make fresh juice from wild, sweet blood oranges.

"You are aware of this whole cartoon debacle, no?" Salisbury removed his spoon as he watched his friend nod. Salisbury looked down at Ell's end of the table and continued flicking through the two daily papers; assuredly the Pacitalians had some coverage of the most recent events. "For starters, I had thought that Pacitalia and the United Kingdom were allies," Salisbury remarked with only the smallest amount of anger in his voice. "And while I must say I respect your former government's position on recognizing other nations' sovereignty - for this Sorantanali chap to not have uttered but the quietest chirp is rather discomforting."

Ell nodded once again. "Certainly, this is troubling. I expected Sorantanali to at least support you; after all, his emergence as the prime minister was supposed to signal the solidification of the Big Three - you, he and Lord Rosecrans - as the compassionate capitalist leaders of the free world. But he is widely seen as a failure now, and I suspect that his misdeeds in foreign policy have led him into a corner, and he is simply afraid to say anything for fear that the entire country will collapse from his statements."

Tim poured himself some of the coffee and took a sip. "Now, his administration not only has failed abroad but it has failed domestically. I fear he will be unable to lead effectively in only a month from now, and that we will see a new prime minister and a new administration by then. With low approval ratings like that, it's only a matter of time until that happens. And it's the best explanation for why Sorantanali is not speaking out on your behalf. If nobody cares, nobody listens... that sort of thing. But he's a fool to think that you can get enough support from other nations to replace the credibility he doesn't think he has but what still remains from my administration and that of Francesco's."

Salisbury took a quiet sip of his tea. "Not too shabby, Tim. Not at all. However, to return to topic," he continued, replacing the teacup on the china plate, "your estimation of a month falls in line with my own estimation of the situation, as well as the official estimates by the Foreign Office. The concern I have, however, is for the future of Pacitalia. I daresay that, and far be it for me to say with anything more than an outsider's perspective, but," Salisbury paused, finding himself shaking his head, "a collapse of the Sorantanali administration could very well signal the end, or at least a significant erosion of the dominance, of the FPD.

"But you have also begun to scratch the deeper motivations for this visit. My astute friend, perhaps not all the gifts of a masterful politician have faded into a civilian life. At least not yet." Salisbury took another sip of his tea. "While I have not met Lord Rosecrans, from what I have observed he has proven himself a stalwart ally and certainly deserving of a position within this Big Three you have imagined. However, and I say this between ourselves and these walls, that the largest of the Big Three is unquestionably Pacitalia - not to denigrate the Grand Duchy or the United Kingdom, but the clout of Pacitalia is far more reputed and internationally recognised. The removal of an FPD administration will, I fear, erode the power of the Big Three if not fracture it."

Ell looked at his friend for a couple of seconds before tilting his head to the side, his lips opening in a thin smile. "I very much appreciate the compliment, Alistair, but I have no plans to return to Timiocato and be prime minister again unless that's what the people want. Sorantanali's administration may be a big mess, and, yes, it's nice to have sixty percent of the current cabinet still loyal to oneself, but I have lost most of my federal connections. Sorantanali has long feared he will never match the productivity of Santo Ragazzo's and my administrations and so, to allow himself more selfconfidence and to I daresay, make himself feel like he's not being watched, he has cut me out of Timiocato affairs. He didn't have anything to worry about but I cannot say the two of us are friends anymore. And I seemed to have put too much faith in his federal political abilities. He's still leading like a premerato because he doesn't know how to do it any other way. And he's toast because of it. But there's nothing much I can do on my own, even if I wanted that office back."

He put on a pair of oven mitts and retrieved the baking sheet from the oven, dumping the fresh scones into a basket. The wonderful smell of freshly-baked pastries, waffles, and delicious fruit warmed the air. Tim reached into the fridge while Alistair made his reply, pulling jam, hazelnut and peanut butters and a heel of cabrano cheese out of the dairy store. Then, he moved over to the pantry and pulled a bag of crunchy cinnamon granola out, pouring it into a glass bowl and putting a scoop in it.

Salisbury nodded. "Of course one must respect the will of the people, for anything else would be tyranny. However, the people cannot vote for an individual unless he puts him or herself forward." The Prime Minister paused for a moment while he drank his tea and nibbled on one of the scones set before him. "And of course, the United Kingdom fully respects the sovereignty of the Republic of Pacitalia - however, from what I understand my speeches on occasion receive live coverage on the major Pacitalian broadcast networks, no?"

Ell chuckled in response. "I watch you make top and bottom hour with amusement, my friend. Yes, you do. PNN, PBC News, PTN... you name it. Even the observer's section of La Repubblica Oggia has been speculating quite frequently lately, as to why Sorantanali is keeping his mouth shut while you and Lord Philip crusade on behalf of the three of our nations. It's quite embarrassing for all of us; all that we in the FPD have worked for is lost because of the missteps Constantino has made on what seems a daily basis. Though I think I've said this candidly before, I will gladly state again that Sorantanali is not an FPD prime minister. His beliefs are too centrist for the party, and had he been elected leader of the NPA, which is more like his tastes, he wouldn't be sitting over the Bullpen right now. That's what is interesting to me." Ell sipped his Fincasso coffee. "Not only that, Pacitalians, if I may say, are turning to you as their de facto leader, someone they can trust for his experience and his intelligence, over the de jure head of state. And that I feel is more troubling for Pacitalian democracy and politics than what a loss of power by the FPD might be."

"Tim, you know I am not a man of short sentences or, frankness, is how I believe you put it; but time for Pacitalia is running out." Salisbury leaned forward, pulling himself away from the comfort of the chair. "The Foreign Office sends me reports daily on how Pacitalian influence is beginning to wane in the world because of Sorantanali's silence on an issue central to pluralist democratic states. More so," he added with an air of self-confidence, "I foresee a time in the near future when this conflict will evolve beyond mere ink drawings in a paper in Port Hamptonshire - and should Sorantanali choose again to remain silent I fear that the world shall unite behind those democracies or one in particular at least I believe both us would rather not see leading the free nations of the world. Already the influence of that bloc is growing, and far too fast and far too much for my liking. Unfortunately I can do only so much to stem a surging tide. I need the help of the Pacitalian people. I need your help."

Tim's nightmare from the previous restless night came back to him. "Alistair... I will do anything for my country, I love Pacitalia more than anyone, and arguably so. What I can do for you on a personal level is boundless, but sadly what I can do for her is limited without your help. Suffice to say we need each other's help, we must be a team."

He looked pensive for a few more seconds before adding. "All right, I made up my mind - Pacitalia needs me back, and while I hate to be arrogant, perhaps I am the best man for the job. Frankly, there is no one else in the current time to replace Sorantanali because we need some experience back in the capital. I want to be prime minister again, at least to keep the ship righted until someone competent comes in for permanency. Will you be my foreign voice to get me back in the ring?"

"Absolutely, my friend," Salisbury responded without hesitation. "For starters, although I have some time before I need to return to Imperium, perhaps my flight could very well leave in daylight with a photograph of the UK Prime Minister on Pacitalian soil. I should think that should send a rather resounding jolt to both the domestic leadership and the international community."

"I don't know about that, Alistair," Ell said, looking worried. "As much as I would like to speed up Sorantanali's demise and send him a message that his time is up, that might make our motives known all too well, all too quickly, and he would just shut that down. Plus, this part of Beracanto, the wine region, it's well known around the country. People would know where you were and, thus, why you were here."

"Valid points," Salisbury said after a moment's thought and another sip of tea. "However, I think that time is not a luxury afforded us at the moment and that whatever is to be done must be done within a matter of weeks and not months. Again, between us and these walls actions are being taken by the United Kingdom that will seek to undermine the links between those nations I style faux-democracies - and unfortunately that schedule shall run its course in a matter of weeks. I will, of course, bow to your take on Pacitalian politics as I am but an outsider in these lands."

