NationStates Jolt Archive

New Christendom,
The Republic

Another sip of the white tea didn’t help to improve its taste, not at all. The tea cup was a stark contrast to tea itself. While the tea was bitter and generally tasteless, the cup was elegant and simple – being white with blue letters spelling something out in a language he couldn’t understand. He sighed while setting the cup down and noticed the waitress had taken an eye to his discontent, glaring at him as if he’d said something vulgar to her. The proper thing to do would be to loosen his grimaced face, take another sip and smile, but he believed in honesty. Ignoring the annoyed waitress he picked up his newspaper entitled, “The Taikyuu Voice” and continued to glance over various articles. None of the articles spoke positive. One was obviously written by an atheist, who was discontent living in a religious country, and instead of simply moving away he chose to slam the Riyabuo Administration for its oppression of non-religious people. Another spoke about how Jagada’s future was grim and hopeless, the author spoke about how the Ripaburikku barley survived the War of Golden Succession by bowing out when it did, he or she, since a name wasn’t given from what he saw, claimed that the Highest Minister was signing Jagada’s death warrant and ensuring it became a puppet-state to the Golden Throne. The rest of the newspaper wasn’t much better, filled with doom and gloom, with religious murders and with constant government scandals. The only enlightening and positive piece of information he got was the weather, and even it was bleak with a fifty or more percent chance of showers. Setting the paper down, he concluded that at least riots weren’t going on outside and thus chalked this up as his lucky day.

He set down an icon and fifty cents worth of coins. He left the paper behind due to its depressing nature and walked out of the tea shop. As he did, he heard the waitress he’d offended growl something that was similar to goodbye. Ignoring her again he walked out of the shop and into the heavily crowded sidewalks of the city. Pushing his way threw, unfortunately he pushed in the direction with the most resistance, he headed down 55th Street towards a four story building, it architecture wasn’t anything to be proud of and seemed more improvised than thought out. It was square, again adding to the dullness of it, with concrete that was white and windows covering nearly the entire outside, barley giving a foot of distance around them. Congested was the first word that popped into his mind every time he saw the building, and he saw it constantly since this was where he worked, day in and day out. As representative of District 3B within Taikyuu City his job was straight forward, but never simplistic. He opened the glass door which was the only entrance into the building, save a backdoor, and felt cool air rush over him, it wasn’t necessary because it was already cool outside, and he immediately wondered who’d set the temperature so low. The interior of the government building was just a dull, pure white and resembled a hospital more than a building for government.

“Good morning Hitomi-san,” whispered the lobby secretary as he walked by, wanting to keep her voice low as if this were a hospital. He merely waved as he walked by and down the white halls. His office was the fourth to last door on the left, and it’d been that way for nearly three years now. The closer he came to his office, though, the more a figure began to flesh out next to the door. He paused momentarily to think weather or not he’d arranged and appointment for earlier that day. He shook his head; he would have remembered something like that. When he came within ten yards of the figure, who now had his back towards him he paused again.
“Can I help you, sir?” said coldly, not sure who this was or why he stood outside of his office. The figure, which was wearing a light brown suit jacket and equally colorful slacks, spun around in surprise. All of his fears subsided when he realized who this figure was – Hiroshi Munakata.

“Ah,” he exclaimed, being caught off guard, Hiroshi quickly conformed himself and bowed, “Sorry Hitomi-kun.” Neither men were extremely young, while he bordered on a forty, Hiroshi was already forty-five and dogmatically shoving his way up in years.

Masa Hitomi, his full name, bowed in return, a little surprised to see a councilmen here in his office, “There is nothing to apologize for Munakata-sama.”

“Do you have a moment?” asked Hiroshi, eyeing the office door.

“Of course,” replied Masa. As they entered his office he felt a little embarrassed, while well lit it was very messy with stacks of paper on his desk, furniture covered in similar paper stacks. Nothing was in the floor, thank God. Masa took a seat behind his desk and motioned for Hiroshi to take a seat in the comfortable chair on the other side.

“Any thing I can offer you Munakata-sama?” asked Masa.

Hiroshi waved his hand, “No thank you. I ate before coming.”

Masa nodded and after a few moments of tense silence, “So, what can I help you with?”

