NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is linked with the RP here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=521118&page=1). It is still open, with significant territories available, but please JOIN FIRST.
Any posting here by nations not part of the broader RP will be ignored and requested for deletion.
Thank you.

Second note/disclaimer. Certain things I do here could be considered godmod. If any of the nations thus affected wishes to complain, please contact me, via TG/msn/the OOC thread, and we can talk about it. I am happy to make modifications to what I have written; I have done it this way for the good of the RP, and to kick things off.

That said, without further ado, let's get to the story...

It had begun…well, who could say where it began? For each cause had its own causes, going back further and further into the mists of time. The proximate cause was the plan.
The plan had been in existence for a number of years, and as further pieces had fallen into place it had become ever more urgent for this part to commence, before the relevant players were lost to the game.

As a result, an operative of the Government School of Codes and Cyphers, as Incognitia’s intelligence service was called, had been called into his boss’ office some weeks previously.
“Now Jan, you have operated in the Salo Republic before I know; this should be a fairly simple op. We have ‘leverage’ over a certain operative in that fine state.”
Jan grinned to himself. His non-descript features at last became a face you might remember and recognise another time. He knew exactly what ‘leverage’ was; usually photographic evidence of sexual perversion – homosexuality, adultery, or simply kinky sex acts. How it had been obtained, well, either a specific op, or a net, collecting anyone from foreign governments who passed through certain establishments in the famous red-light district of Nescia. That didn’t matter – they had what they needed, and the op was on.
“You will be going to this small town.” A map cast down upon the desk, along with a guidebook to the Eastern Salo Republic. “Mr Cavallero’s handler has told him to take his annual holiday there. You have a list of potential rendezvous identical with those given to Cavallero; obviously you are to remember these and destroy the list before crossing the border.”
“Cover story?”
“You’re a tourist, obviously, exploring the self-same areas as Mr Cavallero. Your papers are in the packet on the table, along with back-story. Shouldn’t be a problem however, as you’ll be carrying nothing incriminating, and should be long-since back in Nescia before trouble kicks off. In fact trouble should never reach even as far as Cavallero.”
“Very good sir. Do I need to know anything about the contents of the papers?”
“The outermost packet is to Paolo Cavallero; it contains his instructions, a ‘reminder’ of our leverage, and the instructions for the next link in the chain. These Cavallero is to give to his operative, who we know to be in Switzerland. Beyond ensuring this is done, we expect no more of you, and you are then to come home. Any questions?”
“Yes sir. When do I get a pay-rise?”
“Cheeky pup. Not yet.”

Not long afterwards Jan Bewolski, a man from the northern marches of Incognitia known to other times as Poland, but now passing as a moderately well-off tourist named Samuel Jameson, found himself at the border crossing into the Salo Republic. Game on, so to speak. Mr “Jameson” had entirely legitimately obtained a tourist visa from the Salo embassy in Nescia. The somewhat officious border guards had searched his baggage carefully, and been mistakenly confident a package of papers held no danger to them.
“Jameson” was entirely forgettable, and doubtless amidst the hundreds of tourists crossing each day would not be remembered past lunch-break.

Coming at last to a picturesque little village, he hopped down off the train; settled into the local guesthouse; enjoyed the scenery along with some of the typically excellent local cuisine; and settled into bed early. He had two days of mandatory holiday before the first rendezvous.
When that day rolled around, he made his leisurely way to the Roman ruin named as the rendezvous. Wearing travelling clothes and with the packet, unread, secreted in his bag, he immediately spotted Paolo Cavallero. He looked so nervous, the poor little man.
“Paolo Cavallero?”
A tight, nervous nod. “A, a, are you…”
“You don’t need to know Paolo. Follow me.”
He led Cavallero to a part of the ruins almost certain to remain unvisited, and passed him the packet of papers.
After allowing him to gaze at it for a while, “Open it, we don’t have all day.”
“What is it?”
“One way to answer that Paolo.”
The little man opened the packet. A couple of photos spilled out. Jan picked them up, and couldn’t restrain something of his shock showing on his face. They clearly showed Mr Cavallero, and a dog. Not what he’d expected at all.
Cavallero went white as he realised what Jan held.
“Well, that was a ‘reminder’, now to business. Read your instructions.”
“I am to send this package to operative Yodel with orders to follow the instructions therein.”
“Indeed. I will be checking in with you in one week’s time to ensure that you have done so. Understood?”
“Uh, uh, uh, yes, of course.”
“Right well, thank you for your time Paolo.” At this Jan left, to go back to being a tourist in truth.

On return from his holiday, colleagues might have noticed Paolo Cavallero being oddly distant. But then he was quiet and reserved in any case, so they would have ignored it. The fact that he sent instructions for an agent through the Embassy Diplomatic bag was likewise not so unusual.
Operative Yodel was an Italian Swiss, concerned at the level of German influence in his country. He only passed information, and occasionally ran intelligence related errands for his Italian masters. His job as a self-employed builder with jobs mostly by word of mouth scattered across much of Switzerland gave him the perfect cover.
He took the remainder of the packet of documents to a M. Guillaume Vuarden. Never knew what they contained, or why he’d been asked to do so, but that was the job he did, and was paid to do, by the Salo Republic…

Guillaume Vuarden was a man obsessed. He had long since come to the conclusion that Germany was a threat to the Swiss way of life. You only had to look at the fact they had expanded so swiftly to cover so much of the ethnically German territory of Europe. They bordered Switzerland. And what were so many Swiss? Ethnically German…
As such he burned, he ached, for Germany to be humbled. But, being paranoid of Germanophiles amongst his own people, he had always moved quietly, and guarded his dirty secret close. He was a part of Swiss intelligence, and was there because of his view on the German threat, which he couldn’t tell his superiors, because they were so blind! The little good he could do now would be wasted if he spoke out and was quietly retired.

When he received a package of papers from that Italianate courier, he was wary of what it might contain. Who, unaddressed, unexpected, and through a most unconventional courier, was trying to contact him?
He left it at his desk at home, and it lay there staring at him all that evening when he returned from the office. Eventually he succumbed, and opened it. What he spread out on the table astounded him. It went something like this:
A bearer bond, drawn on a Swiss bank account – numbered obviously – for an amount sufficient to run a successful operation.
An analysis of protective arrangements placed around the German Kaiser.
A simple set of instructions.
M Vuarden, we want you to kill the Kaiser. We also wish for you to cause as much destruction as you may, killing as many German officials and the like as is achievable.
Who we are is immaterial. Why we want you to do this should be self-evident. We expect your attempt to be made within the month. Good luck and Godspeed.
The note was written in M Vuarden’s own language, French, and thus carried no real clue as to the identity of his benefactors. His own guess was the Saloans, as thus they would gain more influence in Switzerland by opposing the German response when the plot was discovered. But it could be the Anj; Illar; Wolfenburg; Incognitia; or Osteia. It could even be shadowy groups amongst his own superiors.
“Well, how interesting. There is much to be done.”
There was never really any question he wouldn’t do it. Even if it was a German sting operation, if they could do that they could squish him any time. Better to try.
All that weekend, that being the Friday, he planned and considered his options. Explosives was probably the best option; and two separate strikes, one on a public appearance by the Kaiser, the other on an official building, given that the second was thus likely to succeed. Operatives to use…there were enough, who had worked before, and were willing to do ‘wet’ operations. Discreet feelers were put out to a few, via the usual channels, to see if they were still working, and if they were willing to try something big, and quite risky. He checked first in their files, that all were anti-monarchist, and thus happy to try against the Kaiser.
Those who responded favourably were instructed to meet him at a mountain chalet in the North of the country later that week.
It was a round dozen. All male, varying from later youth to middle age, and all fairly fit. Their expertise included variously close-in combat, firearms, explosives, and deception. What was more, they were all German; and all anarchists, viscerally opposed to the Kaiser’s very existence. Perfect.
“So, gentlemen. Thank you all for coming, now before I start…if any of you wishes to step out of this operation after I have explained it, you will be kept in a lunatic asylum in the city, heavily drugged, until it is all over. Of course if you were to stay in and betray the operation you would die horribly, so three weeks on opiates doesn’t seem too bad, no? Is that understood?”
“Yeah, yeah, get to the meat!”
“Anyone else?”
“We are all satisfied Guillaume.”
“Very well. Gentlemen, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to kill the German Kaiser, and simultaneously hit a major police station with a bomb.”
A little murmur ran round the room at that; one of excitement. None of them had tried anything that big before. Killing the Kaiser…you’d probably die, but your name would live in legend. Guillaume had picked his men well – they were all in.
“So, on to the detail. The Kaiser will be making a public appearance in Stuttgart. While you will have input into the planning, I suggest either explosives or a pistol, used from close-to.
As to the police station, the idea is to hit the central Stuttgart police station within minutes of killing the Kaiser, this time with a much larger quantity of explosives, home-made and fertiliser based.”
“How is this op funded?”
“I have here a bearer bond, drawn on a bank here in Switzerland. One or more of you will need to pose as businessmen to get this paid up with only minor bother. Everything you need is legal and should be easy to obtain, apart perhaps from the weapon to kill the Kaiser, but you should have contacts that can handle that over the border.”
“Indeed.”
“Oh, and obviously the Kaiser’s appearance sets a time limit. You have three weeks; the end of this month is the deadline.”
“Very well.”
“Ok, in that case Gunther you’re in charge. Feel free to use this place for planning, then just vacate it when you’re finished with it.”
With that, Vuarden left, and wrote the chalet off the list of safehouses for the Swiss intelligence services.