"Of course, and like I said, my connections have been severed, without my knowledge or consent in many cases, so I can only do what I have access to achieve, as it were." Tim stared out the window, watching one of Beracanto's famous dry, hot breezes sweep through the grape vines in its usual lazy swagger. "Here's what we can do, though. I will take a photo of you when we're back at the airfield, of you boarding a plane back to Imperium. I will release it to major media organisations, with a suitable caption, in exactly one week should the cabinet revolt not succeed in bringing about a referendum by that time. And if it happens the day I release it, it will be a convenient double-whammy. If it happens shortly after, then we have achieved our objective perfectly."

"That shall work splendidly." For a moment, Salisbury too stared out the window. "There are times I wish I could return to the far simpler life of sailing my boat on the open sea or run through wooded hills and lush river valleys. My fear, however, always resurfaces in the very next moment when the eye blinks or the nostrils twitch. For decades the United Kingdom has managed to run her course without foreign interference and not intruding too much in the world's affairs. But now, Tim, now the world is different. I find myself at the helm of a ship of state increasingly important in the world's wider sea."

He took his eyes away from the rustic scene, pleasant but uniquely distinct from his own home in Salisbury. "And while there are a few solid chaps upon whom I can depend, many more lurks in the swells or beneath the surface waiting to strike and sink that ship. My ship. I had wished not to drag you into this whole affair, however, your successor seems, well, frankly, not up to the task. But I digress, my friend. Another photograph. This shall be perhaps the only trip abroad where there is but a single photograph." Slowly, the Prime Minister allowed himself to recline once more into his chair while his outstretched hand took hold of the teacup and finished off his tea.

"I feel there are only a few in this world that understand there are certain people that need to be in power at certain times, and coincidentally enough, most of them are in power," Tim replied, snickering. "I thank God every day that I am one of them. I know in my soul that we need to succeed, that we will succeed. There's no question the odds are in our favour."

"That may very well be so, but it does not make the task any less daunting. But I suppose," Salisbury said with a content smile, "that such is the distinguishing characteristic between great and lesser men. The lesser men will settle instead of lifting the weight of the world upon their shoulders. And while the greater may not succeed and may be crushed by that weight - the world ultimately knows they tried something that could not be done." Finally he nodded at his friend, "and for those that do succeed the world stands in awe for the world becomes changed in an inalterable way."

"Hey, now that's the Alistair Tetley I know. So... let's eat, and tell Giovanna the good news." Tim and Alistair put the food and condiments on a couple of trays and emerged onto the sundeck where Giovanna was pouring blood orange juice into glasses filled with ice. The air was warm but dry - in a word, pleasant. They sat down and Tim raised his glass. "To friends, to life and to patriotism. And to standing up for what is right in this world. May this beautiful Republic never falter in the face of tests such as this."

Their glasses clinking against each other in assent, the three drank a few sips of the sweet juice, then tucked into the delicious spread, with the two men, at least, feeling like a weight had been lifted off their respective shoulders, the worry and concern fading like the moon in the light blue sky above.
Allanea
31-05-2006, 08:48
In the headquarters of the Special Interest Studios, Inc.

The masked director leaned back. His employees could not see that he was smiling, but they could certainly guess it from his tone of voice. "Well… I see the film is ready. It's a very good film, too! Better then the ordinary stuff we put out – well, considering it's a porn flick- err, I meant erotic production. Erotic production, that's the ticket."

"Now, here's what I want you to do. Joey, go work on the press release. Nathan, get the damn thing uploaded to the PPV site. And Mahmood, I understand you have some relatives in Ottoman Khaif."

"Yes, but they don't know I work for the industry."

"Naturally. Wouldn't want your relatives to know that you have left Islam to star in erotic production, would you? Not that they'll recognize you with all that makeup in the donkey scene… anyway. Where was I. You need to email your relatives so they'd hear about the movie. Blow the controversy out of proportion."

"Well, considering this film is offensive to the very name and memory of the Prophet, it would be difficult to blow it out of proportion… but I know what you meant, Sir."

"Well, Mahmood, if you do, get to typing."

Two hours later, the internet website of Allanea Times had a strange new message on it.

FILM STUDIO MAKES BLASPHEMOUS FILM!

Just as things have started to calm down a bit in Ottoman Khaif, an Allanean company decided to capitalize on the cartoon controversy with a totally new gimmick – they based an erotic production on the Koran. While the film replicates the events of the Koran with minimal faithfulness, the amount of erotic – hereto-, homo-, bisexual, lesbian, zoophilic, and BDSM – scenes in the film has been increased to something that probably exceeds the sexual capacity of any prophet.

No muslim groups have reacted so far, however..

This continued in the same way for a page or so. In small type, the article said: article paid for by Special Interest Studios, Inc. runs as advertisement.

As soon as it appeared, Mahmoud sent the link to his relatives in Ottoman Khaif, with a detailed letter. It started:

Dear mother!

Look on the disgusting infidels I live with! I am not sure any longer the salary I get in this IT company is really worth it…
Ottoman Khaif
31-05-2006, 23:10
The letter was circle all over the internet, ever since the riots most the people have clam on down and just vented their thought internet blogs, in most cases they poke humor at it, since it wasn’t even a real insult, since the movie was just a porno and everyone knew that porno’s never had real storylines..just the people of KLM got a good laugh and those hardliners just ignore it and focus their anger at Oceania....by venting their anger via blog.
Allanea
31-05-2006, 23:25
OOC: Well, good pr0n does have storylines, think of Debbie Does Dallas or classic films like that, they all had storylines... anyway back to the plot.
Ottoman Khaif
31-05-2006, 23:30
OOC: Well, good pr0n does have storylines, think of Debbie Does Dallas or classic films like that, they all had storylines... anyway back to the plot.
OOC: I didn't know that fact....alway good to know ....
Azazia
02-06-2006, 04:50
ooc: Joint post between myself and OK.

Somewhere in the Indian Ocean

Beyond the plate glass and the climate control palm trees swayed in gentle breezes rolling off the calm crystal blue shallows of this Indian Ocean atoll. High above, wisps of white pierced the undisturbed blue while down below reds, greens, and pinks dotted the black, finely ground volcanic sand. On the other side a neutral, mottled blue carpeting hid the stains of gum and dirt and sand tracked in by thousands of people moving in off the beaches just beyond the automated sliding doors.

Standing out amongst the kiosks and neon signs advertising cheap meals, rows of seats sat perpendicular to large plate glass windows that on both sides of a central aisle – to the one side the beaches and the other large tarmacs and prop-driven aircraft with different insignia and colours representing different national carriers. Inconspicuously on one of the seats a man of a fair complexion folded over the page of a newspaper. Though among the many who spared a glance – owing to his Caucasian ethnicity in a predominantly south Asian setting – only a few inspected him all that closely, those that did noticing the fairness was but a heavy tan on an ordinarily pale man.

Off to Dawesport I take it? An older man stood with a cane in his right hand, upon which he visibly leaned for support.

Indeed, the first responded, folding the paper over and placing it upon his lap. I’m actually on vacation – it’s my first time to New Albion.

Well then, the elder gentleman replied with a bright smile, a beautiful country it is. A little piece of the old Britain in the Indian Ocean, unfortunately populated by a large number of Indians and other skinnies – none of them appreciative of what the Empire did for them in raising them out of poverty. Ungrateful bastards. But I’m an old man gone ranting.

It’s quite alright, the younger man smiled, forgiving the elderly for their occasional diatribes. He glanced down at his paper and unfolded it, revealing the main headlines for the Georgetown Gazette, considered by many to be the largest and most reputable newspaper from the United Kingdom of Oceania – and widely available throughout the Pacific and Indian Ocean regions. What about this here, he added, pointing out one article in particular to the old man, has this been problematic in New Albion?

The older man laughed politely, absolutely it has. Damn Muslims will not stop yapping about it. They cry insensitivity and insulting before going out and rioting and burning Oceanian flags. Personally, I think they need to grow a thicker skin is all. But the damn Muslimeens, all they ever do is stand idly by and let the locals mock the West and especially the British, they seem quite determined to refer to these Oceanians as the Neo-Brits.

