NationStates Jolt Archive

ENCRYPTED COMMUNIQUE:

Admiral Bertrille Faccina

Admiral,

Caesar has instructed me to commence negotiations with a representative of the Nitalian government as soon as possible regarding this situation. Any details regarding the return of Nitalian military personnel in our captivity and Nitalian naval vessels taken as prizes by the Imperium will be handled within negotiations. I am requesting that a representative of the Nitalian government be immediately dispatched to Casablanca in order to commence negotiations with myself so that a swift resolution may be brought about to this situation.

-Dux Octavius Fidelis, Governor of Morocco

The captured Nitalian naval vessels in question were towed by Imperial Navy vessels to ports in Algeria for internment. A massive scene was made of it, with dozens of reporters being allowed aboard each captured vessel, filming every inch of the vessels (especially parts that the Nitalians wouldn't like foreign reporters snooping around in) while interviewing the Imperial Marines and sailors that had taken possession of the vessels. It was a massive propaganda coup for the Imperium.

Meanwhile, the Nitalian prisoners of war were all taken to the port of Tangier. There the captives were paraded through the streets of the city in chains to the city's fortress-prison before enourmous crowds that had turned out to the occasion. Like the others, this was a heavily filmed event. Indeed, these Nitalians were most fortunate that their government was willing to negotiate for them. There was nothing more the people of Tangier wanted to see than a nice public execution of foreign infidels- preferably using a method as painful and horrifying as physically possible for the victim.

Nitalian enlisted personnel were crammed in tiny 5x5 foot cells, with six to seven prisoners to each cell being chained to the walls, while officers were placed in isolation cells. For many of them, their cells had windows overlooking the city itself, which lay right on the straight, giving them a brilliant view of the wreckage of the allied fleet.

Response to Jarrida's declaration of surrender:
For now there is nothing we can say to you except that we are horrified that your men, your people, died for nothing. Perhaps soon we can discuss things again rationally, but many people within our nation are hurting to much to do so. I'm sure you understand the feeling.

-TLA homeland-
The news of the cease-fire hit the nation hard, with the surrender of the main combatant further efforts were meaningless. The population was enraged, many had begun to feel a kinship to the ViZion's suffering, therefore a sudden surrender was seen as stab to the heart. When Doomingland released the news reports of the captured ships came it simply added insult to injury, if Doomingland wasn't an enemy of the Lone Alliance before, they would forever be one now.

Secret IC:
The TLA reserve options...
The reserve options were the less savory actions that would only be released upon desperation or massive vengence, collateral damage, morals, everything was tossed out the window for a reserve option. In short, The Lone Alliance reserve option was pure terrorism. But against a nation like Doomingland, they still had better morals than their enemy. As for Doomingland, there were 3 options, each more horrifying than the previous. And each of them effectively free of any sort of connection.

-???-
In a simple dark room option one was going over their plans.
"Simple, pick an ally of theirs, sneak in, find some Doomingland citizens, and kill them, plain and simple." Said the first, a man known only as Xer.
"A better idea would be mass arson," said a second, known only a Palm.
"You always choose fire," Xer said.
"You know what I like," said the last one, 'Rad'.
"Dirty bombs of course." Palm responded.
"Too extreme." Xer said.
"Well we'll have to decide if we get chosen." Palm said.
"Indeed, if we get chosen." Xer finished.

-Open Alantic-
~Victor class sub~
The captain of the special sub fleet sat on the bridge discussing with the rest of his higher officers "If we can get the sucide subs another 100 miles they will be ready for anything, we can shutdown the first tons of shipping they can pull in, without them being able to do a damn thing about it, what's more there is no risk to ourselves."
"We just need the command."

-210 miles from Doomingland Morocco-
A massive supertanker had been moving slowly northward from the Equator since the beginning of the conflict, it did indeed carry oil as it's cargo, but this oil was not meant to ever reach the shore in it's container, indeed, the final reserve option was to contaminate entire Doomingland Morocco coast with an oil slick like no other, destroying trade, fishing, and causing immense tourism and commercial traffic loss as well as causing immense enviromental destruction. It was ingenius, if someone attacks, the ship sinks and the oil spills, if someone boards, the ship scuttles and the oil spills. They could effectively hold an entire coastline hostage. All they needed was the order.

OOC:TLA brings new meaning to the word 'sore loser'.

Skies over the Atlantic

~ " Polls are calling it the " Greatest Military Blunder" in Nitalian history. With the capture of thirteen of the Holy Imperial Republic's ships as well as hundreds of naval personnel by the Imperium, the Nitalian people are on the verge of becomming a country-wide riot."