It was three days later that the first of the team crossed the Swiss-German border. On legitimate papers in an assumed name, as a pair of fairly well-off German farmers returning from holiday. “Carl” and “Gustav” went and rented a farm a few miles south of Stuttgart, then obtained a wagonload of fertiliser “for the farm”, along with a quantity of diesel, and cotton. Separate establishments, miles apart, always with a plausible cover story for wanting these innocent-seeming materials.
The farm was rented with money they had extracted using the bearer bond before leaving Switzerland, along with their purchases. Meanwhile “Georg” and “Friedrich” were posing as businessmen, all smartly suited, obtaining all the money they would need for the rest of the op, and incidentally finishing use of the bearer bond…
“Wilhelm” was in touch with his criminal contacts in Germany itself, getting hold of several pistols; this went off without a hitch, as it had been considered easier than smuggling them in from Switzerland. After all, so many reservists and ex-servicemen had them…
After ten days of their allotted three weeks, all the pieces were in place. The materials for the bomb; the weapons for the assassination; the people involved.
The next few days were spent making the bomb itself, and a suitable fuse, to give them a chance to get away before it blew.
Then waiting. Planning routes. Fine-tuning the plan for the Kaiser.
And at last, the day arrived. The great day. The day of the shot that would be heard around the world. The two on the wagon, “Carl” and “Gustav”, were once again dressed as farmers, and drove off gently, aiming to arrive just a few minutes before the assassination, to light the fuse and begin walking quietly and calmly away, just far enough to be clear of the explosion.
Those with pistols, four of them, had left earlier, to get on the train, and get to Stuttgart well in time, to be at the front of the crowd.
These four didn’t really expect to get away. They hoped to be able to turn their pistols on themselves before being captured by the mob; or to be torn to pieces by the mob itself, perhaps.
Wilhelm, Friedrich, Georg, Hans; all men with an abiding hatred of the German monarchy; all willing to destroy themselves in order to destroy the Kaiser.
They were dressed as typical Germans on a day out. Their pistols were well hidden by warm clothing; it was January in Stuttgart, after all. And, even making their way in as a group of men, they looked merely like workers from an office going to watch the Kaiser go by together.
They were together so that there was a chance of restraining the crowd long enough to shoot accurately once their pistols were out.
And when at last the fateful hour arrived; surrounded by excited crowds about to see their monarch, Georg, the man who would try first, was tense. He was, honestly, scared enough to soil himself, but retained control. Death to the oppressors!
When the Kaiser’s open carriage came in view, it was all he could do not to pull out the pistol at once; but he waited, and waited, until it was right in front of them. Immediately all four pulled their pistols, Georg firing at the Kaiser, the rest at the nearest guards and the like.
It took only moments to empty the weapon; Georg and his companions were then overwhelmed by the crowd, oblivious of the effect of their shooting, and very soon as they were heaped by nearby humanity, oblivious of anything at all. His last conscious thought was something somewhat like fear…but he was alive right now, and if they were pulled from the crowd soon, they might, just might, survive.
Carl and Gustav had, at much the same time, lit the fuse inside their wagon, and calmly walked away, with it parked on the pavement outside the Stuttgart central Police station. It was a short fuse, so once around the corner they walked faster, and hadn’t gone far before they heard a dull *crump* of the bomb going off. At that point both panicked, and ran; they had a train to catch to get the hell out of town.

At around the same time, Paolo Cavallero was receiving a letter. It took the form of a photo of his face, clearly cut out from a larger picture. Seemed innocent enough, but he knew exactly what picture it was from…
The note with the picture said simply Now may be the time to remove yourself from any further trouble. You have our word all evidence will be destroyed so nothing will damage your posthumous reputation.
He carefully burnt the picture, and the note, and then wrote a note blaming pressures of work, and apologising to his family. He took hold of his service revolver, placed it in his mouth, closed his eyes, and carefully squeezed the trigger. His wife was first to find him; she was promptly sick, before running away to call an ambulance.

OOC: an executive summary.
An attempt has been made on the life of the Kaiser, along with a bomb being set off outside Stuttgart police station.
The perpetrators are German malcontents who have worked for Swiss intelligence in the past. Some have been captured, more may be found in due course.
Their only contact was a Swiss Intelligence man, with a deep hatred and fear of Germany. He doesn’t know who gave him his funds and instructions, only that they came from a Swiss-Italian messenger, whom he has no idea how to trace.
The messenger is a lowly agent of the Salo Republic, who simply passed on a package; he has no idea what it contained, only that it came from his Saloan handler, Paolo Cavallero.
Paolo Cavallero is now dead.

I just want to re-emphasise, that I recognise I am treading a very fine line close to god-mod here. This is all done with the aim of good RP, and in the hope of setting up a European war in this RP.
If any of the nations whose operatives I have made use of wish to take issue, please talk to me, and we can try to reach an amicable solution. Otherwise, this awaits the German response. After all – is the Kaiser dead!?....

OC: so let me clarify things. You have an agent in the Salo republic who you blackmailed to kill the Kaiser?

IC:

The Byzantium League hopes that the Kaiser is alive and well, and pledges solidarity to find who is behind this evil act.

OC: so let me clarify things. You have an agent in the Salo republic who you blackmailed to kill the Kaiser?

OOC: Did you read the executive summary at the bottom, in bold?
To clarify, Cavallero had no idea what the instructions were; he passed them on as a sealed package.
Basically, what you say is superficially accurate, but misses a lot of important detail.

OOC I've always wondered what a 1910's spy war would look like and have always looked forward to seeing, so here's some more ground work.


"Damn Damn Damn!" The marbled halls of the Imperial palce echoed with expletives as a red faced Heinrich Ablemier, Minister of Information sprinted down a corridor driving less experienced bureaucrats into alcoves diving for cover. Behind the minister jogged a group of several ISS men in clothing that rather gave away their proffesion, dark ties, on dark suits. Two servants at the end of the corridor noticed the Minister, at about 50 yards and slammed open the door to the Imperial office, before flinging themselves out of the way.

"I'm afraid a full house beats that too. I'll just take back Hallelien on the Sound." On a long polished table six men of the empire sat with bitter forced smiles on their face, looking at the Emperor who was pulling in a heap of scrolls and ribbons.

"We'll make you a baron someday!" The Emperor cackled through his gums, while scooping up several titles for himself. Heinrich Ablemier stopped momentarily, in his winning state the Emperor had not noticed the great room shattering boom of the doors being flung open, the Minister took this time to prepare himself to the Emperor's mindframe.

"Your Majesty, there is news from the ISS it's urgent."

"Heinrich, it's not that urgent that I get your first born,"the Emperor stated jovially, he then gently patted a field marshall on the hand and gave him a knowing wink. The old man as pulling up saw the seriousness in the huffing face of the Information Minister and pulled himself into what nearly passed for Imperial grace. "What is it?"

The Minister swallowed, "The Kaiser of the German Empire, has been attacked, one of our agents in Germany Telegramed it to us this morning, his condition is unknown, although at least two men attacked the carriage. I have reports from our field agents as well as General Strausmenter," he tossed down some files which the Emperor shoved along to the Field Marshall.

Suddenly the gambling, biggoted old man's, who it was impossible not to like, face went guant, even he understood the implications. "Is it likely he will survive?

"At the moment we have no new information our agent went silent slightly after. Nothing has come out of Germany for hours, I'm afraid, our high level of agents operating in the German states and their sudden silence makes it all the more easy to believe we will be blamed for this. Albert Fendoween of the ISS has reported at least 8 intelligence officers going missing in their various fields of operations."

"What of military action?" Marshall Jacob Hartlieb inquired with a growing frown. "Are we prepared should this thing boil over?"

Ablemier looked pained but with a nod fro mthe Emperor continued, "We can't mobilize if we should attempt such a course of action hostilities will break out, between most of Europe.... A war which we sadly cannot win despite the navy we don't have the numbers. Until we must this must be a war of information. Speaking of information it is rather strange that, the attack should happen in the way that it did.