“You’ve heard about Highest Minister Riyabou, correct?” questioned Hiroshi a slight smile stretching across his face.

“We all have Munakata-sama,” replied Masa noting Hiroshi’s smile with more than just a little disgust. Munakata was, after all, a former Constitutional who had a score to settle with Riyabou, in fact that entire, now extinct, party has a bone to pick with the Highest Minister, “No one could have predicted that her affair with Rednight would be taken so poorly by the public.”

In fact, everyone knew exactly what would happen if they were caught. Women were already second-class citizens in the Ripaburikku; they had been knocked down to second class after the fall of the Religious Commonwealth and never managed to find a leader willing to elevate their status above sub-human. Nor should anyone have expected anything less of Riyabou and Rednight, both were young, barley thirty and obviously attracted to each other since she assumed office. It was really only a matter of time.

Hiroshi knew this too, but didn’t bother to go down that path, “Then you are aware she will soon resign?”

Masa didn’t flinch; he’d been aware of the news for quite some time and had even been one of the few who made the call for the party to suggest she step down due to the scandal. He’d also been one of the few who proposed that Rednight go with her, but upon hearing about how she was being bullied out – he said he would willingly resign. He still wasn’t altogether sure forcing her to resign was the right thing to do.

With a sigh he responded, “Yes, I am aware. What are you trying to get at?”

Munakata’s smile only got wider, “The Prime Executive will then be the Highest Minister.”

Masa’s response was laced with more than just a little annoyance, “So?”

He could tell Munakata enjoyed holding back the small bit of information that you needed to know, while feeding you all the worthless junk – just like a Constitutional, “He plans to announce his resignation from the Traditionalist Party soon.”

“And you know this, how?” questioned Masa, more than a little suspicious, he suspected a lie.

“He informed the council yesterday of his promise to assume the title of Highest Minister once Riyabou resigns, and as a way to mend the clear division in the government is going to become an independent until an opposition party can be formed.”

Surprising, but not totally unexpected, rumors had lingered of his true allegiance to the Traditionalists since he joined party years ago. “You came just for that?”

“Not exactly, in fact I’m here on behalf of the soon-to-be Highest Minister. He would like you to be a member of a committee that will be formed after Riyabou’s resignation and his swearing in.”

Masa raised an eyebrow, “Some financial committee I assume?” He had a long history in finances and that was the only type of committee he thought need to be formed – mainly to oversee the Ministry of Finance since money occasionally went mysteriously missing.

“Bigger. Matsumoto intends to have a major internal reformation of the government, military, and economy. He would like you to serve on the economic committee to oversee Jagada’s transition to a free-market economy. Your role would be head of the committee, you’d lead everything,” replied Munakata with his smile fading and being replaced by a callous look of seriousness.

“Why me,” asked Masa.

“Now that’s something you’ll have to take up with him, Hitomi-kun, for he wouldn’t tell me that,” replied Hiroshi before he looked Masa dead in the eye, “Ronin is serious, this isn’t like the others. He may actually pull off his boasts.”

New Christendom,
The Republic

While it was in the middle of December, and freezing winds to be expected – today’s weather seemed even colder and stiller as if the weather itself knew what was going to happen today. Prime Executive Ronin Matsumoto knew exactly what was going to happen as he brushed off his black suite, removing the few hardly noticeable specs that had invaded it. Once again his eyes set back on the city he would soon be ruling over, though the title of Highest Minister held much more power than that – it also held the power for administration of the entire Republic. Despite the circumstances that had led him to this moment he could not feel guilty, only disgusted in his own countrymen’s stubborn and archaic attitudes.

“Unbecoming of a Christian if you ask me,” he told the empty room, his voice laced with a little spite, and a lot of bitterness. He himself had been accused of being in an affair with the Highest Minister – though thanks to the concessions he’d made to the Constitutionals, and his willingness to succeed Riyabou had made him innocent overnight. It was a disturbing sign of what Jagada had become; a battleground for political parties, none of which had any real clue on how to save the desperate situation Jagada kept finding itself in.