Neo-Brits? I hate to be the questioning sort, but I’ve never been to these parts of the world. Why are they called Neo-Brits?

That Prime Minister of theirs, Saulberry or something or other, went off and created the new ‘Oceanic Empire’, the elder man raised his hands for dramatic emphasis. Some fear an expansion into former British realms – they’ve already done so on numerous occasions. But to their credit, they have put down the mobs who have overreacted to this whole cartoon in a truly British fashion. Makes us old sentimental types long for those days to return to New Albion – but they likely will not with this damn Muslim government overseeing us all. The man paused as his eyes just noticeably watered, to tell you the truth though, chap. New Albion is a beautiful land so long as you stay in the north with your own kind. Damn skinnies rule the south while we rule the north – if you stay in the north, you’ll be safe.

The two found their conversation interrupted by a voice falling from speakers above, calling for the boarding to begin for their flight to Dawesport. Outside the window a small prop-driven aircraft had stopped on the tarmac while a wheeled stairwell had been moved into position. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, sir.

The elder man smiled politely as he walked slowly towards the gate, his cane in his hand. My pleasure, sir. Absolutely mine. By the way, when I think about it, you never told me your name.

My apologies. Henry Carlisle, born in Bermuda but have lived most of my life all across the globe.

But your first time to New Albion?

Indeed.

The Citadel, Imperium, New Britain

The meeting was productive I take it?

Lord Salisbury glanced upwards at the brick ramparts that shielded the Prime Minister’s residence and office from the remainder of the United Kingdom. For the moment, I would prefer not to say anything about the matter – not that I have a lack of faith in you, Emily, but rather, a faith in Murphy’s Law. The sheer fact that a handful of people know about my visit to Pacitalia unnerves me.

But that’s limited to Howard, his deputy, myself, and whoever Dr. Ell had working on his end.

You forget the pilot. Salisbury smiled, reasonably confident that his motorcade staff would also remain silent. Nevertheless he felt better in not telling his Foreign Secretary – just in case. The two continued on their walk around the courtyard, where when the weather agreed the Prime Minister preferred to hold private conversations. But he had called Secretary Deveraux not for a conversation on a secret meeting but for a rather publicized meeting.

To the matter at hand, he finally spoke, breaking the calm silence that hung between the two friends. Who is this ambassador?

A Christian diplomat of Germanic descent with no previous ambassadorial experience, although she did serve as a consul in Sarzonia. From the remainder of the file sent by the Muslimeen Foreign Ministry she is described as multi-lingual and highly familiar with the workings of the KLM government. Deveraux sighed as she finished recanting what she could recall from the file.

The Prime Minister simply nodded. If that is how they would like to proceed, so be it. When does her flight arrive?

Two hours, Your Lordship.

Splendid. Would you care for some tea?

Royal Airport at Emperor’s Field

Since the earliest parts of the 20th century, the Royal Family had owned a large tract of land just outside of Georgetown, what later became Imperium. With the advent of aircraft, the enormously rich coffers of the Barent family paid for the construction of a private airfield on Crown property – an innocuous decision that Lord Salisbury thanked King George for every time foreign diplomats arrived in the United Kingdom. For as private property of the Crown, the media could be legitimately and legally forbidden from entering the grounds – and although it greatly distressed the media it made diplomacy a far great deal easier.

From the safety of a long, black stretch limousine the Prime Minister watched the Airbus descend slowly, but very precisely from the sky – a nearly perfect landing, itself a feat in the strong crosswinds. As the aircraft taxied up to the disembarkation point, the Crown Guard marched in precise fashion with their ceremonial arms on full display. In this instance, their reputation for excellence in combat was superseded only by their near perfection in drill routines and displays for diplomats and heads of state. Finally the slender figure of the next KLM Ambassador to His Majesty’s Government appeared through the upright pikes and sabers of the soldiers.

Salisbury smiled politely as he looked up at the taller diplomat, a common occurrence owing to his relatively short stature. Your Excellency, he began in his characteristically quiet and soft voice, I am the Marquess of Salisbury, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and leader of His Majesty’s Government. On behalf of His Majesty King George and the Government, welcome to the United Kingdom of Oceania.

She smile back and replied back, Prime Minister Salisbury, its a pleasure to finally meet you, and thank you for the welcome. I hope, that we can mend any damage relations between our two respectable nations. Oh silly me, I forgot to introduce myself, Ambassador Elizabeth Diamandis, at your service.

The Prime Minister took the woman’s hand and kissed it politely, as was Oceanian aristocratic tradition. It is my sincere hope that our two great peoples can overcome the differences that divide our two governments and have led to this unnecessary diplomatic conflict. I am, therefore, grateful that your government has decided to restart diplomatic relations and return to Imperium. With a sweep of his arms towards the potted palms and ferns that lined a small garden off to the side of the tarmac, Salisbury led Diamandis away from the concrete that disturbed the tranquil greens of Emperor’s Field.

Ambassador Diamandis follow the Prime Minister thought the gardens; she clearly tired from her long trip. I hope so also, that our nations can overcome this…incident and return normal relations between our nations..but I believe it will take time for that to happen...

The Marquess nodded in solemn agreement. I concur; I think this incident has exposed the level of misunderstanding the Muslim world holds for the West and what at least those here in the United Kingdom regard as sacrosanct – that of freedom of speech and artistic expression. Of course, Salisbury quickly added, this issue of free speech and a free press is not the only area of concern; I must say your recent formalisation of Sino-Muslimeen relations in your mutual defence treaty does not sit well with many here in the UK as they see your recent moves of unprovoked militarisation as unduly threatening areas the Oceanic Empire and her peoples.

Ambassador took a moment to think out a proper reply and then she took a deep breath

Its just a differences of opinion on that subject matter of what's agreeable to certain cultures. She paused then reply to the Prime Minister second statement We of the KLM Imperial Government believes that you nation is a bit overreacting over the matter of Sino-Muslimeen relations, such relations have been in place for many years…unofficially…this treaty just formally made it public…we have no indentations to attack Oceania, we wouldn't think of such a thing. Beside the history between the KLM and China is rather complex, we're foes for quite some time during the cold war and fought a number of wars between eachother…the most recent was the Sino Jihad…which was only a few years ago..yet we both change our ways and decide to be best to work together then to constant fight each other.

Salisbury allowed the one corner of his lip to turn ever so slightly upwards before responding. The Foreign Office, of course, has been fully aware of Sino-Muslimeen relations and the unofficial alliance between your two governments although you must admit your timing of the announcement in the midst of this heated debate between our two nations denotes a certain level of hostility towards the United Kingdom, especially given Oceanian interest in the western Pacific. Of course, when it comes to overreaction, it is the opinion of myself and my ministers that the Muslimeen government has shown an intentional and well-directed overreaction to the portrayal of Mohammed and Islam. While a single political cartoon in a local paper causes rioting that threatens our embassy the world has become audience to freely distributed entertainment videos that depict Islam in an even more detestable fashion and witness to brutal and violent acts of hatred on symbols of Islam. Salisbury paused as he looked squarely in the Ambassador’s eyes. And yet not an ounce of public discontent. No riots. No mob behaviour. No destruction of Amestrian or Allanean property. Call it what you will but many in my government believe that your government willingly cultivated anti-Oceanian sentiments and then released them on the streets while simultaneously placating those elements disturbed by foreign actions inherently more disrespectful and more degrading.