Hartlieb scoffed loudly, "Men with guns blasting a ruler to ribbons? It isn't that orginal is it? How is it intereasting?"

The Minister cringed again gently, "The ISS has had plans to eliminate every head of State in Europe should the occasion arrise, according to the greatest threats and likelyhoods in every state. Including I may add our own Emperor, that one involved a stripper and pancakes, not quite sure how it went." He sniffed gently at the Emperor's reels of laughter. " A bomb blast, an unaware squad martyrs, and even down to the pistols they used refelects Waldenburg it is seriously bad, I have taken the liberty of creating a document of condulance and of course offering the Empire's assistance in the matter of tracking down the criminals.


'Message From: Heinrich Ablemier Minister of Information Waldenburg
To: The Honorable German Empire

It has come to the attention of my ministry, and indeed the world that there has been an attack on the Kaisers' life. This greatly troubles Waldenburg, as it may turn into a fetish should it continue to happen. We are unaware of the Kaiser's state but offer his family condolence, and wishes for your countries' revival. As an honorable man the Waldenburger Emperor offers the ISS (Imperial Special Service) at the disposal to track down and destroy the cells or peoples behind this outrageous attack. If we can assist in any way we shall endeavor to do so.

Signed:
His Most Gracious and Imperial Majesty Wyatt Von Waldenburg III'
The Emperor slowly applied his signiture, still smiling at the novelty of strippers, and still guant with the thought of war.

Official Communique

The Swiss Confederation would like to urgently affirm that this act was in no way sanctioned by the people. We wish the Kaiser the best, and hope all the other victims of the attack are alright.

"My King, the Prime Minister for you," the door guard announced. "Yes let him in Chris," the King replied. He had been waiting for the arrival of the Prime Minister for several hours since the news arrived from intellingence sources about the assasination attempt on the Kaiser.

In walked the Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Bautzen, George Walters. Funny, the King thought, how such an unimposing man could be so adept at slaying his political opponenets using such impricise things as words. At least he believes in the monarchy, not like those damn socialists. But to buisness he concluded as George approached with his arm outstretched...

"George," the King exclaimed once the Prime Minister was within reach. "So good to see you once again, I only wish that it could be because of better circumstances. By the way I wanted to congradulate on your complete trouncing of the Socialists in the latest question period. But to buisness, what do we know?" "Well," the Prime Minister began slowly, "not much really, all we have been able to discover is that there was an attempt on the life of the Kaiser. Shot him from point blank, if you can believe it, amazing that they were able to take the shot so easily. Our sources haven't even confirmed whether the bullets hit him or not, the Germans are clamping down hard. Not only that but our sources have no idea who the assasins worked for."

"Walter (the Foreign Minister) and I have been working on an official resonse, which should have been sent several minutes ago. It expressed our sympathy for the empire during this time of crisis and that we hoped the bastards who made the attempt will be found and put to trial. We have also sent out communiques to our allies in Incognitia, asking them if they have any more info on the outcome of the assasination attempt." He sighed, "thats pretty much it though, it could have been any number of nations in the region; and to be honest with you they could have just been some anarchists with rich benefactors. Lord knows that the Kaiser has stepped on enough toes in his day." His tone suddenly darkened, "My Lord, this could be the spark which ignites the continent. I have told Henry and Andrew (Ministers of National Defence and War, respectively) to review our mobilizaion plans just in case this thing explodes. Sir, I just want you to be ready if the worst comes to pass."

The King after obsorbing this informed the Prime Minister, truthfully even, that there was no one that he trusted more to protect his people in the event of a catatrophe; and that he mustn't worry, as he was sure that it would all be worked out peacefully. Following that he dismissed him and got to thinking. "Hmmm, he wondered do I really believe that this will just blow over." Unfortunately the answer was no....

OOC: So to summarise we are just as confused as everyone else in regards to this right now. We have sent a note to the Germans expressing our condolences and we are conferring with our allies to try to determine the result of the assasination

OOC: Just playing off the fact that ICly responses to the plot are coming before knowledge of it is public.

SIC: "The fools! To declare that they know of the state of affairs, before any announcement from the Kaiserreich!"
"Indeed. The Swiss particularly are digging themselves deeper into the hole they already find themselves in."
"I assume the Foreign Office is suitably prepared?"
"Yessir. Not told anything specific, but they've been tipped off as to 'doings in Germany'. Since they don't know anything about it, they can't give anything away."
"Excellent."
"One question sir."
"Yes...?"
"What about Bewolski?"
"?"
"Our agent who went to the Salo Republic."
"Ah yes. Keep an eye on the progress of the investigation; it should be okay, but lay preparations for him to be found dead, framed as a member of someone's - I don't care whose - intelligence service. Keep him under your eyes, prepared for a journey."
"Very good sir."

IC:
To: Bautzen
There's been an assassination attempt? We have not yet heard of any happenings in the Kaiserreich. Be assured we will pass on any significant news when we get it.
Honestly the newspapers may reach you faster; our intelligence network in Germany is rudimentary.
- Foreign Office, Incognitia

Official Jagroron responce to the attempted assassination of the Kaiser of the German Empire

The Combative Democracy of Jagaro would like to offer it's deeps condonces to both the loyal people of Gremany and the Kaiser family. The great Prince Edward also like to express his personal disgust over this cowardly attempt to break the nation. The Jagaron armed forces stand at the ready to assist the Greman Empire should they require help in this time of crisis.

IC:
To: Bautzen
There's been an assassination attempt? We have not yet heard of any happenings in the Kaiserreich. Be assured we will pass on any significant news when we get it.
Honestly the newspapers may reach you faster; our intelligence network in Germany is rudimentary.
- Foreign Office, Incognitia

OOC: We do have sources in the country, and its kind of hard for people not to notice that someone attempted to kill the Kaiser. They just dont know whether it suceeded or not.

IC:
To: Incognitia
Surely you have heard of it? It has been all over the late editions of the German newspapers. No one seems to know what happened yet, just that someone apparently tried to kill the Kaiser. We would appreciate it if you would pass along any info you might come across.

’’It is my sad duty,’’ began Reichkanzler Otto II zu Schwaben. He was standing before the Reichstag, the rest of the members of the Kaiserlich Regierung on the left side of the speaker’s rostrum. A tall and sturdy man, his English moustache delicately curved and a golden bridged pince-nez on his nose.
Murmurs spread amongst the members of the Reichstag. Many had already heard the news; after all, news of regicide could only be expected to spread; and many more were soon to hear it as the rumours; like wildfire, skipping from one parliamentsman to another, expanding logarithmically; spread in the Kanzler’s silence.
‘’It is my sad duty,’’ he began anew, ‘’to inform you, my dear members of the Reichstag and fellow ministers of the Imperial Government, that our beloved leader, His Imperial Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm Frederick IV Adolf von Hohenzollern, today in this very city, was the target of an ungodly act of terrorism, a vile treachery not only to his Imperial person, but to all of Germany and to all Germans in all lands. During a public appearance in this city, the capital of the Empire he so long fought to make greater yet than his predecessors could dream of, nihil sine deo, he was heinously shot by a group of individuals, several of whom we have identified as vile anarchists. Simultaneously was a fiendish act of terrorismus carried out against the city’s police headquarters not far from here. It is my firm belief that the two attacks upon our nation are connected.’’
The murmurs suddenly all died out; the rumours confirmed beyond all doubt and all fears come true. Nothing was uttered, not a single whisper broke the silence. Before Otto sat no less than two hundred and fifty individuals, all of them commanding vast enough power and carrying such fierce influence as to be members of the German parliament, and all of them were petrified. He saw the Herzog of Vorpommern, the stalwart protector of the last of Pommeria, for the first time speechless. The bold von Tirpitz silent and still. There was no immediate action, but a terrible motion in the minds and hearts of all of Germany.
‘’Der Kaider was immediately rushed to a hospital by his brave chauffeur, who will be rewarded for his swift and resolute action later today. I have yet to receive any reports on the condition of our beloved leader.’’
‘’That is all gentlemen. His Majesty’s Imperial Government will present a course of action in due time. Until then, I propose that we do not further aggravate the situation by needless squabble over unimportant questions, but rather focus our energy on enduring this hard time and facing what troubles that may arise out of this. No doubt are our enemies still watchful for any signs of weakness, and we must stay firm and vigilant; united against the terrible forces of evil.

The Government though, could not immediately propose any plans of action, as instead the Reichkanzler as well as the Foreign Minister and his department were forced to answer the hail of telegrams that were addressed to the German Empire; as well as writing one of their own, addressing the major players of the international game of diplomacy that could perhaps have any real interest in the event, or rather having interest in preventing the disaster from spilling over unto them.