As he turned around from the broad and wide window back towards his spacious white room which wasn’t befitting of a government official; one more problem both the Traditionalists and the former Constitutionalists failed to fix. His mind wondered off to the various other problems that beset the every fragile Republic. The utterly ghastly state the Armed Forces were in, the heavy restrictions and burdens that Absolute Capitalism had placed upon a country which depended upon foreign markets to bring in almost all of her needed resources and goods – and those same foreign markets were needed to export Jagada’s few, but very expensive, exports. Isolationism and a massive regional war which still raged on despite Jagada’s withdrawal, as news reports kept telling of a massive Macabee offensive into Safehaven. So much needed to be fixed after forty years of constant strife and so little he could really doing or hope to do, even if elected for four terms.

Knock! Knock! Knock! Turned his attention to the door and he shouted that it was open. In stepped his short and plump aide. “Prime Executive the limousine is prepared; would you like to leave now sir?” Matsumoto checked his watch, just a little after ten in the morning, two hours until the emergency session of Congress would begin. He could wait another hour and a half, but he felt compelled to speak with the outgoing Highest Minister. “Yes, let’s go.”

The drive to Riyabou’s office, and his soon-to-be office, was short and uneventful, as New Christendom was one of the few places were the ignorance and mismanagement of the Republic had, had taken its least victims. His black limousine was flanked on both sides by large sport utility vehicles, which had a light-weight type of armor plating. The security was excessive for a man of his current caliber, but considering Riyabou’s dramatic fall from grace, the people were eager to remove her and install someone more – manly. When they finally reached the old and worn stone building of the Highest Minister – the Whitecoat’s stationed all around the building saluted and stood in rigid attention, attention not even they would show to Riyabou.

He waved his small army of bodyguards away at the door and entered alone. His presence was immediately known and after stating his reasons for coming early, was swiftly taken to the outgoing Highest Minister’s room. Along the way he admired at how hypocritical this building was: old, worn, and seeming to crumble on the outside, while on the interior it was elegant with all signs of the Orient upon it. Once they reached the room he had to again decline the protection of bodyguards. What did they think was going to happen, Riyabou shoot him? After she herself was shot by a sexist who was fanatically against her, he doubted she would inflict the same pain upon anyone else.

He entered a room which immediately radiated of doom and gloom. Kalia was staring out the window and seemed unaware of his entrance. Her lover, Alfred Rednight, was more aware of his surrounding, but only just a little. It took him at least a minute or two to acknowledge his entrance.

As he came in close and bowed, Ronin returned the bow, “Rednight-kun, is she feeling alright?”

Rednight’s glare said it all but he reinforced it with words, “How would you feel if it were you?”

Ronin just nodded and began to walk over to her, only when he placed his hand on her shoulder did she spin around and look shocked that he was there. Her eyes were red and puffy, obviously from crying, something he’d never seen her do and probably never would. This would be the closest he ever came to it though. They stood there silently looking at each other for a minute. He could not think of the right words to use, and she probably didn’t know exactly what to say.

She finally broke the silence by turning back towards the window and whispering, “They stole it from me.”

He knew what she spoke of and could only nod, “Yes, they did.”

She snorted, not at his comment, but rather as the Congressional Hall which lay in clear view of her window, after a moment of saying words that only her mind could hear, which was good due that most of them were extremely vulgar and often had to do with sexual parts of the body and how the Congressmen seemed to lack them. Her face softened for a moment, “You will be replacing me?”

He was a little taken back by that comment. She knew full well he would assume control once she resigned. He disregarded it as her way of reassuring herself it was real, “Yes.”

“Old, foolish men, sitting in their mansions, condemning this new trend and that one, I will hope to never see them again,” she said bitterly.

He sighed. She meant that more as a request than anything else, “I will see to it.”

She gave a defeated sigh and headed back towards her desk, “I must brief you on a few things; I had planned on doing it after my resignation, but now is as good as then.”

Matsumoto nodded and made his way over to her desk, while Rednight sat next to her in another plump chair. The briefing went by fast, including many things he already knew: poor state of the Military, economic depression setting in, isolated foreign relations, and national morale at rock bottom. Though there was one thing he didn’t even know. The alliance between Inn Industrial and her administration, which allowed it to become the only real corporation in Jagada, exactly why Inn Industrial and the government seemed to become friends overnight, was always under suspicion but nothing was ever proven.

