NationStates Jolt Archive

An almost deafening cheer filled the city of Tomsk. Whether the people were joyful about the union or the roll of five $20 bills in each of their pockets, they were definitely letting it all out for the cameras. News crews from across the region had gathered to get the best snapshot and most controversial interviews, with each crew receiving a generous donation from Koryan authorities as well. The entire operation was very expensive for the Republic but this was seen merely as a high-risk investment. This land held coal, oil, natural gas, peat, ore, and much more just waiting to be brought to the surface and shipped across the world. That wasn’t even the best part – Tomsk was just the first domino in a short but golden chain reaction determined to spread Koryan influence throughout the region. First the Persian Gulf, then Southern India, and now Russia – the Republic wasn’t content with being a minor player on the world stage. Koryan would be among the world powers and its only obstacle was time.

Under the Agreement of Union that the Tomsk Parliament had ratified just hours earlier, the Tomsk Oblast was now a client state of Koryan. This meant that, while not an actual province, Tomsk would receive Koryan protection, its citizens would become Koryan citizens, and a large amount of money would be invested from the Koryan Treasury over a five-year period to stamp out poverty, increase minimum wage, improve infrastructure, and shrink crime rates. In return, Tomsk would become bound to the Republic of Koryan, unable to leave the union without approval of the Koryan Consuls and unable to become a real province without the approval of the Koryan Senate.

The next week came and went with the only changes being the appearance of Koryan Flags across the oblast. But by the end of the month, the heavy equipment began appearing on the outskirts of the major cities. Brand new roads were paved across the state, followed by brand new business offices and air ports. Schools were renovated and new ones appeared in placed of run-down ones. The lower-class areas were leveled and replaced with apartments and duplexes. New public pools and parks were erected in every city and a welfare system was resurrected. Water recycling systems were replaced with the most up-to-date versions and sewer systems were completely renovated. The biggest changes came in the economic sectors. The oblast mines were given the most up-to-date equipment and machinery. Oil wells appeared across the hill-tops and farmers were showered with government donations and high tech farming equipment. Local banks vanished and were replaced with high-tech Koryan Banks that stayed open 24 hours a day and could hand out gracious loans. Not far from them, super markets and mega-malls were erected with items from across the world. As snow settled on Tomsk, soup kitchens and shelters for homeless sprung up in every city while giant snow plows had every street clear by sunrise and rush hour. To the citizens of Tomsk, they were being catapulted into the world of tomorrow. And they loved it.

However, all was not well in the rest of the region. Citizens of other states looked upon their Tomsk brothers with jealousy and greed. They demanded that their own governments do what Koryan did but they couldn’t. They lacked the manpower and resources of the Republic, not to mention the cash. Those that even attempted to match the changes of Tomsk quickly went bankrupt and fell under harsh criticism from other politicians for being “Koryan-wannabes”. This building tension finally came unglued when, on November 15th, the Republic of Koryan announced that it would be accepting other areas as client states. A giant rift opened between those who wanted to join with Koryan and those who wanted independence. Even religious leaders entered the fray, claiming that Koryan was trying to lead the Russian people astray with materialism. However, the winds of change had already begun to blow.

The first actual protests erupted in the Sverdlovsk Oblast. Pro-Koryan protestors had surrounded the capital building and marched for nearly two hours before the demonstration was broken up by law enforcement. More quickly followed, accompanied by over-publicized Koryan pressure on the oblast governments. On November 30th, controversy spread throughout the region as pro-Koryans aired a three minute video calling the Sverdlovsk Government corrupt and tyrannical because it refused to listen to the demands of its people. The video was quickly censored in Sverdlovsk after less than an hour of circulation but the damage had already been done. Gossip spread between neighbors and then neighborhoods and then entire cities. Those that hadn’t seen the tape heard every detail of it and they were quick to tell others. Within twenty-four hours, every man, woman, and child knew and they weren’t about to forget.

Yekaterinburg, Sverdlovsk

Darkness hid the six Militsiya officers as they took up positions in front of the house. Major Aleksey waited until everyone was settled and then let a single word fall from his lips: “Ready?” It was too dark to see his comrades’ faces so he assumed they were all nodding. He tapped the doorbell button with his left hand and then backed away from the door. Seconds later, access was granted by a young man in sweats. He was thanked with the butt of an AK-74 to the face and was then tackled and cuffed by one of the officers. The other five law enforcers stormed the house, taking the place room-by-room. Within minutes, three more family members were on the floor in hand cuffs and a crying child was being escorted to his detained mother. The entire sweep had ended without bloodshed and the suspects, two brothers responsible for the treacherous video, were in custody.

Four Hours Later

Aleksey hadn’t been able to sleep a wink and now he sat in a café, sipping coffee and picking through his breakfast. The major had never been here so early and the quiet felt odd. Being five o’clock in the morning, there were actually more employees than there were customers and most of the waitresses were sipping coffee to get woken up. The only silence-breaker was the TV in the northwest corner, reciting the morning news. The weatherman happily announced more snow was coming to the area, prompting a short café-wide conversation between the older customers about who hated winter the most. The major attempted to tune them out, not really in the best mood.

Just feet from Aleksey sat Dimitri Ligachevsipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. An ad about a red, Japanese sports car had caught his eye and he imagined dropping off the cash for the vehicle and driving it off the showroom floor. His daydream was interrupted as he heard someone sit down across from him. Folding the newspaper and sitting it on the corner of the table, he studied the face of the Arab man and smiled.

“Long time no see, Dimitri. Read any interesting articles?” The stranger greeted as he brushed a tiny blue ball of fuzz off his right sleeve. Dimitri shook his head.

“Not unless you’re following this whole revolution fiasco.” The Russian mocked, drawing a smile from the Arab’s lips. The two watched each other for a moment before continuing.

“So does this mean you’re getting cold feet about our deal?”

Dimitri let out a little chuckle. “Nothing a little extra cash wouldn’t fix.” The Arab shook his head at hearing this. He knew that this was coming.

“All you do is demand more money but you haven’t even started your work.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” The Russian challenged.

“Do you really think the Republic would hand out money and just hope you are doing what you promised? We have agents watching you every time you drive to the store or walk your dog. We monitor every call you make and record every person you talk to.”

“Glad to see I have admirers.” Dimitri joked as he stirred more cream into his coffee. He took a nice taste before picking his newspaper back up.

“So?”

“So what?”

“So are you going to do it?”

Dimitri waited a bit, as if drinking in every moment of the foreigner’s anticipation. “Yeah, but I want this car.” He spun the newspaper around so the Arab could see the picture of the sports car.

“Done.” The Arab stood up to leave. After two steps, he turned back to Dimitri. “But I want something in exchange.” He reached into his pocket and pull out a small tab of sticky notes along with a black pen. He scribbled in crude Russian and stuck the sticky note to the edge of the table. With a nod, he walked out of the café. Dimitri plucked the note from the table and read it: ‘Brunswick File May 1998'. This was great. Stealing this police file would just create another opportunity for disaster. Folding the note in half and shoving it into his pocket, Dimitri stepped up to the counter and paid his bill, leaving a tip for his cute waitress. As he turned to leave, he exchanged fake smiles with Major Aleksey. Little did either know that by the end of the week, these two strangers would be on the opposite ends of a smoking pistol.