No doubt have you heard the terrible news already; that the Emperor of Germany, His Imperial Majesty Frederick IV Adolf, has been subject to a nihilistic assault upon his person. No less than three days ago was he attacked and shot by a group o armed men during a public appearance in Stuttgart. The perpetrators have all been identified as infamous anarchists, some of whom have been known to stay abroad. I implore all of you to do your utmost in helping us finding those responsible for this terrible crime.
I can assure you that the State of Germany will not allow this vile plague, this ghost anarchism and communism, to haunt Europe any further.
The Imperial Government of Germany


We are most grateful for your concern and you willingness to help a fellow nation in these times of trouble, Your Majesty.
We are honoured that you offer the services of your agencies to our aid, and we will most certainly accept this offer in the future. This moment however, the German people would best spend praying for the life of our beloved Emperor.

The Swiss telegram caused more concern however. ‘’The act was not sanctioned by the people’’; what did they mean? A most disturbing telegram in these times, it was to haunt the minds of every high-ranking intelligence officer in the German Empire, and surely in the rest of the world also, for the days to come.
The response from the state of Bautzen and Jagaro, was nothing out of the ordinary. Condolences, outrage at this vile act of treason and vague promises to aid. They were answered similarly; with empty words of gratitude at their likewise empty sympathy.

Meanwhile, in a dark and cold cell somewhere in Germany, one of the captured anarchists awoke. He was tied to a chair with leather straps, his head aching and bleeding. A single oil lamp lit the room; casting long shadows that danced and upon the walls, as if they were rehearsing a grim play. MacBeth would be suitable, had the man ever heard of it.
A figure stepped out of the darkness and dreadfull gloom. He held a red hot iron in his hand.
The same treatment awaited the other four of the captured men. They would confess, give up whatever information they had and then be executed. Nihil sine deo.

Meanwhile, in a dark and cold cell somewhere in Germany, one of the captured anarchists awoke. He was tied to a chair with leather straps, his head aching and bleeding. A single oil lamp lit the room; casting long shadows that danced and upon the walls, as if they were rehearsing a grim play. MacBeth would be suitable, had the man ever heard of it.
A figure stepped out of the darkness and dreadfull gloom. He held a red hot iron in his hand.
The same treatment awaited the other four of the captured men. They would confess, give up whatever information they had and then be executed. Nihil sine deo.

"Arrrrgggghhhhh! Die, you statist PIG!"
That was the first response, almost to a man. However, as time wore on...well, Wilhelm and Friedrich died before revealing anything of consequence.
The others knew just as much, however, and eventually gave the address of the farmhouse they had rented; the shops they had bought their supplies from; what they knew of how the pistols had been obtained; where and when they had crossed the border; the location of the chalet where the planning had been done; the details of the payment - what bank and so on.
And finally, under great pressure and on the verge of death, some of their accomplices names; those they expected to have been captured already, Carl and Gustav; as well as naming those they had been captured with.
And at last...Hans could take it no longer. With what turned out to be his dying breath, he whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming:
"Guillaume Vuarden, Swiss Intelligence. He paid us."

The captives were dead, but they had passed on some information that would be useful to the investigation, especially Vuarden's name.


####


"Prayers were said today for the recovery of the Kaiser as congregations across Incognitia hoped for peace.
The Leader issued his condolences and made it clear that if any of the perpetrators reached Incognitia they would recieve a very hot welcome."

The fact of saying them, the look of the thing, mattered. They meant nothing.

The Swiss telegram caused more concern however. ‘’The act was not sanctioned by the people’’; what did they mean? A most disturbing telegram in these times, it was to haunt the minds of every high-ranking intelligence officer in the German Empire, and surely in the rest of the world also, for the days to come.

Official Communique

The Swiss Confederation would like to remind the German Empire that Switzerland is ruled "by the people." Almost any action that the Confederation takes is voted on by the people. We certainly do not support this act in any way, and would like to again state that we wish for the Kaiser's quick recovery.

OOC: You are only making it worse for yourself.

OOC2:
IC post goes here. Me getting mad at the Swiss, the Kaiser surving or dieing, turmoil and the like. Might take a while.

Telegram to the German Empire

As natural neighbor's The Warsaw Confederacy and the German Empire have always been close. We are held together with undeniable bounds, and in this most gloomful hour, these ties are ever exhibited. Let it be known that your tears are shared, and we too grieve for your Kaiser. Royal blood must prevail. We cannot let Kingdoms or Empires of old vanish in the night. Anarchical acts such as these must therefore be punish, and I assure you my dear friends, they will be, whatever the cost.

In hope for the Kaiser's recovery.

The Suurherttua of Warsaw.

Not supported by the people. Switzerland is ruled by the ‘’people’’. Why had it been necessary to point this out? Why had Switzerland felt forced to make clear that they did not support this vile anarchist action? These questions had he pounded ever since he had received the Swiss telegram. Never mind the Kaiser, the he could easily call for the Reichstag to make the young prince the new ruler, should Frederick IV not survive. The Kaiser’s condition was not any better after two days. The bleeding had been relatively easy to stop, even the internal, but blood poisoning and ruptured inner organs were to be far more serious problems. No bullet had struck any vital organs, but at least one of the pistols had been loaded with shrapnel, and the massive blood loss sustained had severely weakened the Kaiser. Worse yet, it was feared that some pieces of the emperor’s clothes had not been recovered and were still lodged in his body, and one of the bullets had fractured upon impact with his chest bone and that the surgeons had failed to recover all pieces.
Nevertheless, his was not the fate of Germany. Should he die, there would be turmoil, there would be chaos, but out of it order would rise. The Hohenzollern dynasty would prevail yet again, and he would make it so. After all, why wouldn’t he? He was one of them, and while not next in line, was certainly on the line. Young Frederick, the fifth if is father did not get any better soon, was next in line. A foolish young boy, interested in the arts, the music and the girls of Germany; not in lordship of the mightiest nation in central Europe. He was impressionable, inexperienced. Easy to control. A perfect heir.
‘’Not supported by the people’’?
He took another sip of the champagne he had in his hand. The agreement with Waldenburg hade gone well. Not as well as he had hoped, but well enough. Germany was already allied with Wolfestein, though that agreement perhaps needed refreshment. First, a new alliance with Wolfestein. Then he needed to tie Wolfestein and Waldenburg closer to each other. Wolfestein would be easy. He could make out the Red Tide as a threat, citing some historic differences between the two nations. Waldenburg was harder. Dominance over the Baltic? They already had that, no matter what Tirpitz said. Protection of their colonies? Wolfesten could offer no such thing, and neither could Germany. Madagascar was the lowest common denominator of Germany and Waldeburg.
Ay, Madagascar. Tolls there could be lucrative; all ships headed for the East Indies had to pass through the Strait of Mozambique. But how would these tolls be taken, when Waldenburg controlled most of Madagascar? Granted, Germany, not Waldenburg, controlled the Mozambique coast, but merchant ships might not take the rout through the strait if faced by heavy German taxes. Indeed, it may very well be worth the trouble of going around the Waldenburg side of the island rather than paying Germany. Perhaps an agreement could be made with Waldenburg.
‘’Not sanctioned by the people’’?
This still did not bring Waldenburg any closer to Wolfestein. Perhaps he could make this new alliance out to be a counterweight to the mighty blocs that surrounded them. He could easily show that the Illar Empire was a threat to the sovereignty of Waldenburg. Wolfestein had Red Tide, and perhaps Caxistan too. Fair Caxistan of the plains of Poland. They would make a fine ally against Incognitia. For Incognitia, not Anj, was the real enemy of Germany in his mind. The Kaiser had disagreed, and had instead followed the hard line of predecessors when it came to the Anj question. Frederick had always pressed for war against Anj, die Endlösung der Anjfrage, to retake the German lands under their control. Otto instead saw Incognitia, the large state that in his mind threatened Germany’s position as the lord of central Europe. But Caxistan would perhaps change that matter. Caxistan, in alliance with Germany and Waldenburg and Wolfestein, would form a strong enough force as to secure Europe under Germany’s dominance.
‘’Not sanctioned by the people’’?
He returned to the question that had bothered him for so long. What did they mean? His thoughts were interrupted by the heavy thud of an aide’s shoes on the marble floor. Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud. The doors flew open and the aide delivered a plain, white telegram to the Reichkanzler of Germany. It contained all information that the captured anarchists had given up. It really was a pity they had died. A public execution would be a much more fitting punishment. It would show that Germany was far from broken by the heinous crime. Alas, they were dead and Germany’s might had to be made clear in another way.
The telegram did make clear the meaning of the Swiss telegrams though. The anarchists had been hired by Swiss intelligence. Most disturbing news indeed. But why? What could possibly have possessed the Swiss to assassinate the Kaiser? They could not possibly hope to defeat the German Empire. That was like the wasp stinging the elephant; a possibility too remote to fathom. This meant war, for sure. Did the Swiss plan on hiding behind their numerous friends in Europe, the powerful nations that guaranteed its freedom? But Germany was one of those nations! Did the intelligence officer act on his own? Impossible, preposterous! No official would do such a thing. It would be unchristian, disloyal to the state which had granted him authority. Still, Swiss authority did not stem from God, as it did in the civilized countries, but form the peasantry. Nevertheless, no official would betray his government. It would be dishonourable.
At any rate, he had exceeded his authority already. The monarch, not the chancellor, was the ruler of Germany. If the Kaiser did not get well soon, his impressionable young would have to take the throne. He had sent a telegram calling him from Rostock to Stuttgart. He would arrive soon. Until then, Reichkanzler, as head of His Majesty’s Government, ruled, closely watched by the bloodhounds of the Reichstag.
He could trust the nobles in all his endeavors, he knew that, but what of the parvenüs, the nouveau riche? They posed a greater problem indeed for chancellor Otto. But what of young Kaiser Frederick V? May he die early, the fourth. May he die early, and the young prince be crowned king. Nihil sine deo.