Ambassador looked right into eyes of the Prime Minister

The timing may have not been prefect….but our government have planning to make the treaty public for some time now…as for the accusation that we rioted on purpose just against your nation….actions is a false. We are perfectly bloody aware of that blasted Allanean video….the only reason that riots are not breaking out again is simple we learn our lesson the first time and also our cities are still under martial law just the people are being prevented from protesting like they did during the first release of the cartoon, we are trying to prevent more damages from happening…..second the KLM government will pay all the damages done to all Oceanian assets in our nation at full market value….and also its incorrect to state our people are mostly indifferent to the recently release video….they are venting their anger via internet thought blogs and etc…we do say we're sorry on what happen to your nation assets and the riots. But to accuse us of cultivating any anti-Oceanian felling is just bs, dear Sir!"

The Prime Minister frowned at the woman. I must ask you to calm yourself, Madame Ambassador; please remember to whom you are speaking. The Marquess shook his head before continuing onwards down the path. Unfortunately the lack of transparency in your government prevents the world from ascertaining the degree of veracity with regards to your claim; and while you and your government may very well testify to the view you have just represented I daresay that the aforementioned facts speak for themselves. And they speak very loudly. Your offers of restitution and the convenient declaration of martial law only after His Majesty’s Embassy came under attack can plausibly be construed as nothing but a prevarication to curry favour with the United Kingdom and the international community. Salisbury paused and stooped low to inspect a small flower whose petals vibrated in a rich royal blue and a dazzling yellow. He stood once more and continued on in his even tone, unbroken despite the obviously rattled Ambassador. However, for the sake of peace His Majesty’s Government is willing to forgive such slights and move on from this juncture as a show of good faith and a true interest in resolving the differences between our two peoples.

The Ambassador took a moment to regain her clam before speaking again

I am sorry for the outburst…I should have known better... I do admit that my government needs to work on simplicity when its comes to these matters..It should be noted that the KLM government didn't allow the protestors to attack the embassy throughout the first and the riots, we station a number of police battalions during the first protest and prevent them from storming the embassy and during the riots we had a entire regiment plus a number of battalions of riot police station in the embassy section of the city..all to defend your embassy…yet its now written in stone and there is little for us to do over that matter.. Its best now to work on resolving those difference as you stated.

Her fatigue was began to show, with the outburst.

I agree wholeheartedly, Madame Ambassador, however, I think it in your government’s best interest to send for your transportation to your embassy. The Prime Minister made a quick motion with his hand and signaled for the Ambassador’s waiting limousine to be brought over to the two as they walked out of the garden. In your government’s absence, the United Kingdom has secured your embassy grounds and made sure no citizens intruded upon the grounds. If you’ll excuse me, Madame, it has been a pleasure and an honour. He held the door as the KLM envoy entered the limousine. With a smile and wave he watched the KLM envoy return to the embassy that the Khailfah had hastily evacuated what seemed like just yesterday. He returned to the limousine and found his Foreign Secretary waiting per his request.

How did it go, Your Lordship?

Salisbury smirked. I am reminded of an old colloquialism, American if I am not mistaken. If one cannot stand the heat, they ought to remove herself from the kitchen. Youth and vitality is but a poor substitute for experience and professionalism. Now I believe that Lord Rosecrans envoy shall be arriving not too shortly, am I correct?

Indeed, Prime Minister.

Thankfully we shall at least have someone capable of conducting actual diplomacy, Salisbury sighed from exasperation with his recently concluded business.
Ottoman Khaif
02-06-2006, 05:11
Shortly after the embassy staff returns to the KLM embassy of Oceania, they began a full sweep of the embassy grounds for any bugs or wire taps under the direct orders of the Ambassador. They the KLM embassy guards that were train in sweeping the rooms, manger to pick up most of the bugs and taps and disable most of them…all expect one that was located in the Ambassador office.
Hamptonshire
02-06-2006, 07:07
Royal Navy SST "Executive Delta", On approach to Imperium

Most government officials preferred to use one of the numerous and spacious jets provided by the Royal Air Force when called to travel. Luis Santiago, along with Princess Anne, was one of the few senior officials that elected to use the smaller, yet still luxurious, supersonic transports provided to the government by the Royal Navy. The SSTs lacked some of the amenities of their larger cousins but their speed and graceful (http://www.sti.nasa.gov/tto/spinoff1996/images/36.jpg) styling more than made up for any supposed drawbacks. Santiago specifically picked the SST because he wanted Lord Salisbury's first impression of a senior Hamptonian government minister to be as positive as possible. First impressions are everything, Hamptonian political philosopher Charles Allenby wrote in the nineteenth century, but be careful to only impress, not overwhelm.

"Attention please," a calm but authoritative voice, the pilot's, came over the plane's intercom, "we have begun our descent to Imperium. We should be landing in half an hour."

The plane's passengers found their seats and buckled themselves in. Santiago looked around the cabin and counted all the empty chairs. "We're really running on a skeleton crew, aren't we?" He whispered to Elizabeth Burke, his chief of staff. She turned to her boss and longtime friend and smiled, "We didn't exactly expect to be sent on a mission like this when we left Obsidia."

The plane began to slowly rock from side to side as it passed through the jet washes of several Oceanian jets. The gentle rocking remanded Luis of his brief time as a Royal Marine aboard a Royal Navy aircraft carrier. He focused back on that simpler time, remembering how exciting and difficult things were. He could almost smell the deep ocean. Those thoughts of years long since passed faded from his mind when Elizabeth handed him a paper outlining several recent developments. He took out a pair of silver framed eyeglasses from his jacket pocket and read the sheet. It mostly just said what he already knew: Some fronts were cooling down, others were heating up and new fronts were emerging in new nations. There was one paragraph, though, that offered some very useful information.

"The Princess was able to get McClellen's Imams to agree to this?" He said to his chief of staff without looking up from the paper.

"Nearly all of them, anyway. A few more of the more traditional ones asked for time to consult with their communities. The major point, though," Mrs. Burke paused to take a short breath, "is that enough Imams agreed so that any statement made will be issued in the name of the Muslim Council of McClellen."

The Minister's face immediately lit up. This was exactly the type of information that he wanted going into a meeting with the Oceanian Prime Minister. It was one thing for the governments of western democracies to decry and condemn violence and call for peace from all sides, it was quite another for such calls to be issued be an organization representing more than a billion Muslims. It was a personal coup for Princess Anne and would be an invaluable tool for Hamptonshire and Oceania, should it be used.

Santiago was about to whisper something to Burke when the pilot came back over the intercom "Attention please. We should be landing in fifteen minutes."

Looking out of the plane's window onto the landscape below Santiago gave the paper back to his aide. Smiling at the ground growing closer to him by the second, he said in a voice almost too soft to be heard "I guess Christmas is coming early to Oceania this year."


[OOC: Oceania, perhaps it would be best if we were to collaborate on some sort of joint post about at least the opening stage of the meeting. I think it might be better for the thread's flow than if we were to just continue going back and forth from post to post.]
Ottoman Khaif
03-06-2006, 02:50
Istanbul, House of Viziers( Close door meeting)

The House of Viziers was a oddly within an oddly with an oddly…sure it was the upper house of the Legislative Branch, yet the elections for the Viziers was quiet odd in a way compare to other nations…only Muslims were allow to vote for the Viziers, and only an Muslim may run for the post of Vizier. Do the fact that it was the job of the Vizier was to elect the next Khaif aka Sultan, if the current were to died or force to resign…and under Islamic Law, only Muslims may elect the next Khailfah , therefore only Muslims may run for the post of Vizier..since they are the elector of the Khailfah…they had the most powerful posts in the Imperial Government and are highly repected..yet there is always question about the Viziers, how long are their terms as Viziers….its commonplace for the Viziers to have new elections for their post every six to eight years, yet most of the time, the Viziers manger to keep their post for life. Most of the Viziers come from Arabia, Bilad al Sham (Greater Syria), Mesopotamia, Turkey, Kurdistan, Near East (Persia, and Turkistan), Egypt, North Africa (Libya, Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco) these regions made up the bulk of most the Viziers, then came the Viziers from the Balkans , West Africa, Southeast Asia, East Africa and India made up another quarter of the number of viziers, then came the Viziers from Eurasia, European Union and the other dominions. Yet the Cores regions of the Khailfah are Arabia, Bilad al Sham, Mesopotamia, Turkey, Kurdistan, Near East (Persia, and Turkistan), Egypt, North Africa made up roughly 60 percent of the seats in the House of Viziers…do the fact they were the core regions where most of the well known Imperial l houses came from.. Just setting who was really in control of the House of Viziers…. it was the well known families of the Khailfah that ran the policy and made new laws to protect the system. The House of Vizier was a place where great debate happens between the great minds of the Khailfah…and also it was a place where major speeches occurs… that often change the entire policy of the KLM, just by the words of simple speech.