Once the briefing began to enter its final stages, primarily with Riyabou simply explaining the current staff of the Highest Ministers … Palace, Ronin glanced at his watch and read that they had thirty minutes. Kalia realized the time too and quickly ended the briefing with just a few more comments.

She gave another sigh as she rose to her feet, no words needed to be exchanged other than to inform the servants and aides that it was time to leave. As they walked outside two limousines sat parked – his black one, and the white one that the Highest Minister was to ride in. As they exited the warm building a rush of frigid air flew over them, Rednight and Riyabou pulled their coats in closer around them, though Ronin wasn’t as badly affected since he knew what to expect. As he stopped at the top of the stairs to allow Rednight and Riyabou to go down first; Ronin noticed that all of Riyabou’s personnel servants seemed less happy to see her go. Perhaps they had time to realize that being a woman didn’t reduce you to animal intelligence and that she was actually a good person. Some of them hugged her before she began to walk down to her limousine. He walked down the stairs two at time and intercepted her before she got to the car.

“Allow me to drive you,” he stated calmly with a smile on his face. She looked at him confused, “Consider it a new trend.”

She gave a short, sharp laugh and nodded. He led her over to his vehicle and opened the door for her and Rednight. After they got in and walked around the other side and would have let himself in, if his aide hadn’t beaten him to it. As he got in and situated himself he informed the driver where to go and with a slight jerk the vehicle took off. Just as the ride over to Highest Minister’s … Palace, the ride to the Congressional Hall was quiet. The armored SUV’s still flanked his limousine, and now there were Yari Samurai vehicles on the sides of them – he reminded him of a turtle wearing a shell much too large for itself. He surprised to see that the crowds that had been out yesterday rioting over Riyabou’s affair were surprisingly gone on such a cold day.

“Causes need fair weather,” he said out loud. Riyabou immediately caught it and nodded, Rednight seemed to have missed it entirely.

The car began to decelerate as they approached the stairs of the Congressional Halls. Once they stopped, the doors on both sides opened up and all the occupants emptied out. He grimaced as he stepped out and looked around. Not at the dull setting, nor at the weather, but at the fact that no one has here. No reporters, no crowds – nothing. No one had even bothered to show up and jeer at the former Highest Minister, a great sign of disrespect. The three of them met on the first step and he motioned for Riyabou and Rednight to go first, which they did. As he followed behind he noticed he security was tight, but only around himself. He noticed several holes in the protection surrounding Riyabou and Rednight, just enough room for some lone shooter to squeeze threw and fire off a shot before being tackled to the ground by a completely ‘shocked’ bodyguard.

He, for once, gave his own sigh of defeat and whispered to anyone who could hear him, “Something is wrong with this place.”

The Halls of Congress,
New Christendom - The Republic,

If there was ever a point in her life where she could truly relate to the Christ – it was now. As she walked in her white suit, the same one she wore to giver he inaugural address, she could feel the accusing eyes lashing out at her, and occasionally a sneer or two as she got close to some of the representatives. The only things that were missing were a heavy cross, Roman soldiers, and a crown of thorn – but only in a literal sense. The weight of this incident weighted her down almost slowing her pace to what was no doubt an altar upon which she would be sacrificed, all because she was a woman. Her lover, Rednight, could only squeeze her hand to show some sort of comfort, his brash and persistence would be of no help in this helpless situation.

Shibuki Kotaro stood at the end of the aisle and watched her approach, despite being the Head of the Council he was still one of the few honest men and he was a Traditionalist whom she was told opposed her forced resignation, a good man in other words – a rare commodity in these times. As she got closer she realized the expression on his face, sorrow and regret. Shibuki was a plumb old man whom wore circular glasses and always had a smile on his face, his eyes were hardly noticeable threw the flab of fat that seemed to roll over them though he was a dedicated family man and one of the few Congressmen whom didn’t beat his wife or children. As she passed him for her reserved seat she gave a faint smile to reassure him everything would be ok. His solemn nod told her didn’t believe her but would not dishonor her by telling her verbally.