OOC: I guess you'll have to wait a bit for the war. Got to sort out internal struggle, as well as getting some other things straightened out.
Waldenburg can expect to be contacted in the next post, I think.

OOC: This looks excellent. If you continue RPing at this standard I can keep waiting for the result, hehe.
Just so you realise, I already have an agreement with Caxistan. Waldenburg, Wolfestein, might be open, but Caxistan is in a mutual defence pact with me - not against you, but that makes me doubtful he'll attack me (been wrong before, but, hehe).

OOC:
OOC: This looks excellent. If you continue RPing at this standard I can keep waiting for the result, hehe.Thank you!
Just so you realise, I already have an agreement with Caxistan. Waldenburg, Wolfestein, might be open, but Caxistan is in a mutual defence pact with me - not against you, but that makes me doubtful he'll attack me (been wrong before, but, hehe).Meh, there's no wall than cannot be climbed by donkey loaded with gold. At any rate, Switzerland poses a more immediate problem than Icognitia, never mind the paranoia of a megalomanical chancellor.

OOC: Just so you guys know, I've posted in this thread before Relative_Liberty. I'm just saying this because every nations have been mentioned except mine.

OOC: Just so you guys know, I've posted in this thread before Relative_Liberty. I'm just saying this because every nations have been mentioned except mine.

OOC:What response were you expecting? I mean seriously, all you did was express condolences in fancy words, just the same as half a dozen other nations have done.
The kind of thing that has to be said, but no-one really cares. If you were to offer some practical assistance, I'm sure you would get more of a response.
Certainly your response will be heeded when we get a little more into the action, beyond the initial aftermath. You, and everyone else, will have a little more of a chance to act.

Meanwhile the remaining members of the conspiracy were trying to escape.

Most had gone to ground in their old stamping grounds of the south. They made no attempt to reach an international border, and hoped for the storm to pass over them. None of these had been directly involved with the assassination, or the bomb, beyond helping procure materials and the like, and they had been heading for safety before either strike took place.

(OOC: If you want exemplary executions. They can't really tell you anything new, but associates of theirs will be able to turn them in)

Carl and Gustav, having fled somewhat later, expected it to take only a few hours for the hunt to begin homing in on them.
They headed straight for the border with Wolfestein. Not that they expected to be safe there, but they should be able to move on through; also it was in the opposite direction to Switzerland.

Having thus far proceeded safely, they were now approaching the border post.
Carl thought suddenly that they really should have split up, but no matter, they could back up one another's stories.
Then he noticed a stain of fertiliser on Gustav's sleeve. That really didn't fit with the cover story...
Now, having been confident throughout, he was finally scared.

Nonetheless they approached the uniformed customs officer, and presented their papers.
"Two businessmen travelling into Wolfestein."

The horse-drawn carriage was covered in black cloth. The twelve black horses that pulled the cart progressed slowly down along the still cobblestone road. Dragoons flanked the carriage; their swords drawn in silent salute. People, the inhabitants of fair Stuttgart, loyal subjects of His Majesty Frederick IV, lined the streets; their faces haunted by sorrow and grief; all dressed in black, the women covering their faces. The lamentations rang out like the church bells in the sorrowful January air, joining the poets’ dirges and the holy men’s requiems in a fearful symphony of mourning, a terrible music that spread throughout the German Empire, fled over the borders and, like a haunting hurricane or a fierce tempest, howled across the oceans to that land beyond the seas. Alas! The emperor of Germany was dead.
His carriage would continue from Stuttgart to the Burg Hohenzollern, the ancestral castle of his family and dynasty. There the king would be buried, and there his son, the young Crown Prince Frederick, would be crowned. As it had always been. The prince would take up his father’ crown and Germany would prosper under his rule. Nihil sine deo.

Otto did not follow the carriage to Burg Hohenzollern, nor did he see it leave the town as etiquette demanded. He had excused himself, in several long and unnecessary phrases explained that he meant no disrespect but that he had matters of state to attend to. von Tirpitz had done the same, as had Chief of Staff von Moltke. They met later in the Neue Schloss, the former seat of the kings of Württemberg and the current residence of the Imperial Government. Otto had asked for this meeting to take place while the king’s carriage had not yet left the city. As it was now, they could hope to be left undisturbed until their meeting was over, and they had reached an agreement.
‘’What news, Otto?’’demanded Tirpitz, ‘’why have you summoned us here, when we should morn our lost emperor?’’
‘’It is not I, but you, dear Alfred, who will provide the news. What have you heard about the Illar Empire, and their attempt to provoke an arms race?’’
‘’Nothing more than you have, Otto. The newspapers say they’re pouring all their money into it.’’
‘’As if they weren’t already!’’
‘’Indeed! A large number of dreadnoughts, about five or six if the papers are right, which they aren’t, and even more battle cruisers.’’
‘’We cannot know for sure?’’
‘’Not ‘til they are launched, Chancellor. Our spy network, such as it is, does not reach the ship works of Spain.’’
Indeed. Though Illar was mighty, and its power reached around the globe and left no thing under the sun untouched, her navy was of little interest to Germany. Illar naval supremacy was guaranteed, and Germany could do naught to challenge it. The second most powerful navy, that of Waldenburg, was old and lacked the might to challenge them. The rulers of Waldenburg though, had always maintained, as a point of prestige, their inane and mostly imagined position as a ruler of the waves. The Baltic was theirs, they said, but could not truly rule it without leaving their colonies unprotected. Neither could Germany and Wolfestein claim lordship over it, as they could not challenge the Waldenburg navy, old as it was. The three Baltic nations would have been locked in a stalemate, all of them being denied hegemony through the two others’ fleets in being. But that was not to be. Germany and Wolfestein were allied, and Waldenburg and Germany were tied close together through trade treaties. Through this, peace and stability in the Baltic were ensured.
Still, the Illar arms race posed a problem. If the other navies of the world caught on, Germany would be left behind, unable to protect its interests abroad. The balance in the Baltic might be upset, shifting into Waldenburg’s favour. If so happened, then what? Would they cancel the trade treaty between Germany and Waldenburg. Surely, they lost more on it than they gained. Bab-el-Mandeb was not so important to them. They could go through the Mozambique Channel and Germany could not tax their ships, and the delay of going around Africa could not be worth so much. If they did annul the treaty, Germany would be unable to force them to do otherwise.
‘’I see. And what of our own naval forces? I do remember the Kaiser ordering our navy to be expanded a few years ago.’’
‘’It is coming to fruition. Four new dreadnoughts are to be commissioned this year, though they are intended more as replacements of our old Kaiser class ships.’’
‘’Four new ships?’’
‘’Aye, Chancellor.’’
He had reverted back to referring to Otto by his title, rather than his name.
‘’How many do we currently have in commission?’’
‘’Five dreadnoughts, Chancellor. The late Kaiser and I agreed that four would suffice to uphold our sovereignty.’’
‘’Can we afford to keep two of the old, Alfred? Six dreadnoughts instead of the five we have, and two more than the four planned?’’
‘’It would cost, Otto.’’
It would cost the German Empire dearly to keep up in the coming arms race, if there were to be one. Six dreadnoughts would make it a power in the Baltic though, and still allow the empire to defend its colonies. But how to finance it? The chancellor could decide to make some cuts in the army budget, he had that kind of power, at least until the young prince was crowned, but that would not only weaken the land forces, the pride of Germany and their only defence against Incognitia, but also alienate many of the lords of the Reichstag. Oh, they would support them, they were forced to in order to prevent the burghers to take power, but he could perhaps not count on their support in other matters. And support of the lords was a vital ting in Germany. Unlike much of Europe, the nobility in Germany did not retain their power through just laws and privileges, but through income. Much of the land of Germany was owned by the noblemen, most importantly the areas of Elsaß-Lothringen and Bavaria, and they profited from it. Taxes on the goods produced, on the minerals mined, on the food harvested. It all made them stronger. The rise of the burghers were not far from reality, though, as the colonies acquired in the late nineteenth century was owned and administrated not by the noblemen, but by the Crown. There were nobles who were governors, but they were mostly nouveau riche who had been knighted by the Kaiser for their services. In the colonies, there were no thus no noblemen to pay taxes to, only the Imperial Crown. As a result, the burghers in the colonies grew richer and richer, and soon controlled the overseas German trade.
Still, the support of the noblemen was important, and he could not cut the army’s budget. Perhaps the answer indeed lay in the colonies? Raised fees for traveling through the Gate of Tears? That would upset Illar, not an enterprise to embark upon lightly. Still, it might be possible. He had yet to receive an answer from Illar relating to the declared stance of Germany in the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. Perhaps it was best to wait until he knew what the mighty men of Illar would do next.
But what of the Mozambique Channel? A treaty could easily be made with Waldenburg that allowed Germany to tax ships for passing. All that was need was a little coercion, and they would happily agree to it to make up for the lost taxation of the Öresund strait.
Raising tolls for traveling the German railroads in the Middle East was an option. Illar traders that wanted to get from India to Cairo without passing the Gate of Tears would have to take the land route, and the quickest one was the German railroads. Still, some might think worth the trouble to take the road through Anatolia and Iran instead, if the tolls were too high. No, it was better to leave them alone unless Waldenburg refused to share tax income in Madagascar.
‘’How many ships do we have in Africa, von Tirpitz? Enough to patrol the Mozambique Channel, I hope.’’
‘’A handful, mostly torpedo boats and destroyers; most of our battle cruisers are stationed in Arabia. They will do their duty, whatever is required of them. How so, Chancellor?’’
‘’Their duties might be extended in the near future, Alfred. I will notify you if they are.’’
‘’And you, von Moltke,’’ said the Reichskanzler, turning to the chief of staff, who had stood silent ‘til now.