Grand Vizier Mehmed Pasa Sokollu open the meeting of House of Viziers by stating the following

“Bismillah al-Rahman, al-Rahiim, this meeting of the House of Viziersis here by in session, lets any problems that to be address in the goals of further stabilize and just the making Dar al-Islam stronger in the end and just improving the lives of the peoples of Dar al-Ahd as the end result. The floor is open.”

Vizier Ibrahim ibn al-Walid bin Umayyad rose up from his seat and said the following “Permission to take the floor, Grand Vizier.”

The Grand Vizier nodded his head and say “ Abu al-Walid, you are by granted the floor.”

The 62 old years Vizier walked to the into podium and began his speech to the House of Viziers, all 600 Viziers watch one of the most senior viziers and most respected give his speech to them.

“Salaam, Vizier, of the House of Viziers, I address you, not as politicians, but the kin, as brothers of Islam. Today, I tell you that our beloved Khailfah faces a new threat from the east, nay this threat is not our found friends of China, it’s the reincarnation of the greatest rival of the Khailfah, we once thought their empire, had die off long ago. Nay, it has not, they are back as the United Kingdom of Oceania. No matter what we do to keep good terms with them, they will always want our lands. We must stand firm against them, ask yourselves do you want these Imperialist Neo-British to come and claims their old empire and take our homelands away from us, do want them to re-establish their rule in India and recreated the British Raj? Do you want them to take Malaysia or East Africa and even Egypt from us? Then what my people? Shall we allow them to enslave us and just force ourselves to bow at their feet, shall we allow them to disband our beloved Khailfah piece by piece, for the stake of their progress? NO my brothers, we shall not allow them to beat us and make ourselves their colonial under class in our own homelands, nay…. we will not allow this to happen!”

He pause for a moment to allow his words to sink in the minds of the Viziers

Gentlemen, we fought so hard to get to the point where we’re at today, we stood our ground during the red menace and neatly lost our nation, during that time. During the years of chaos, yet we fought ten long years from 1947 to 1957, ten long years of pain… our nation was left in ruins. Yet we came back with vengeance and we swore to ourselves, never again we’ll bow our heads in defeat to the outsider’s .Oh Viziers, we must not compromise our stance, for the stake of our state. Brothers, we face many great powers and face them off, we never back down then nor will we now. Viziers, today see the beginning of the split between the west and east, for too long we tried to be friendly with them…try to earn their respect, and this is how respect us? By publishing these depictions of Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him and they expect us to not care about it…no…we can’t just let it go…it’s a direct attack on our faith…and look now brothers…the westerners are now making a film…an erotic film…depicting the life of the Prophet, have they no shame…nay they don’t…they have no respect of us, nor will we have any respect for them..only a few of them have earn our respect, such as Malkyer, Sarzonia, Preatonia and some others…they are only few that have earn our respect and have show respect to us…Oh my brothers, the chain reaction is already in place, it will be only a matter of time before…relations between us and the bloody Neo-British degrade even further…listen to my warning…its will be only a matter of time, before they come after some long lost ex colony of theirs….its only a matter of time…to arms my people to arms….don’t fall back my people , don’t give them one inch…they will want more and more in till we’re nothing! They claims it’s a clash of Civilizations,so it is….we shall never bend or change our stances to appease them…. Sultan Mustafa al Asad say the following on the day when the years of Chaos finally came to an end. “TO HELL WITH IMPERIALISM, TO HELL WITH COMMUNSIM, TO HELL WITH NATIONALISM, TO HELL WITH CAPITALISM…TO HELL YOU ALL YOUR BLOODY DOGMAS, WE SHALL FOLLOW OUR OWN DOGMA.” And we still to this day, follow those powerfully words…for the stake of the state, remember my warning my people, sooner or later we will face our rivals of Oceania…no matter how hard we try to avoid it….LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS!”

Just the old Vizier ended his speech

All the Viziers rose up and clapped their hands for nearly two minutes, no one outside the House of Vizier heard the speech, since all meeting were closed door, just only the Viziers would hear it. Was Vizier Ibrahim ibn al-Walid bin Umayyad prediction of a future hostility between the KLM and Oceania, just a baseless warning or was it true…only time can tell.
Azazia
04-06-2006, 01:26
HMNB Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Oceania

Short but smooth, the fingers ran slowly over the heavy paper that had been folded and glued unto itself enclosing a finer and richer piece of paper. Where the exterior paper folded underneath itself a small circle of a soft red material held the entire construct together – pressed into the red glob was a small illustration, the seal of the Admiralty. Alan Eaton paused briefly before allowing his blue eyes to settle on the sharp blade he held in his right hand, the same sort of short and smooth fingers now wrapped around an ivory handle embedded with gem stones of bright blues and deep reds.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Eaton sliced open the top of the envelope, allowing the seal to remain intact. His fingers pried open the envelope and withdrew the letter inside, a letter his hands anxiously unfolded and his eyes quickly devoured. The man’s face slowly displayed a growing grin as his hopes had become true – in a manner of speaking. Throwing his gaze out the fourth-story window his eyes fell upon a sleek vessel, not the most massive in the UK’s second largest naval base, but one of immense firepower and armoured strength. Now the trimaran dreadnought would be his flagship as Commodore of the newly created 7th Indian Ocean Squadron, destined to set sail – according to the Admiralty – within 36 hours for the Royal Navy’s base in Avinapolis, where they would take on stores, ammunition, and find a waiting transport loaded with a unit of Royal Marines.

Dawesport, New Albion, Khailfah al Muslimeen

Since arriving at the conveniently exaggeratingly styled ‘international airport’ – only so because it offered flight to the Maldives – Henry Reynolds had found himself wandering the sweltering streets of what had once been an important naval stop for the British during the heyday of their globe-encompassing empire. Yet the city of some three million people impressed Reynolds for the sheer number of British-descendants that had not fled when the island nation received its independence in the late 1940s – a majority of the population which still flew the Union flag in front of their stores, beneath of course the flag of the Khailfah, the state that now exercised sovereignty over the island.

As Reynolds stared down at a free map he had plucked from a plastic bin at the airport, he found the plaza he needed around the corner at the end of the street he stood on, a street that appealed to him little. On the corner were containers for newspapers and trash and even a potted palm tree, which served as an alternate basket for refuse from the number of wrappers and cigarette butts that could be found mixed in with the soil. Finally, Reynolds found the corner he needed and around it the plaza, at the head of which stood a modest eight-story building atop which mounted a giant sign that read “Dawesport Press”.

Office of the Prime Minister, the Citadel
Imperium, New Britain

Lord Salisbury grimaced and placed his forehead within the tips of his fingers. At least three major fleet groups, Admiral?

Yes, Your Lordship. Admiral Lord Richard Atkinson had long been a friend and ally of the Prime Minister, having dispatched Royal Navy ships to escort the wanted man to safety in the colonies to avoid the merciless hunts of then King Andrew, now missing and presumed deceased. Now as First Sea Lord he headed the Royal Navy as the senior naval officer in the United Kingdom, second only to His Majesty King George, Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom. Additionally we anticipate the deployment of an unknown number of subsurface units, although again their disposition cannot be adequately ascertained without full knowledge of the RIS operation. Atkinson threw a sharp but cold look across the room to Sir Percival Cargill, the head of the Royal Intelligence Service, or RIS for short.