The Nueve Italian International Broadcasting Company reporter continued on, citing various details of the war, the Nitalian involvement, as well as their defeat at Gibraltar. It was a horrible blow, both militarily and approval-wise, for the Republic.

" We have just recieved word that Emperor Antonio Orsini Gori is making a statement. We now go live to the Palace of Cítta Santo."

The screen flickered, and then showed a rather thin man in a plain, black suit sitting behind an ebony table. His eyes showed signs of restless nights, and his expression was both worn and grim. Slowly, he began,

" People of the Republic, I come to you tonight to inform you that the coalition has, indeed, withdrawn. There will be no further efforts to free the state of ViZion from Doomani rule, nor will any more Nitalians die for this cause. I have been informed that the Imperium is willing to negotiate for the return of many of our brave sailors, and already we have dispatched an ambassador to decide on the terms that our citzen soldiers will return."

He paused for a minute, tugged at his tie, and cleared his throat as softly as he could. Antonio picked up again,

" To the citizens of Nueve Italia: fear not. We have lost far much more before, and yet, we are still here. We stood together on the brink of extinction, and we are still here. Whatever tomorrow brings, we shall stand together and face it as one people. I assure you all, our men and women will be coming home. God Bless the Republic, and God Bless Nueve Italia."

The screen blacked out as Ambassador Amedea Onssi turned off her laptop and settled in for the landing. She was sent almost immediately when Admiral Faccina had sent the message back to Antonio, and she was eager to get this over with quickly. Amedea had been instructed to get back every single soldier by any means possible, and that any warship gotten back would only be an added bonus: the real purpose was to save the Nitalian sailors from a fate worse than death.

The streaming broadcast she had been receiving only served to inspire her further. Amedea knew that there would be rioting for days if she failed, and that she could not allow to happen. Peering out of her window, she saw that her small plane was finally making a descent, and the airstrip below looked barren. Amedea Onssi knew not what welcome party was going to be waiting for her, but alas, she had no choice.

The plane jostled the ambassador around in her seat a bit as it hit the pavement hard, but it slowed down relatively smoothly before finally halting at the end of the runway.

She adjusted her thin glasses, tucked a loose strand of dark brown hair that had fallen in front of her behind her ear, and fixed her suit jacket when she stood.

Finally, she strode towards the front of the jet as the door opened, layering stairs before her. Taking each step deliberately, she looked where she was going until she touched the tarmac, and then rose her head to face whatever was there to greet her ...~

Casablanca Air Force Base, Morocco

The Nitalian ambassador's plane touched down at around noon local time. The sun was shining brightly in the sky; heat reverberated off of the smoldering hot tarmac. Immediately a boarding ramp was rolled up to the entrance of the plane and a red carpet unfurled at the base. Either side of the ambassador's path was flanked by the Equites Singulares, the Dux's personal guard.

Clad in polished gold-trimmed black ceremonial armor, the 12" bayonets mounted to the end of their DR-83M rifles glistened in the sun. To the side of the aircraft, a band struck up the Nitalian national anthem. At the end of the red carpet stood an Imperial delegation, clad in black dress uniforms, standing before a convertable limoseine.

Behind his aviator sunglasses, Tribune Varus Regius rolled his eyes at the sight of the Nitalian.

No wonder we crushed them so easily; infidels seem to love to put women in positions of importance these days, he thought to himself as he approached the ambassador, a warm smile on his face.

Taking her hand, he kissed it and spoke in a booming voice,

"Welcome to Cassablanca, ambassador. I am Tribune Varus Regius, aid to the Dux. If you will come with me we shall make haste to his palace and get these negotiations underway," he said in accented Nitalian.

It was not a difficult language for a Doomani to learn, their native language being Latin.

Casablanca Air Force Base, Morocco

~ Amedea saw the expression Varus gave her when she first stepped off the plane, and did well in hiding her immediate disdain for the man, even with all the pomp and circumstance abound.

Typical. These people still believe in the fraility of women ...

Ruffled, but not without poise, Ambassador Onssi decided to keep quiet, giving the aid only a slight nod in agreement to his wanting to get her to the Palace as quickly as possible.

The smugness around her, the sense of superiority from the aid, from the gurads ... it irritated her to the core. The Nitalian people had seen their fair share of hardship. They saw their very home wiped off the face of the earth by nuclear, chemical, and biological weaponry. Now, before Ademea, there was a group of people believing themselves to be better than her and her countrymen?

Just get through the negotiations: get our soldiers home ...