[Snip. Post was getting too long. Will add more some other time. Nothing that will cause any great concern to the rest of you anyways.]




As natural neighbor's The Warsaw Confederacy and the German Empire have always been close. We are held together with undeniable bounds, and in this most gloomful hour, these ties are ever exhibited. Let it be known that your tears are shared, and we too grieve for your Kaiser. Royal blood must prevail. We cannot let Kingdoms or Empires of old vanish in the night. Anarchical acts such as these must therefore be punish, and I assure you my dear friends, they will be, whatever the cost.

In hope for the Kaiser's recovery.

The Suurherttua of Warsaw.

We thank our brother of the Confederacy of Warsaw for their sympathy and support in these dire times.



Concerning taxation rights in the strait of Mozambique
The situation in the Channel of Mozambique, separating Madagascar from the African mainland, is a most peculiar one indeed. The state of Germany, while possessing the territories on the mainland, does not control enough of the coast of Madagascar to make any rightful claim to the right of taxation. Neither does the Empire of Waldenburg whose mainland colonies are situated too far from the island of Madagascar to claim lordship over the waters in between.
We therefore propose a mutual agreement on the question of rights of taxation in the Channel. We propose that the right of taxation not be split between our two empires, but that it may be shared. We shall have mutual sovereignty of the waters between Madagascar and Africa, and we shall both tax travellers in the strait. All incomes shall be split equally between our two crowns.
A mutually agreed upon tax shall be enforced by both our countries, and we agree to not tax ships flying the colours of either of our two great nations.


OOC: Response to TI will come in the next post, the prince's corronation will be in the next post. Waldenburg's offer of service will be addressed in next post.

He watched. He waited. What else could he do? Far removed from the affairs of central Europe, the Illar were unconcerned, unbothered by the ramifications of this. Or so it seemed.

But aware of the effects, however, they most certainly were. War loomed on the horizon. True war, not the petty squabbles that had marked the last century. And the Illar knew that, should war come, they would be forced to the fight. So, slowly, warily, they began to prepare. The Emperor himself, the first to give true orders for half a century, would lead the preparation.

The aggression they displayed against the Germans would never have come to light, admittedly, without the death of their Kaiser. The Illar are a race of merchants and shopkeepers, it has been said. And, like shopkeepers, they are always keeping their eyes open, to take advantage of what they could. With the Kaiser fallen, and a new one atop the throne.. what advantages could they wring from the Germans in this time of turmoil? It remained to be seen, of course. But word had it that the Germans were building their navy up, too. From Waldenburg to Anj, to, no doubt, far-away Bautzen, the Illar had begun an arms race, of sorts. And it was one they could win.

For now, of course, they had waited for some time, before reacting. And now they knew of the Kaiser's death, there was only one appropriate response.

We grieve for the loss of our dearly beloved fellow-monarch, Kaiser Frederick the Fourth. Words cannot express our grief at this terrible occasion. Know that the Empire stands ready to aid German investigation to find and punish the perpetrator of this terrible crime, should it be required.

Signed, Alutius V, King of Illar



The Emperor, in this, spoke truly, and humbly, too. Without the ostentatious titles that marked him, merely as the King of Illar, from one European monarch to another. And there was grief - where nations might fall upon one another, monarchs were far more rarely enemies, and, furthermore, where one monarch has fallen, might not another?

Of course, while you can speak of peace, one must also prepare for war. The telegram had been sent, across the lines through the Atlantic - and the Fleet of the Americas was being pulled back home. The Fleet of Africa, likewise. India and Suez remained where they were, however, should it come to war, they must not be unprepared.

Ships could be moved, for 'repairs', without overly provoking any reaction. Troops could not be raised, though, and nor would the Illar raise troops for some time, despite the consequences. But Alutius was worried. Greatly. Should the Germans choose to act, the entire continent would be engulfed in war. Should they not, they would lose their prestige, in exchange for peace.. it remained to be seen what the Germans would do.

He nervously rubbed his hands together, looking at the latest reports from the Exchequer. There was still money - and plenty of it, although the dreadnoughts were certainly cutting into the budget. Perhaps they'd have to raise taxes through the Suez Canal, to afford his proposed expansions.. or, on the other hand, it would certainly be easier to simply stop the Germans taxing him in Aden, but such a move, as he had proposed, could lead to war.

It was worrisome. The Council would present to him their budget, and, most likely, he would approve it. And then, of course, they would discuss military matters. He thought on this for a moment, and sighed. As the Germans did not challenge the Imperial Navy, nor did he try to match the Landwehr. He could raise up an army massive within an instant, should he find need, and training men now could only provoke things further.

Relaxing, he hoped his decision would not be one he was to regret later on.

From: His Majestic Highness, King James III of Bautzen;
To: The Princes and People of the German Empire,

It is with much sorrow that I received the news of the great Kaisar's pasing. I would like to personally convey the condolences of myself and my government to the People and Princes of the German Empire. We hope that the Crown Prince should be as wise and just a ruler as his father, and hope that he learns quickly, and brings stability to his country.

OOC: Incidently, we would frown heavily on your stepping up of tarriffs in the Suez, as that is the quickest way to my colonial posessions. Which I might add you haven't gotten around to aprroving yet. It might even iritate me enough to drive me to the Rome Treaty Alliance.

From: His Majestic Highness, King James III of Bautzen;

OOC: Incidently, we would frown heavily on your stepping up of tarriffs in the Suez, as that is the quickest way to my colonia posessions. It might even iritate me enough to drive me to the Rome Treaty Alliance.

ooc: you do realize, do you not, that doing so would screw you on numerous fronts, have little or no effect on Germany, AND the Illar aren't raising taxes, they're proposing lowering them for the Germans?

you're probably better off, given your current diplomatic state, to go with the Illar on this one.

edit: not to mention i didn't notice which thread i was looking at and this is totally off topic. oops

ooc: you do realize, do you not, that doing so would screw you on numerous fronts, have little or no effect on Germany, AND the Illar aren't raising taxes, they're proposing lowering them for the Germans?

you're probably better off, given your current diplomatic state, to go with the Illar on this one.

edit: not to mention i didn't notice which thread i was looking at and this is totally off topic. oops

OOC: Nice, lol. And I never said I was going to, but you have to remember that my nation relies on the Bosphorous Straights, the Straight of Gibralter, and the Suez Canal. So I can be kind of anal when I think someone's going to drive up taxes going through there. My mentioning of the RTA is more posturing in reality.

Telegram From: Gerhard Hanning Acting Foreign Minister Waldenburg
To: The German Empire

This seems a good idea, I'm sure both our nations need this money. However at this point in time I doubt it wise to declare such a thing. It surely shall upset the Illarian Empire something which Waldenburg does not wish to do at this moment in time. However we shall keep this proposition in the front of our minds for the upcoming year and indeed within the year we shall ratify a treaty but not just now.