Cargill, a man in his fifties and somewhat large around the waist allowed himself a jovial smile that betrayed the contempt he held for the more senior Admiral who belittled his agency to improve the image of the Office of Royal Navy Intelligence, which had not been subsumed with most other intelligence agencies in the late 20th century into the new RIS. Unfortunately, Lord Atkinson, Operation Mercury remains of the utmost sensitivity and I am terribly afraid that I would rather not have anybody else be aware of the mission until its completion – which I anticipate being within at least two days, possibly as many as five. At this moment, Prime Minister, our assets are in place and the game is afoot.

Very good, Percival. Now, as for our other operation?

Ah, yes, we have one remaining asset in place and all data indicates it is operating within normal parameters.

Anything useful yet?

Cargill smirked, other than that the new ambassador enjoys playing the guitar – not yet, Your Lordship.

HMS Vanguard, Bay of Philadelphia

It had only taken Eaton 28 hours to ready his small squadron. Fortunately, weather had cooperated and the twelve ships had departed under the cover of clouds in the middle of the night, along with four submarines that had departed the day before. He had taken command of the HMS Vanguard, one of the newer dreadnoughts in the Royal Navy and designed to be an imposing figure on small forces or even just to provide heavy artillery for landed troops. And as he watched through binoculars the few dots of light moving slowly out to sea, he could only wonder why he was being deployed to the Indian Ocean.

Portorialto, New Albion, Khailfah al Muslimeen

They had been delivered unceremoniously enough: shipped via a truck down the main thoroughfare that linked north and south along the western coastline and then thrown onto a street corner in the pre-dawn hours. Portorialto had once been a Portuguese trading post, before being taken by the Dutch and then the English during the era of European imperialism. Unlike cities such as Dawesport to the north, however, Portorialto had never seen mass immigration of Englishmen to its urban areas – instead the natives pushed south by the English immigration to the north came to call Portorialto and other cities like it home. Yet, the northern half of the island continued to dominate the island’s economy and so it came as no surprise to anybody in particular that the Dawesport Press had come to dominate the local print media, even in southern cities like Portorialto.

As sunlight crept over the island, natives began to spend the few bits of currency they had earned the day before on their morning edition. For some time, the northerners had been well aware of the Oceanian cartoon row that had seemingly dominated world news – but there had been little press coverage of it in New Albion. But on this day, as the red light of the early morning sun illuminated the minarets that soared into Portorialto’s skyline, that would all change.

By noon, to the north in Dawesport, word had spread via amateur radio broadcast of wide scale looting and rioting in the south, a violent reaction to that day’s political cartoon in the Press, a reprinting of the Oceanian cartoon. Henry Reynolds sat inside an air-conditioned café, listening to the latest radio broadcast. Many in the small, but highly popular locale sat around Reynolds’ table entranced and enraged by reports that not only had mobs descended on government offices demanding action against what they called blasphemy, but about an unconfirmed report that in a small town outside of Portorialto Muslims had rounded up twenty seven people of English descent and beheaded them.

Proof lads, one of the older patrons cursed aloud. That is proof that these damn Muslimeens do not care one ounce about non-Muslims – leaving us to defend ourselves.

Aye, an outrage is what it is. An affront to our Western way of life! Another man shouted.

Reynolds nodded as a younger man added his own thoughts, not just a Western way of life, lads, but the British way of life.

Finally Reynolds summoned the courage to add his own thoughts. Then it is but a real shame that there is no British Empire left to avenge our brothers and sisters down south.

Silence then reigned in the café, although the radio continued to utter its static clad reports of the carnage in the south. Eventually the patrons raised their glasses and toasted the memory of the British Empire and the hope that someday soon their colleagues, peers, friends, and fellow Englishmen would be avenged.
Ottoman Khaif
04-06-2006, 03:55
Governor Residence, New Delhi, India, Khailfah al Muslimeen


Governor Barakat Qasim Husayn was very uneasy with the latest reports from New Albion, the riots and beheading of 30 Englishmen was very troubling for the Imperial Government. He had obtained a direct order from the Sultan himself to solve the situation and restore order to the Island and to arrest those behind the beheadings, in order to being justice to the region. He calls Chief Minister Kailash Mihammad Malik and Flag Rank General Mohammad Taqi-Khan Pesia, the overall commander of all KLM forces in the India region.

“Gentlemen, all we know the current situation in New Albion..I have direct orders from the Sultan to restore order at all cost….I have his authorization to mobilize the Island garrison of three Home Guard division and one reserve divisions, we must also deal with the criminals behind the beheadings …to being justice to those who have been wronged. “ Stated the Governor

“Well…bloody hell…that Island is nothing but a mere backwater for us and its causing all this trouble for us. Besides the its full of Indians and etc in the South and by.. Derange nationalist Brits…these not our loyal Anglo-Indians…these are the old diehards of the old British Empire….they will most likely give us hell over this….we must quickly restore order and arrest those bloody criminals..and also that Island is 50 percent Indian and etc and 50 percent British descent. and last cenus reports show its 50 milllion people living on it.” said Minister Kailash Mihammad Malik

“Since the Sultan, has given his authorization, I shall send the orders for those divisions to mobilize and to restore order to the region, at once…” said Flag Rank General Mohammad Taqi-Khan Pesi

“Good, this meeting is dismiss for now.” Ordered the Governor

The current garrison of New Albion

104th Reserved Division
20,000 men arm with XM8 Lightweight Assault Rifle and RPGs
100 Jaguar 2 Tank destroyer [with TOW]
100-2S6M Tunguska Anti-Aircraft Artillery
20 The PzH 2000 155mm self propelled howitzer
80 Type 98 main battle tank
100 BMP-4(Troop transport)
20 G5: 155mm towed gun Howitzer

100th Home Guard Division
20,000 men arm with AK-105 and RPGs
200 HMMWV( transport)
100 BMP-4(Troop transport)
20 G5: 155mm towed gun Howitzer

114th Home Guard Division
20,000 men arm with AK-105 and RPGs
200 HMMWV( transport)
100 BMP-4(Troop transport)
20 G5: 155mm towed gun Howitzer

60,000 Troops in total

Plus
40 Ka-52 HOKUM B / Alligator Attack Helicopter
60 MI-28A/N HAVOC ATTACK HELICOPTER

Plus Air Force

100 MIG-35 FULCRUMS

4 E-3C Sentry
Azazia
04-06-2006, 15:14
Dawesport, New Albion, Khailfah al Muslimeen

With bright reds and cool violets the sun had long since set into the Indian Ocean to the west and now through slatted windows shielding a small pub from the torrential downpour that shook the wooden windows and scrambled the faint television broadcast the establishment depended on for evening entertainment.

Reynolds sat slumped over a table, a mug of beer in his right hand, his forehead pressed against his left forearm. After some time he raised his head and his mug, took a large gulp from the latter, then let both fall back down to the table. The loud thud echoed across the establishment, drawing the attention of a middle-aged man whose brown hair rest atop his head in an unappealing fashion, but not one that any would find offensive. The brown-eyed gentleman walked over to the dejected Reynolds, who lifted his head to spy the man walking over in a brown two-piece suit. What do you want? Reynolds slurred through his drunken stupor.

What seems to have you down, chap? If, of course, you should pardon my intrusion.

This whole bloody mess, Reynolds replied, waving his arms around for no apparent reason – to either man actually. You have the whole damn south of this country killing us English simply because we believe in free speech – ludicrous I tell you.

Indeed it is, but at the moment there is not a whole lot we can do about the situation other than to hold our chins up high and hope the Muslimeen government can do something for a change. The latest news from Delhi is that Governor Husayn is mobilizing the island’s garrisons to head down south and take charge of the situation.

But it’s not the same, Reynolds moaned.

The suited man raised an eyebrow, the same as what?

The olden days, when we had nothing to fear from uncivilised louts, when we always had them at our back.

When we had who at our back?

The Crown, Reynolds sighed, clearly exasperated.

