Nova Boozia
04-06-2006, 09:07
Ein Schulsserfolg Haupt,
Die Trommeln klangen,
Ihr Knurren entrank durch die Töne des Kampf!
Die General sagt,
"Zum Brucht meine Männer!,
Die Gewheren des Fiendes werdern verdammt!"
Contemporary Boozian poem on the battle of Carlusberg
Boozia had defeated Carlusia. Everyone knew that, before they knew what Carlusia even was. Schnapsemarschall Schmaldt's troops had gone into the breach, and fought, and won. Carlusia had been burned, looted, and turned into four new provinces, six of the nine wehrkreis. "God-Emperor" Carlus had been shot through the chest by a lost, confused soldier by the name of Gefreiter Schirp. It was Boozia's Trafalgar, its Gettysburg. Carlusite elements had been rooted out and smashed. The modern Hallget regime had killed every last one. Everyone knew that...
"Are you entirely sure this'll work?"
Hans glanced around at the street. With the homecoming party for Second Fleet just starting to simmer down, sailors being dragged back to their ships by marines seemed to emerge from every street corner.
"Probably. They could of done it after the fleet left, though."
"Well, no-one knew they were going away so soon, did they?"
"Our families still get compensated, right?"
"If we win."
"If we win..."
The truck that the duo were driving bore the gun, quill, and anchor logo of the Marineansalt, the two-thirds of the navy that handled everything that the Kriegsmarine didn't. And since the Kriegsmarine's responsibilities consisted entirely of the many varieties of shooting the other guy, the logistical machine that kept it ticking had to take up plenty of slack.
As such, no civilian in a port which was home to several fleets would be unfamiliar with the van. But sailors new perfectly well where they did and didn't go. Admittedly, the sailors were drunk and seeing as a fleet was launching, all sorts of preparations would have to be made. But some people are just too nosy for their own good...
"Where are you going?"
The van didn't stop.
"I'm a Senior Chief. There's a nine in ten chance I outrank you!"
The little van kept going, and the sailor ran after it, yelling for marines.
A section rounded the corner and drew their weapons. One had a SAW.
"Halt now or I will..."
The world was full of fire and screams.
"Well isn't that just peachy! All this conflict, all these Kraven wars, and now this! You're absolutely sure they were Carlusite?"
"Yes, sir. Absolutely. That, or they were trying to make us believe they were, but the clues we have found pointing to them look like the work of amateur terrorists, not professional deceivers."
"Well, I declare this a state emergency. The Generals of the Wehrkreis have legal powers of enforcement until this is over. If it gets really bad, we'll have to enforce a curfew, but there's no point causing undue panic. And put Bastion on full alert."
"Bastion? You think they have WMDs?"
"It's definitely something we can't rule out of this equation."
"Shall I put out a request for aid?"
"Not overtly. But make sure this incident is well recorded. No blackline, no nothing. And put the history of the Carlus-Boozian conflict up on Wikipedia or similar. But try to downplay what happened after we captured their cities. We're supposed to be the good guys, after all."
Die Trommeln klangen,
Ihr Knurren entrank durch die Töne des Kampf!
Die General sagt,
"Zum Brucht meine Männer!,
Die Gewheren des Fiendes werdern verdammt!"
Contemporary Boozian poem on the battle of Carlusberg
Boozia had defeated Carlusia. Everyone knew that, before they knew what Carlusia even was. Schnapsemarschall Schmaldt's troops had gone into the breach, and fought, and won. Carlusia had been burned, looted, and turned into four new provinces, six of the nine wehrkreis. "God-Emperor" Carlus had been shot through the chest by a lost, confused soldier by the name of Gefreiter Schirp. It was Boozia's Trafalgar, its Gettysburg. Carlusite elements had been rooted out and smashed. The modern Hallget regime had killed every last one. Everyone knew that...
"Are you entirely sure this'll work?"
Hans glanced around at the street. With the homecoming party for Second Fleet just starting to simmer down, sailors being dragged back to their ships by marines seemed to emerge from every street corner.
"Probably. They could of done it after the fleet left, though."
"Well, no-one knew they were going away so soon, did they?"
"Our families still get compensated, right?"
"If we win."
"If we win..."
The truck that the duo were driving bore the gun, quill, and anchor logo of the Marineansalt, the two-thirds of the navy that handled everything that the Kriegsmarine didn't. And since the Kriegsmarine's responsibilities consisted entirely of the many varieties of shooting the other guy, the logistical machine that kept it ticking had to take up plenty of slack.
As such, no civilian in a port which was home to several fleets would be unfamiliar with the van. But sailors new perfectly well where they did and didn't go. Admittedly, the sailors were drunk and seeing as a fleet was launching, all sorts of preparations would have to be made. But some people are just too nosy for their own good...
"Where are you going?"
The van didn't stop.
"I'm a Senior Chief. There's a nine in ten chance I outrank you!"
The little van kept going, and the sailor ran after it, yelling for marines.
A section rounded the corner and drew their weapons. One had a SAW.
"Halt now or I will..."
The world was full of fire and screams.
"Well isn't that just peachy! All this conflict, all these Kraven wars, and now this! You're absolutely sure they were Carlusite?"
"Yes, sir. Absolutely. That, or they were trying to make us believe they were, but the clues we have found pointing to them look like the work of amateur terrorists, not professional deceivers."
"Well, I declare this a state emergency. The Generals of the Wehrkreis have legal powers of enforcement until this is over. If it gets really bad, we'll have to enforce a curfew, but there's no point causing undue panic. And put Bastion on full alert."
"Bastion? You think they have WMDs?"
"It's definitely something we can't rule out of this equation."
"Shall I put out a request for aid?"
"Not overtly. But make sure this incident is well recorded. No blackline, no nothing. And put the history of the Carlus-Boozian conflict up on Wikipedia or similar. But try to downplay what happened after we captured their cities. We're supposed to be the good guys, after all."