Signed:
Gerhard Hanning Acting Foreign Minister

Lights. Music. The divine light of the sun, shining over all of the German Empire this glorious day, let its golden shroud of light gently clothe the hair of the young regent as the Archbishop of Munich placed the royal crown upon his young head. The royal purpure, the coat of ermine and the sword and scepter. He was emperor of Germany, succeeding his father as Kaiser Frederick V of Germany. Everything was going to plan, though the Machiavellian chancellor. The young regent, barely nineteen years of age, weak of mind and with more interest in country matters, as Hamlet punned to poor Ophelia, than in the affairs of the state, would be easy for the experienced politician to control. She did not think, said Ophelia. Neither did the young emperor. He would be easy to control.
The coronation was followed by a great ball, as usual; the elite of the German society; the burghers, the gargantuans of German finance that moved without the grace of the nobles but with much more economic forcefulness in the waltz of Germany; the nobility; the lingering remnants of an era, dancing with the stoic dignity that became them in that the dusk of their era. Even as the sun, like the star of the feudal era of Germany, slowly sank behind the horizon, leaving an ever-lingering light just above that distant rim, they danced.

Otto did not dance. He was neither of the burghers nor of the nobles, neither morning nor evening star. He stood above such things he said to himself, the petty politics of Germany, for his mission, his divine mission in life as a Hohenzollern and a German, was not to squabble about the taxes of Elsass, the appointment of governors in far off Arabia. His mission was to lead Germany to greatness and now, liberated from the restraining leash of Frederick IV, and with the young fifth on the throne, he would succeed. His thoughts wandered wearily down the gloomy cobblestone roads of his mind, haunted by stalking shadows, pursued by the Caesarian hounds of war that ravaged any undaunted strider in these dark times. The wanderer fled, pursued and haunted still. Willows lined the road now, menacing and hostile in their foreboding silent darkness. Lost, bruised and battered by flight, the faceless wanderer clung to a mighty oak as Otto gathered his thoughts.
No taxes for Illar ships in the Gate of Tears, and halved taxes for German ships passing through the Canal of Suez. Illar ships were the main source of income in German Arabia, and no such reduction could be made. The colonies would be starved to death of an income, reducing the pride of the German colonial empire to nothing more than an unnecessary expenditure. The naval expansion would have to be aborted; no more dreadnoughts could be sustained by the German economy if robbed of this source of income. It would be impossible to lower the fees.
Yet, war with the Illar Empire could not be pursued; not now, when the Swiss connection with the regicide of the late Emperor Frederick had not been properly examined. And the caught traitors had yet to be executed and the Swiss connection revealed to the world. Further, the resources of the Illar were abundant and far in excess of those of Germany. There could be no winning a war with the Illar. Germany would have to cede.
Still, Germany needed its money. No army, no pride of Germany and no diplomatic power could be had without the financial means to back it. Increased funding of the industries perhaps? No, the long term benefits would be well worth the initial expense, but that was not what was needed. Germany did not need money in five years, or even two; it needed money now. Increased exports? No, that would leave Germany wanting for resources spread around the globe when the war came. But perhaps the answer was similar. Germany was one of the world’s leading steal and oil producing countries. Increased prices might give the German government the money needed, perhaps not enough to finance the planned expansion of the Kriegsmarine’s dreadnought fleets, but well enough to secure its place as a leading nation in Europe. It was a short term solution however, the prices could not be inflated continuously, but it would do for now. A long term replacement could be sought after the war with Switzerland.
He would have to discuss it with the young emperor.

---

The officer, Wilhelm, a simple official who did not care for politics, did not hold any interest in the cloak and dagger games of the social elite, simply received the passports, let a tired and apathetic eye most hastily rest upon the pictures and the names of the two businessmen before he handed it back. Just as the man took the leather clad passport between his finger and his thumb, Wilhelm awoke fully.
‘’Sir, may I see that again?’’ he said, fetching the passport.
‘’Heinrich, could you take a look here?’’ he asked of his companion.
‘’This year’s blue, is it not?’’
‘’It is,’’ replied Heinrich.
‘’Sirs, I’m awfully sorry, but your passports are simply not valid. They should have been stamped the last of November. I’m terribly sorry, sirs, but I cannot let you pass. You can get new passports in Schwerin or Rostock. You can take the railroad from here and to Rostock and back, and your journey will not be delayed for more than a few hours.’’

Carl had been under too much tension. For days, perhaps weeks, they had been working at the highest level of stress, with every detail potentially crucial, every action checked and triple-checked.
After the assassination, that had only intensified - after all, the resources of the Kaiserreich were now in search of him and his companions. The fearsome security apparatus of the German Empire...and there was no-one they'd like to find more, right now, than Carl and his friends.
And to have come so close, so close to safety, before it all went wrong!
Even as Gustav began making all the right noises, about 'how sorry we are, we don't regularly travel abroad you see, these things get overlooked' Carl snapped.
He had never had a pistol, and if he had he would have disposed of it before trying to cross the border. However...he had a knife "in case of trouble". Gustav had not demurred, as it made Carl happier, and didn't seem to add much risk...
Carl slipped his knife out from under his coat, and slashed at Wilhelm, before immediately moving on Heinrich, still swinging the wickedly sharp blade.
Gustav stood; the same factors that made Carl explode into violence made him freeze, unable to act. He would be lost in horrors of his own making (not least newspaper photographs of the street scene after the bomb blast) for some minutes, in all likelihood.

Carl, if he got past the two officials, would run as far, and as fast as he could. This, for a not very fit forty year old man, dressed as a businessman, probably wouldn't be that long a distance...

====Message to Kaiser Frederik Frederick IV Hohenzollern====

Dear Kaiser,

Cyprus, being a small island in the mediterranian, is running short on allies, In such a world with many Great Empires, it currently seems that Cyprus would not stand any chance of invasion, so I offer you my nations small, but patriotic amred forces of 20 000, I hope you accept, As Cyprus would like some land on the mainland of Europe, I have spoken to my officers, and they report that my soliders are eager to work with yours on the battlefield. I hope to make more business with you again,

The best of luck,

Wilhelm screamed in pain and horror as the flash of cold steel cut across his face, carving a blood red forage path. He dropped his rifle, his hands clasping his face in pain. Heinrich swung his rifle, the serrated bayonet mounted, at the assailant as he dashed across the street towards him.
Meanwhile, in those few precious moments, Wilhelm had regained his calm and picked up his rifle. He hit Gustav in the stomach with the rifle butt, and then took aim at the back of the man who had attack him. He fired.
All of this occurred in a few seconds, the crack of the rifle rang out like the exclamation mark to the sudden and violent events.

---

FROM The Imperial Government of The German Empire
TO The Empire of Waldenburg

His Majesty Frederick V wishes to make it clear that our neighbours and good friends, the noble nation of Waldenburg, has our full support in the defence of their interest against Jagadan expansion in Scandinavia.
His Majesty can assure you that he will not sit idly by while the sphere of interest of Waldenburg is ignored, nor will he tolerate that the balance of power in the Baltic and North Sea region be upset by this policy of unlawful expansionism.
The Nation of Waldenburg can count on our full support.



FROM The Imperial Government of The German Empire
TO The Nation of Caxistan

His Majesty Frederick V sees that the tension in Europe has unfortunately only increased following his ascension to the throne. He also sees, and is saddened by this, that, should war come to Europe, Caxistan and Germany may very well find themselves on opposite sides. This will only lead to needless bloodshed and the devastation of both our countries.
Not wishing it to be so, His Majesty wishes to insure Caxistan that he will not take any course of action that will threaten Caxistan sovereignty or independence, nor will he in any way infringe upon the sphere of interest of Caxistan.
His Majesty would like Caxistan to confirm their peaceful intentions, by promising not to go to war with Germany, should the peace that God has bestowed upon Europe be broken.
Peace is a very dear thing to His Majesty, and he would very much like to see that it is also dear to the people of Caxistan.

Kaiser Frederick of Germany


FROM The Imperial Government of The German Empire
TO The Anj Reich

His Majesty Frederick V looks back upon the history of our two noble nations, he sees peace and prosperity, but he is saddened and grim to see also mutual hostility. He acknowledges that German refusal to recognize Anj claims to certain province sunder Anj control plays no little role in this. He also recognizes that the idea of a threat from the Northeast has not played an unimportant part in the policy of Germany.
Wishing to be rid of this mutual antagonism and that ensuring peace in Europe forever more shall reign; His Majesty wishes to make this offer to the Anj people:
That the German Empire shall recognize Anj claims to its three easternmost provinces, and pledges to make no move and nor take any course of action that undermines Anj dominion and lordship over those provinces.
In return, the Anj Reich must pledge not to attack Germany, should war ever sweep across the world. No hostile actions against Germany shall be taken, and no malevolent enterprise shall be undertaken.