The suited man finally understood what the drunken man had been ranting about. Unfortunately the Empire crumbled decades ago and now London cares not about our worries and even our plight. We depend on the KLM for support and even retribution.

But why? For heaven’s sake why? They are not any better than the inbreeds in the south. Reynolds smiled, as if he had realised something of true import. In fact, I guarantee you that they shall ally themselves with the damn roaches and drive us off the island! We need help, we do, we do. We need a new empire to save us.

The sober man straightened his suit and shook his head at the lot of the man slumped over before him. He remembered the drunk from the moment he had arrived, he already been well on his way to his current state – but had looked up and when their eyes met the half-drunken man seemed clearly lucid in a most peculiar way. Nevertheless, in a broad sense he felt responsible for the sad man and so he placed his hand upon the man’s shoulder. Well, sir, I am George Mason, the unofficial Governor of New Albion and should you need anything—

I need justice to be served, Reynolds mumbled.

Unfortunately, we must await the mobilisation of the Khailfah’s troops and perhaps then we shall have the justice we both seek.

Why?

Why what?

Why the KLM?

Mason shook his head, not understanding the man. What do you mean, ‘why the KLM’?

I mean why not another empire, one that respects us and honours us for who we are?

Again Mason felt confused and with a cocked head looked at the drunk. What do you mean another empire?

An empire that would be at our backs. So Britain is gone, but I hear there is a New Britain. A New Britain willing to defend her people at any cost. Why not the New British Empire?

What are you prattling on about now, sir?

Look to the east, no longer the west. There you will see this new empire, an empire that will defend us. All hail Oceania…

Mason watched the man trail off before apparently passing out on the table. Nevertheless, he had said something of interest to Mason. Turning back to the television, one that only captured local, island-wide broadcasts, he saw that English-killing had become a new sport in the south, two English families had been slaughtered in Patanblanco – and yet KLM troops had only just been promised. They were failing to protect the English across the island.

Finally, the unofficial governor turned to the bartender and placed an old British five pound note on the counter. You leaving this early, sir? The bartender quickly inquired, his hands occupied with a dirty glass.

Indeed I am, Robert. I need to go read up on something.

As Mason walked quietly out of the bar, opening his umbrella as he stepped onto the stoop, the drunken Reynolds suddenly raised his head. He looked out the shutting door and found Mason crossing the street. About bloody time you got the hint, he muttered, before waving a slender little waitress over to his table.
Ottoman Khaif
04-06-2006, 19:30
The Sultan Office, Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

The Sultan was very upset with the latest reports coming out of New Albion, he order an video conference with the Regional Governor of India to discuss recent events..

“Salaam, Governor Barakat Qasim Husayn…recent events have force me to call this meeting with you…I’ll be frank with you, sir….you have three days to being the situation under control or I’ll step in and send in more Imperial Troops and etc to solve the bloody situation... is that understood Governor?” said the Sultan

The Governor was uneasy with recent events and now the Sultan was on his case

“Yes, my Sultan…I shall the situation under control within that time period…I have already order the regional garrison to mobilize and quell the riots..just give them a day or so. To being it under control, I assure you my Sultan….everything will be taken care of.” Said the Governor

The Sultan took a deep breath and spoke

“Good then…also Governor…I have order the AMI and SIA to send a number of their agents to the region to investigate some unusually things in the Island… you are order to help them in their investigate, give them whatever items they may need, is that understood?”

“ It is understood, my Sultan.” Reply the Governor

“ Also Governor, one last thing..if this situation is explodes into something far worse….you will lose your post..That is all.” Said the Sultan

and just the Video Conference was over and just leaving the Governor in a state of shock. He thought to himself…he must not fail at all cost.
Malkyer
05-06-2006, 02:53
In a press release from the Ministry of Defense, it was announced earlier this week that an agreement has been reached with the Khailfah al Musilmeen which will allow Khailfah ships to use Malkyeri ports in the Australian Viceroyalty for repairs, provisioning, and fueling. In exchange, the Khailfah has granted permission for the Imperial Commonwealth to construct three naval bases within Khailfah territory for use by the Royal Navy. These three bases are the first major permanent stationings of Royal Navy vessels outside of the Imperial Commonwealth.

While it is believed that the agreement stems from the recent tensions between the Khailfah al Musilmeen and the United Kingdom of Oceania, His Majesty's Government has issued no statement either confirming or denying such rumors.

Force Deployments at Naval Bases:

Pondicherry Naval Base (India)
Carrier Battle Group (CVBG)
2 House class CVAN [Fleet Carriers]-HMS Columbia, San Fransisco
Bastion class BBGN [Battleship, 2nd Class]-HMS Invincible
2 Duchy class CAG [Heavy Cruiser]-HMS Fervent, Santiago
5 County class DDG (AD)
5 City class DDG (GP)
10 Furtive class FFH
4 Forthar class SSN
Lem class AFS
5 Smith class AOE
Aylesburgh class AS

Goa Naval Base (India)
Surface Battle Group (SBG)
4 Bastion class BBGN [Battleship]-HMS Indomitable, Diligent, Vanguard, Adamant
2 Duchy class CAG [Heavy Cruiser]-HMS Conqueror, Stalwart
4 Province class CG [Cruiser]-HMS St. Luke, Danjou, Swordfish, Mako
6 County class DDG (AD)
6 City class DDG (GP)
12 Furtive class FFH
6 Port class SSGN
6 Forthar class SSN
2 Lem class AFS
5 Smith class AOE
2 Aylesburgh class AS

Dakar Naval Base (West Africa)
Expeditionary Force Group (EFG)
2 Crocodile class LCS
Lord class LHD
Ungforth class LPD
Valley class LSD
Charter class BBGN [Battleship, 2nd Class]-HMS Centurion
Duchy class CAG [Heavy Cruiser]-HMS Southern Cross
2 Province class CG [Cruiser]-HMS St. Andrew, Martin
4 County class DDG (AD)
4 City class DDG (GP)
8 Furtive class FFH
4 Forthar class SSGN
2 Stortbek 'B' class SSF
Lem class AFS
5 Smith class AOE
Aylesburgh class AS

Each naval base will also be the operating base of a division of Royal Marines, and several squadrons of the Royal Naval Air Wing.
Ottoman Khaif
08-06-2006, 02:39
Istanbul, Khailfah al Muslimeen

It midday in Istanbul, the arm forces still present in the streets of the city, although for the past week or so, the arm forces slowly withdrawing back to their bases, regiment by regiment and life was slowly returning normal for the city overall.


At the Gates of the Sultan Palace

The Imperial Black Guards were always posted at the old gates of the Palace, keeping watch 24/7. They were always eight guards posted at the gates to check the visitors and allow cars to enter and etc the Palace grounds. The guards were always dress in their black uniforms, always keeping watch and were emotionless while on duty; it was due to their discipline and Imperial conditioning….

Two men walk up to the head Guard on duty, these two were a paradox at first sight, the first man wearing a all black suit with black button up shirt with a white tie. He was of mix Middle Eastern Background, his skin was very light, yet had appear that this person has been out in the sun for quite some time just making his skin lightly tanned. The age of this man, could not to exact, it had to be speculation to be around 50 years old. He was simply known as the notorious Faruq al Mafee bin Hāni. The second man was dress in a plain black business suit with a black tie, he was of English background, he was about 63 years old, he was the infamous retired AMI Fifth Chief Directorate heard, it was Dr. James Maxwell ( http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Ottoman01/Malcom.gif), otherwise known as the Sultan Uncle, on the Sultan mother side.