She made her way over to the vehicle, where the driver immediately opened the door for her. Stepping in, she sat silently, focused on what she must do, as the black door silently closed and latched itself shut.~

Dux's Palace, Morocco

The limo arrived at the Dux's palace after a short twenty minute drive. The palace itself was nothing short of a fortress, one resembling something from antiquity in grandeur. The walls of the fortress were lined with marble, causing it to appear as if it were glowing in the sun. The limo drove through several armored gates before pulling up to the main entrance of the citadel, located within an ornate courtyard consisting of countless statues and gardens.

The ambassador was quickly led up an enourmous set of marble stairs into the main hall of the palace. It, like the rest of the fortress, was highly ornate; everything was either carved of marble or some precious mineral. Gold and silver was generously applied throughout the chamber in an artistic manner. The cieling of the main hall featured a massive painting of Christ's ascention into Heaven.

After being lead through several other similarly decorated chambers and halls, the ambassador eventually arrived in the conference room. At the end of an oaken table sat Dux Octavius Fidelis, a sturdily built man of about sixty years in age. The man was clearly a soldier as evidenced by the way the man moved and his reserved manner, and of course the scars on his face. He had, in fact, been awarded with governorship of Morocco from his conduct on the battlefield and superior generalship, having served under Caesar in Czardas and Kahanistan.

Standing, he greeted the ambassador as his aid had,

"Welcome to my home, ambassador. I am Dux Octavius Fidelis, governor of this province. Let us get down to business, shall we?"

Dux's Palace, Morocco

~ The Christian references adorning the palace made Amedea Onssi wonder quite a bit about the Doomani.

If we're both devout followers of Christ, then why is it they see us as inferior?

Still, she was impressed at the decor and architecture of the place. The Grand Place on Isola D'Argenta was possibly the only thing that could have rivaled the mastery that was obviously displayed in the craftsmanship of the edifice.

Amedea held out her hand towards the Dux, and gave him one, firm shake.

" Yes, let's. My name is Amedea Onssi; Greetings Dux Fidelis."

She paused for a second to look the governor over. He was old, to be sure, but extremely well-kept: his physique showed right through the years. Military of some sort ...

Amedea herself had actually been an Intelligence Officer of Nueve Italian Special Operations Command before being appointed as an Ambassdor. While she didn't partake in direct combat, she was, at one point in her life, considered both a spy and an assassin. However, the past was simply that at the moment.

" Firstly, let me begin by once again thanking you for rescuing and sparing the lives of those soldiers. You have our entire nation's gratitude for this act. However, I have been instructed to leave here today with the freedom of every single one of those men and women as well."

Her voice seemed to be supported by steel: the resolve she showed in her last sentence was clear to all, and it was her intention to make sure that not one Nitalian family got a letter home that their son or daughter wasn't making it back ...~

Dux's Palace, Morocco

His face conveyed no emotion as she spoke; though he disliked this whole diplomatic end of the job, it was, on occasion, interesting. He generally viewed his counterparts as nothing short of opponents. As such, he always made sure to study his opponent carefully; this one appeared to be formiddable, despite her being a member of the weaker sex.

Seemingly robotically, he spoke in an unnerving monotone,

"I see. Then your job today is a simple one, ambassador, for my government is prepared to offer the release of not only every single one of your personnel, but the detained ships," he stared directly into the eyes of the diplomat before looking down at a document on the table before him,

"In return for some...concessions on the part of your government."

One of his uniformed aids placed a copy of the document, this one written in Nitalian, before Ambassador Onssi.

"Term number one: The Government of Nueve Italia shall pay, in full, a total sum of five trillion denarii to the Imperium Doomanum in reparations for damages caused.

"Term number two: the Government of Nueve Italia shall acknowledge the territory once belonging to the former nation of ViZion currently occupied by the Imperium Doomanum as lawfully belonging to the Imperium Doomanum.

"Term number three: the Government of Nueve Italia shall make no further aggressive actions towards the Imperium Doomanum.

"Term number four: the Emperor of Nueve Italia shall publicly apologize to the Senate, People, and Imperator of Doomanum for his actions against the Imperium.

"And, the final term, number five: the Imperium Doomanum shall release all Nitalian personnel currently detained by the Imperium as well as all Nitalian Navy vessels taken as prizes by the Imperium."

He looked back up from the document and relaxed in his seat, staring across the table at the rival diplomat. It was her move.

Dux's Palace, Morocco

~ Most of the terms in the document were things that the Nitalian government would agree to. However, there was one, slight problem that Amedea was not about to let go.

" You have my word, which is now the word of the Nitalian government and its peoples, that there will be no further military aggression against the Imperium, and that the currently Doomani-occupied territories known as ViZion will be, henceforth, recognized as territory of the Imperium. I cannot speak for what the Emperor will do, but I would like to make one observance in this document."