Kaiser Frederick of Germany



FROM The Imperial Government of The German Empire
TO The Illar Empire

After long consideration of all possible options, His Majesty Kaiser Frederick of Germany, advised by the Reichstag and his most trusted Regierung, has come to the conclusion that the agreement proposed by the Illar Empire, that German ships shall pass through Suez whilst paying only half taxes, and Illar ships through Bab-al-Mandeb whilst paying no taxes, would be mutually beneficial. He therefore accepts your proposal.
His majesty wishes to make it clear though, that he does not in any way relinquish his claims of dominion over the Gate of Tears, nor does he recognize the claims of the Illar over the Suez Canal as any more valid than those of Germany over the Gate.


The Imperial Government today announced that the export price of oil and steel shall rise by 5 per cent by the end of the month, in order to make up for the loss of tax income in the Gate of Tears in German Arabia.
The concession, the Reichkanzler says, should not be viewed as such, but rather a step towards European stability and mutual prosperity. This reporter remains wary.

Gustav fell heavily to the floor, clutching at his stomach; winded, he was going nowhere fast, and could only watch in horror as Wilhelm took aim, and fired at Carl...
who fell, a splash of bright red blood spurting from him, in a horrifying way that showed he would shortly be dead, the scarlet arterial blood pumping in surges with his heart.
Screaming, he tried to clutch at his shoulder with his right hand, and gazed at the blood flowing between his fingers.
That was when Carl truly realised he was going to die. But, that thought made him free. For he had feared death, feared torture and execution. And now all he faced was a little more pain before he blacked out, and swiftly died.
He spared one last thought for Gustav, then dismissed him as an ally of convenience, at best.
Gustav...gibbering might cover it. Incoherent. Unable to be understood, perhaps even by himself. Still breathless from his winding. With absolutely no way of escaping it...and no way to commit suicide, which he realised now he would take if he could.
Well, he could only hope he knew enough to tell, that his life might be spared.
He knew in his heart though, that that was not the case, and that he would be executed by a vengeful Reich.

FROM The Imperial Government of The German Empire
TO The Anj Reich

His Majesty Frederick V looks back upon the history of our two noble nations, he sees peace and prosperity, but he is saddened and grim to see also mutual hostility. He acknowledges that German refusal to recognize Anj claims to certain province sunder Anj control plays no little role in this. He also recognizes that the idea of a threat from the Northeast has not played an unimportant part in the policy of Germany.
Wishing to be rid of this mutual antagonism and that ensuring peace in Europe forever more shall reign; His Majesty wishes to make this offer to the Anj people:
That the German Empire shall recognize Anj claims to its three easternmost provinces, and pledges to make no move and nor take any course of action that undermines Anj dominion and lordship over those provinces.
In return, the Anj Reich must pledge not to attack Germany, should war ever sweep across the world. No hostile actions against Germany shall be taken, and no malevolent enterprise shall be undertaken.

Kaiser Frederick of Germany

"so, what do you think of this, Darthenj?" Lux waved the telegram in the defense general's general direction.

"mostly that it's a ploy and not to be trusted."

"i'm leaning that way myself. even if it is not, we can't agree to it. our other alliances, with nations that are actually friendly, no less, look set to act contrary to it. and i will not have the Reich known for breaking it's word." he paused a moment, realizing that at some point he had begun pacing his office. deliberately sitting down at his desk once more, the Reichgone continued. " you will note that even in this private missive, they don't really accept our sovereignty over our own lands? listen 'German refusal to recognize Anj claims to certain provinces under Anj control'. can you believe that? not 'certain provinces of the Anj Reich' nor 'certain of your provinces' but 'provinces under Anj control'! the man writes as though we took them from another by force! as if we occupied them against the will of their own people. feh."

Lux sent the telegram skimming across his desk, where it fell to the floor on the far side "all is in readiness for the inevitable, i take it?"

"yes, sir. the cavalry divisions have been rotated into the north, and the infantry guard the other borders at key points. we are as ready for anything as we could be without knowing exactly what we're preparing for. "

"very good."

From: the fogien office, Anj Reich
To: the Government of the German Empire

we shall not bargen for what is already ours, and has ever been so. offer what you will in good faith. nor can we agree to such nonsensical demands as the garantee requested. what ruler in his right mind would throw away long standing alliances with close friends of good standing in favour of a shaky and tense peace with an old enemy? an enemy, mind, who is afraid of that ruler's nation, and suffereing from internal unrest?

do not mistake the Reich for cowards, nor it's leaders for fools.

you wish a more solid peace with the Reich? renouce all claims to the Reich's terititory as in error. shift your focus to sectors other than war. show good faith. make no more foolish and unforfilable demands, however they may be guised. perhaps then, after some years of peace, with greater threats looming, we may be friends. for now, you remain a threat, and a danger, hostile in every way short actual invasion.

consider your offer rejected.

(signed) Reichgone Albert Lux, Ruler of the Anj Reich and all it's colonial possessions.

A prison in Germany:
It was cold and dark. A large rat dashed across the stone floor towards a wooden bowl of soup. It was mostly water, with some potatoes and half-rotten meat thrown in, more because it wasn’t needed anywhere than out of concern for the prisoner. The rat suddenly stood up on its hind leg; its whiskers trembling anxiously in the air, its ears trying to discern some distant sound. Hearing some far-off horror, it hurried back into the small crack in the wall from which it came.
Heavy leather boots hitting against the floor of the corridor. Two soldiers were marching towards the prison cell where Gustav was held captive. The guard saluted them, and unlocked the door. The small arrow of light pierced the darkness inside, awakening Gustav. He sat, still half asleep and confused, in the corner. Weak from malnourishment and isolation, he did not resist as the soldiers picked him up and dragged him out of the cell and across the rough stone corridor towards the court room.

---

Gustav was being led down a corridor by two guards. At the far end of the corridor was a sturdy wooden door. Oak, as far as he could tell. The door was ajar, a small ray of sunlight finding its way into the dark passageway. He could hear the ardent shouting of the gathered crowd. They called for his death.
He had stood trial only a few days ago, and had been found guilty of regicide and treason. He had been made to sign a document detailing the evens which had led up to the assassination; their gathering by a Swiss intelligence officer, the preparations, the journey to Stuttgart, the assassination and their attempted escape. He had given and confirmed the names of his compatriots. Most of the document had been revealed to the public; only the role of the Swiss intelligence service had been omitted.
As he was led to the execution grounds, the cheering and shouting of the crowd intensified; cheering at his death and outrage at the heinous nature of his crime. A blindfold was wrapped around his head, covering his eyes so he would not see the execution squad. He was offered a last cigarette but declined; he did not smoke. He was asked of his last words; but was silent.
The officer raised his sabre, crying for the men to aim their rifles. He glanced just once at the group of men at his side before bringing his saber down in a slashing motion.
Amongst the five members of the execution squad was the border guard who had captured Gustav and shot his companion. He had been honoured with the Medal of the Order of Red Eagle, which he proudly carried upon the chest of his new uniform. He had been given the honour of being part of the execution squad, at his own request.
As the sabre came down, five shots crashed in unison. An attending doctor rushed forward to examine the corpse, making sure that Gustav was dead. After gently pressing his fingers agains tthe side of the man's throat, he nodded towards the officer who approached the corpse with sabre in hand. He grabbed the corpse by the hair, and with one mighty blow severed the head from the body.
The head was to be mounted on a pike for public display, as a reminder that regicide and anarchism do not go unpunished in Germany.

OOC: Finally!
I'll see if I can do something about that dreadful business 'tween Jagaro and Waldenburg tomorrow.
I'll get back to you, TI, about the conference.

With Gustav's death, the Government School of Codes and Cyphers (or those parts of it, at least, which had any knowledge of the plot) breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and closed the book on one of the most complex, elaborate and risky operations they had ever planned, let alone executed.

The operation itself had been stunningly successful. The cut-offs had, indeed, insulated Incognitia from suspicion, let alone making the whole thing deniable.
Equally, while it had been given only a slim chance that the Kaiser would actually die, that had successfully been achieved. The effect on Incognitian affairs of Otto running the show...there was guarded optimism. The man was a pragmatist. He wanted Germany to be great, indeed, but he was prepared to consider his options of how to get there carefully. The old King, on the other hand, had been fixated on the traditional enemies.

However, the ultimate aim of the mission, had been to instigate war between Switzerland and Germany, permitting Germany to be crushed by a combination of all the other Great Powers. As there had been no mention of Swiss involvement, it appeared that Otto did not intend to act, openly at least, against Switzerland.
This was a mixed blessing. The Anj would be twitchy at the fact Germany was going to survive, intact. But Incognitia had never wanted a war...just wanted to ensure that if one was coming, they would win it, as swiftly, convincingly and bloodlessly as possible.
That still applied, and any situation used right, could be turned to advantage.