As she took her seat, with Rednight taking his seat to her left, and Ronin Matsumoto taking his to her right she watched as Shibuki waddled up onto the stage and to the podium. With a audible sigh he prepared himself – while he was one of the few good guys in Congress, he wasn’t Head of the Council because he was a living saint, and Riyabou knew that, that is why no one sneered him for his support of her. People were known to go missing for such foolish mistakes. His small speech was short, but to the point. He did not go outright in his condemnation of Congress but gave a stern objection to the media which had caused the situation to explode out of proportions. None of what he said would ever make it to mass media despite the cameras in the room; again the fear of what he was capable of doing to any individual was scarcely more dangerous than what he could do to entire companies.

After only fifteen minutes Shibuki sighed for his last time, “On that note, gentlemen,” the final word forced out, “I present to you the Highest Minister of the Monotheistic Republic of Jagada, Riyabou Kalia.”

She had expected sneers, laughs, and ridicule, even naming calling; what she got was astounding, even to Shibuki. Silence that was it, cold and dead silence as no man in the Congressional Hall said a word, clapped a hand, or even threw a tomato. It was as if Shibuki had introduced her at all. She the plumb man stepped to the side and waddled his way back off stage, she took her position at the podium. She glanced around expected some spontaneous condemnation to come, but she was not to even be granted that. In their eyes she did not even exist, like a child to uncaring parents.

She decided to force a response from them, “I resign … that is all.”

As suddenly as she was up there, she was gone. As she began to walk off she expected applause, she was disappointed. They remained in cold silence. She was like a ghost to them. Shibuki had not even been seated yet by the time she finished and whirled around in surprise at her short speech. As he made his way back up on stage at surprising speed he looked at her with surprise and curiosity. He would not dishonor her by asking her if that was all since he knew it was. He looked around and shrugged, “Thank you Riyabou Kalia. As the Constitution dictates upon the resignation of the current Highest Minister, her successor it to be the Prime Executive whom will serve for the duration of his or her term, though the Prime Executive must accept this task for succession to occur and that is why I present to you Prime Executive Ronin Matsumoto.”

Ronin stood up and the halls themselves shook with thunderous applause and cheer. The ultimate dishonor to her and considering the magnitude, maybe even a dishonor to Matsumoto. She watched as her former Prime Executive took the stage, exchanged friendly glances with Shibuki before he once against left stage right. He stared out at the applauding crowd and his face was calm and collective. She almost gasped at the expression he gave. He tried to hide it, but she had seen it on only one other man’s face – Franco York. In that instant she realized what his face shouted to his audience. She gulped and looked at the Congressional delegates blindly applauding him. Ronin had made up his mind – he would be the puppeteer, not the puppet.

Qing Castle,
Citadel of the Inquisition, The Republic

The neon green lights never got boring, never got old. They were a symbol of the Inqusition, of its purity and its devotion to the end of religious radicalism. The salt and pepper hair of Senshita Tokukawa (http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Film/Pix/gallery/2005/06/13/neeson3.jpg) was also illuminated in the neon green as he walked threw the eurocentric-designed halls of Qing Castle. Once in a while he would pass by one of his fellow Inqusitiors as they moved silently in uniquely lighted castle. Though it was not the familar settings that caught his attention this day, it was his destination -- the 'Pure Room' as it was called, a secret chamber where only the High Minister and the Grand Inqusitior knew how to find it, it was another reason why he travelled alone and not with a grand cadre of bodyguards. He had to admit that he was a little nervous, this meeting wasn't called by him as was tradition in the past, but rather by the new High Minister, Ronin Matsumoto. Why would the High Minister care to meet the Grand Inquisitor, only four High Minister's in the past had ever done so and then only two ever admitted it.

There ... the fourth door on the left in the western section of the castle, just four doors down from the Armory. He opened the door and found a rather elequent room full of paintings. Some were very good, some legendary, others needed only to be burned immediately and to no surprise it was behind one of those paintings that a keyhole existed, a keyhole that would only except one key and was nearly impossible to pick. With the turn of the wrist he heard several blots slide, several locks release, and a hiss as the isolated room joined the rest of the world. He wasted no time, entering the room and quickly sealing the door behind him. The sound of the bolts and locks relatching themselves continued behind him as he walked into the small, twenty-by-twenty room. The neon green lights did not exist, replaced now by purely candle lights. Nothing else was in the room except a wooden table and there at the table sat, paitently, Ronin Matsumoto (http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/columbia_pictures/memoirs_of_a_geisha/ken_watanabe/memoirs2.jpg). Senshita appoarched as Ronin rose to his feet and the two men bowed.