She straightened out her glasses again and propped herself up in her chair as she took the terms in her hand and glanced down at them non-chalantly. She continued,

" Term One will be disputed by both myself and the Nitalian government. No Nitalian weapon was ever fired at Doomani forces or fortifications. Therefore, there would be no need for reparations on account of damages inflicted by the En-Eye-Eye-En against the Imperium. This sum, five trillion denarii, is therefore void, for there are no damages against your forces which the Nueve Italian Imperial Navy was responsible for."

She let the paper fall gently back down to the table, but hid all her facial expressions: she merely continued to gaze at the Dux. She knew that negotiations such as this were almost like a game of chess: it was a matter of manuevering into the best position with which to checkmate the opponent as quickly as possible. Amedea politely folded her hands together on the table, her face a stone.

Check ...~

Dux's Palace, Morocco

"Then it would seem our business here is done, Ambassador," replied the Dux, standing to show her out.

"If you will not meet our most generous terms, then there is nothing here to discuss. Good day."

He motioned towards the door for her to leave.

It was all quite simple. If the Nitalians would not pay the proper sum, their men would be slaughtered before their eyes on television. It had been done before; Kahanistani senators were butchered en masse in the arena for the amusement of the masses following that conquest. Everything suggested that the Doomani were fully willing to do the same to the Nitalians.

The Nitalian seemed to have pushed a bit too far a bit too early all in all.

Check...

Dux's Palace, Morocco

~ Amedea had underestimated that sense of superiority that she loathed so much from the Doomani. Apparently, it was their terms, or nothing, and, unfortunately, Nueve Italia couldn't do anything about it.

She knew that if she left just because of a matter of pride, she would condemn those soldiers to execution. Inside, she sighed, but she still retained a dis-passionate face.

" Well then, Dux," she began steadily, " it appears then that the Nitalian government will accept your terms and pay the amount you have asked for."

Goddamnit, Antonio isn't going to be happy about this one ...

Though Nueve Italia's economy was surprisingly strong and the loss of so much money wouldn't affect the nation greatly, it was still the point of it. Still, war, much like everything else in the world, was a business: some people just had more chips than everyone else. Amedea, at the moment, felt as though all she had was a 5 contanti piece, whilst this Dux was the owner of Graffane Auto Manufacturers.

" This term," she spoke again in the same steady voice, " however, doesn't dictate a time frame in which this sum is to be paid. Would the Imperium Doomanum want this amount all at once, or in increments?"

No matter what, she had to concede to the Dux's wishes.

God Damn you straight to Hell ...~

Dux's Palace, Morocco

Check mate.

"We are well aware that Nueve Italia has a strong economy; as such, in order to make things simpler for both parties, we would prefer that the sum be paid in full. This will also hasten the expediency at which we can return your sailors and vessels," his eyes narrowed at her for a moment.

"Now, if we can all sign our copies of this document, we can conclude our business here."

He took a pen from one of his aids, swiftly signing his signature on his copy of the document as well as stamping it with the Seal of the Emperor to signify that it was a document valid in the eyes of the Imperial Government.

Dux Octavius Fidelis had effectively generated five trillion denarii for the Imperium in exchange for virtually nothing. This, along with the ten trillion denarii acquired from the Jarridians, would effectively pay for the next ten or so crusades Caesar decided to embark on in addition to covering the expenses of this war and the Freekish War. All in all, it was the most profitable war the Imperium had ever fought.

Official Clandonian Response

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Open Declaration:

His Majesty's government is pleased the conflict has been resolved and that Italia remains sovereign property of Doomingsland. The United Kingdom is satisfied by the financial payout and compensation that has been provided by Doomingsland as a gift for our involvement in the war.

His Majesty King William VII congratulates Caesar Maximus III on his excellent war and reassures that Doomingsland will remain a strong Clandonian ally. His Majesty sends as a gift a sword, forged from the ores and precious stones of Kirkland, His Majesty hopes Caesar enjoys this gift. The terms put forward by Doominsgland are perfectly reasonable and we advise all nations that wish to end this conflict with as little blood accept them. Those of the Westwood Alliance are the reasons for the war, they were the aggressors in this and have paid the price economically and in human losses. With protection and the threats of piracy and terrorism by enemy forces now over the Crown government has begun withdrawing the Clandonian Royal Navy and the Grand Expeditionary Fleet.

The preservation of free trade and maritime freedom will continue to be supported by the Crown government for the protection of her economical assets and those under the protection of her guns and her flag.