The three didn’t exchange any remarks, the Head Guard simply smiled and said “ The Sultan is expecting you, gentlemen…” and he nodded his head to the other guards, and just the gates were opened and two men simply walked into the grounds of the Palace and on their way to the Sultan Office. As they walked thought the main gardens, Faruq broken silence by saying

“So Maxwell…how you like that suit I tailored for you..” ask Faruq

Maxwell simply looks at Faruq and said “Blast you Faruq…your didn’t say a single word when we first met up at the front of my house, up the street from here….and now you finally said something…blast ye….its like the good old days…you should have told me that your playing that old mind game of don’t say a word…I still remember back in the good old day, when the AMI was known as OI, when we didn’t say a single word for one week during 1980….and I lost…by saying Damn it…when I drop my coffee cup…I was about win…damn it…just two minutes away from it..bah…you should have told me that you were playing this once again.” Remarked Maxwell

Faruq simply grin and reply “ I wanted to see how long it would take you..old friend to realize I was playing the good old game…and I had to break the silence, since it would have happen you forever to realize that I was playing it, you old bat!”

“Bah, I would have realize that you playing this game once again..you blasted loon.” Remark Maxwell


“Well its not fun, telling everything…its more enjoyable to allow people to guess and figure it out on their own then to give them any answers or even a hint.” Reply Faruq

“How…bloody true..and its coming from master of half truths and lies…..bloody hell.. That’s insane if I must say so..and that’s from coming the resident loon of the KLM or one of the many loons of KLM ” remarked Maxwell

Has they walked thought the rose garden on their way to main entrance to the Palace itself, they ran into a young women who was about 18 years old, she was wearing black hajib, with a blue button up long shelve shirt with a black dress pants.She was Fatima Bin Bashir, the eldest daughter of the Sultan; she looked very much like her mother Sophia, she was very attentive and smart for her age. When she saw the two men, she smiled and she give a hung to her grand uncle( Maxwell) and then began to speak

“Grand Uncle Maxwell, its good to see you…Mister Hāni its good to see, once again…your fashion designs is amazing.”

“Thank you, kindly my dear.” Reply Faruq

“Its good to see you, my dear..hows your mother and brothers and sisters?” asked Maxwell

“Their all well and etc.” She reply

“Good good…so your off now to Istanbul State University, what major? Since your done with High School and etc.” ask Maxwell

“Yes, I am…I am doing a Business management major and yes…I so happy that I am done with blast high school and all that special rewards and with graduation are over. I can now forward for University…I must go..I have dentist appointment today and can’t be late…see you later, Uncle and Mister Hāni” and just she walk off

“Its good to know…that they only know me as that tailor…just plain humble Faruq..” remarked Faruq

“Bah…oh quite your loon Faruq…today an tailor… and yesterday an ex AMI Political Commissar… what’s next for you?” asked Maxwell

Faruq just smiled and reply

“I am a man of many faces….we’ll see what’s next for me…old friend.”


Then they just walk into the Palace and headed to the Sultan Office, and were allowed to enter the room. Sultan was busy with paperwork and without looking up, he say in British Accent “ Gentlemen, please be seated. Help yourself to some tea.”

“ Don’t if I do.” Remarked Faruq

“A classic remark from Faruq…. the man of many faces…as he put it.” Remarked Maxwell

“ Apparently so…” replied Faruq

“ You two never stop don’t you?” ask the Sultan

They both replied at the same time “ Nope.”

The Sultan eyebrow rose up…and just shakes his head

“Now, gentlemen..the reason I call you here…well how to put in straightforward terminology.. current events in New Albion is causing a great stir within the Imperial Government…hell…I just yell at the bloody governor of India to take of it…and I have the feeling that someone is cause the unrest in that region..for a odd region..sure our relationship with those nationalist British locals in the northern half of Island is mostly cold…but stable for the most part…but now there is major unrest between the local Indians and the overzealous British…. I can’t shake off the feeling that …the Neo Brits are behind this mess….yet I have no proof of this…so I have send a number of SIA and AMI agents to investigate the unrest..” said the Sultan

“Gah….New Albion…..that’s a bloody backwater…half full of derange die hard Imperialist Brits…I been there quite few times during my time in the then OI and now AMI…..I always ended up getting in fist fights with the local Imperial Brits…..stuck in the bloody pass if I must say so… anyways…you suspect the blast Oceanians of stirring up trouble in this Island.. it is a ideal place to do a such a thing…you have roughly half the people on that Island, is made up of die hard nationalist Brits…leftovers from the zenith of the British Empire..and look at its location in the Indian Ocean..its an ideal place to take from the KLM…to us its backwater outpost to them a key base for them in Indian Ocean….since see themselves as the reborn of the British Empire…its fits their mission….bloody hell…they are acting like the old Empire…doing many underhanded things to get to their goals…Its makes me sick….and its one of the many reasons , I resign my post in MI6 back in the late 1960s…so many years ago…to think I work for Her Majestic Secret Service for that time…working as the person behind the scenes…plotting coups against Just governments…all to help NATO in her Cold War against the USSR and the Warsaw Pact…I couldn’t take it anymore. Just I left and join the then OI in the 1970s…but my life is complex and full of paradoxs…meh back to the Point…the odds of the Oceanians being behind this is very high…what do you expect…they are British Imperials…they will do many underhanded things like this to get what they want.” Remarked Maxwell


“What Maxwell said…petty much states its..the most likely people behind are those infuriating Oceanians…and yes that Island is ideal for them..just look at the British nationals in New Albion compare to the 160 million Anglo-Indians and 250 million Eurasians living thought out the Khailfah itself not including her dominions…so what is the main difference between them and the British nationals?…the Answer is simple, the Anglo-Indians and Eurasians are loyal subjects and accepted our rule…and these British nationals…they merely follow our rules and etc…but they never accept it…they still hold on to their past..and now they see it has their best hope….thanks to the riots…besides I had my run-ins with these kinds of people, during my travels in self impose exile….they are all stuck in the bloody past…a past they hold so dear.. Such idiotic people… “ Stated Faruq

“Thank you, gentlemen…your opinions have reinforce that feeling I have that Oceanians are behind this…but one thing I must ask..that I been meaning to ask your…oh Faruq….why did you leave the Imperial Army back in 1998 and didn’t come back in till mid 2005? Ask the Sultan

Faruq smile and say the following “I been asked that questions so many times, since my return.. why did I leave in self impose exile…the reasons why I did…I shall never completely answer that…yet I would say this …I stuff from the same thing that we all stuff from..who has fought in the name of the Imperium in war ..Knows what I am talking about…its only effects those of the intelligences and arm forces…by any means necessary…it all effects us to lesser degree in most cases or to an major degree in other cases…well for my case…I had to leave and rebuild my mind…I need a break…for a while…that’s all you need to know.”

“Dear lord, the infamous Faruq…actually give us a straight answer.. this is a bloody first!” remarked Maxwell

“This is a truly a first…has Faruq…truly changed and told us a complete answer…that’s insane..” remark the Sultan

Faruq smile and reply” Now when did I say that was the compete story…that’s just one of the many reasons why I left for that time period… do you truly expect me…to say a compete answer..bah…now that’s nonsense …I only tell lies , half truths.. and implicit answers… maybe one of these days….I’ll give the entire story behind why…in till then I’ll keep you guys guessing why..its fun that way.Gentlemen…besides KLM is full of walking and talking paradoxs its fun that way and we should keep it that way.. now excuse gentlemn…I must go, I have some appointments coming to my shop for new tailor suits…and maybe I might see another country agent coming in my shop…to seek answers from me….and only to be take away by High Guard or SIA or AMI agents the moment they walk out..”

“Wait..the Intell agencies keep watch over your shop, at all times?” ask the Sultan, and he looked at Maxwell

“Of course…just look at Faruq…its plain dumb not to..” remarked Maxwell

“ See my point…now I bid a adieu and take my leave…another time, Gentlemen.” Said Faruq and left the Sultan office, shortly after Maxwell left too.
Azazia
09-06-2006, 17:56
ooc: owing to the fact this thread has begun to stray from the original intent I have moved the new evolution of the story into a separate thread to be found here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=486786). All that posted here are of couse welcome to post there just please read the little ooc disclaimer at the beginning of that thread should you wish to contribute.