"It is highly unorthodoxed, High Minister, for you to meet with me," said Senshita, putting emphasis on Ronin's new title, as if to remind him that his current actions nearly went beyond his station.

Ronin smiled, "As High Minister it is my right of title to meet with you. Though you are correct, very few High Minister's want to tell their people they have they secretly meet with a man so powerful in Jagada's religious community. Especially when that man was only recently given the title."

Senshita's face was still for a moment as he focused on the High Minister's last comment. Yes, he was new, but for twenty years he'd been around, working hard to get where he was. "In service for the Inquisition for twenty years prior to my appointment to office, I do not see myself as something the people should find 'new'."

The High Minister nodded, "Yes, you are correct. Your service to this country as been great and you do deserve your title. Especially after you masterminded the downfall of Senator Rong and his militant cult."

Grand Inquisitor Senshita leaned back in his chair slightly nodding, "So you have read up on my career?"

Ronin shook his head, "No, I have followed your career since my own began around the same time. At first it merely to see how a random man would handle being an Inquisitor, and I stopped for several years since you seemed to advance little within the organization."

Senshita did not move and did not reply, and it made him uncomfortable that Ronin knew why he did neither. For seven years he sat in stagnation in the organization after his first plans to rapidly rise in rank failed with the death of several Inquisitors and the Inqusition's reputation tarnished. With no reply from Senshita forthcoming, Ronin continued, "Though when I heard about Senator Rong's downfall by your hands, I decided to follow you once more and you have proven very capable."

The Inquisitor of Inquisitors remained still and silent, trying not to allow his face to betray its calm and collected apperance. It was obvious Ronin was looking for something out of him, and it was equally obvious that Ronin was only here because he was here, if any other man had been appointed to office, it would seem that Ronin may have chosen another man to get whatever it was he wanted. "What is it you want?"

Ronin's face went into political mode almost instantly, "A rebuilt Jagada."

Senshita snorted, "Don't we all?"

The High Minister shook his head, "I need you and the Inqusition to accomplish this, or at least a piece of this for me."

"You have the 'Eye', they are far better at rooting out your opposition than we are ... we are designed to fight religious radicalism, not political dissent."

Ronin allowed a small smirk, "You will be allowed, but until religious pretexts. The 'Eye' is too corrupt, and that is what I need you to fight ... corruption."

Senshita laughed out loud, his face showing that he was both surprised and amused, "You insult us. We are not tools for your anti-corruption schemes. If we allowed ourselves to be everyones, pardon my language, bitches then we'd be no better than the Yari."

Ronin's face continued to show neither anger or anxeity, which didn't surprise Senshita in the least, "I would not come to you, asking for such a steep price from you if I didn't have something to offer."

Senshita's smirk remained, "What do you have to offer the Inqusition? We are completely independant of the Federal government, only with the Constitution as our guide, and far more power than the Federal government. Our organization's networth is nearly half of Inn Industrial's itself. Our strings are in every layer of soceity!"

Ronin shook his head, "Not Risban."

The name Risban came as a surprise to Senshita, "Risban? What do they have to do with this?"

Ronin reached under the table and pulled up a manila folder, opening it he set it on the table where two candles were, allowing the Grand Inqusitior to read it. His eyes scanned the papers intently, and widened with each page. After a few minutes he closed the folder and pushed it back over to Ronin.

"Even if you do decide to go threw with that suicidal plan, we are guaranteed jurdisdiction by Congress in any new lands."

"Yes, but not in military zones. That is what Risban will be for several years, a military zone outside of your control. In that amount of time, your enemies in the Federal government have plenty of time to force their claws deep within Risban and ensure your power is finally limited to Jagada proper."

Senshita's smirk was by now long gone and his eyes betrayed him, showing Ronin his rage. The High Minister merely shrugged, "Then again, there are ways to end the military's control of Risban sooner, giving you plenty of time to counter your enemies in Congress and secure your place in the new lands."

Senshita looked less than amused, he'd been trapped between a rock and a hard place, but he reckoned he could sooner break free from the hardplace than he could punch threw the rock, "I'm listening."