God Save the King



Prime Minister Sir David Sistilin

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The United Socialist States of Theoroshia

The Premier, Erikov Sergetov, would like to know if the government of Theoroshia should pay war damages. For her allies to suffer and not herself, Theoroshia feels very much like a robber. We would like to suffer the same treatment that our allies received. In turn, we are hoping that the country of Doomingsland will reply.

Erikov Sergetov
Premier of Theoroshia

Dux's Palace, Morocco

~ Amedea had underestimated that sense of superiority that she loathed so much from the Doomani. Apparently, it was their terms, or nothing, and, unfortunately, Nueve Italia couldn't do anything about it.

She knew that if she left just because of a matter of pride, she would condemn those soldiers to execution. Inside, she sighed, but she still retained a dis-passionate face.

" Well then, Dux," she began steadily, " it appears then that the Nitalian government will accept your terms and pay the amount you have asked for."

Goddamnit, Antonio isn't going to be happy about this one ...

Though Nueve Italia's economy was surprisingly strong and the loss of so much money wouldn't affect the nation greatly, it was still the point of it. Still, war, much like everything else in the world, was a business: some people just had more chips than everyone else. Amedea, at the moment, felt as though all she had was a 5 contanti piece, whilst this Dux was the owner of Graffane Auto Manufacturers.

" This term," she spoke again in the same steady voice, " however, doesn't dictate a time frame in which this sum is to be paid. Would the Imperium Doomanum want this amount all at once, or in increments?"

No matter what, she had to concede to the Dux's wishes.

God Damn you straight to Hell ...~


Sethanis was not about to let Nueve Italia bear the brunt of this outrage. "Julia, inform the financiers that we are offering our allies, Nueve Italia, 2.5 trillion denarii to offset the Doomani demand for twice that amount. Then contact the Nueven government and advise them of our offer."

"Yes , m'lord."

'And they call US barbarians,' he thought. 'Money for lives. These Doomani are nothing but thugs. Some day, some day...'

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The United Socialist States of Theoroshia

The Theoroshian Treasury would be more than happy to donate to our allies half a trillion denarii in order to help them pay of their reparations. Additionally, we regret that we could not give more. We are relatively a small nation, and our government needs every penny. We hope the best, and hope you accept this offer. It would greatly help our consience.

Erikov Sergetov
Premier of Theoroshia

President Kilo heard about Theoroshia's message to Doomingsland.

"What the HELL is he doing?!" he said aloud, "How do you TELL those you were just fighting that you will pay as well when they have not even looked towards you?! Damn, young leaders can say some of the dumbest shit!" he said.

Dux's Palace, Morocco

~ Though beaten, Amedea would never sink to the level of showing her dispair in such a dark hour. The true face of the Doomani shown clearly before her, she picked up the pen that was offered to her and signed the terms. Amedea Onssi than produced a Nitalian Republic seal, and, just like the Dux, stamped the document, the ink marking that it was now an official agreement between the Imperium and the Republic.

Things were sketchy now: she did succeed in freeing the sailors, but, in return, the Emperor would be globally humiliated and the coffers would be drained of a considerable sum. What shocked the ambassdor the most was the cold, tactful efficiency with which the Dux had used throughout the entire negotiations, especially when he threatened to end the talks.

He wouldn't have cared either way, even if I had just left those men to die. Sick bastard ...

Standing slowly, the terms with her signature laying before her, Ademea once again offered her hand out to her host, her true expressions hidden behind a straight face.

" I'm glad we could resolve this in a civil manner, Dux Fidelis. I thank you for welcoming me into your lands."~

President Kilo heard about Theoroshia's message to Doomingsland.

"What the HELL is he doing?!" he said aloud, "How do you TELL those you were just fighting that you will pay as well when they have not even looked towards you?! Damn, young leaders can say some of the dumbest shit!" he said.

"One Trillion Grots for defense not one Grot in Tribute."

Duke Ozgood the Third

-Message from the lone Alliance-
It would have far been a better fate for your soldiers to have died than to pay one cent to those satan lovers.

Secret IC:
-???-
"Round one... start."

-Supertanker-
Silently the massive vessel turned to the east... towards Rabat.

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The United Socialist States of Theoroshia

Theoroshia would like to tell her allies why we have offered to pay money. We feel that if our allies should pay, so should we. It is a matter of honor, which some of our allies (so sad to think of) seem not to comprehend.

I'd also like to say that Theoroshia has rejoined the Westwood Alliance. After a period of talks with Jarridian leaders, level heads prevailed and now the process of rebuilding will be that much more faster.

Good luck, comrades. One day, we will get our revenge. Until then, do svidaniya!

Erikov Sergetov
Premier of Theoroshia

-???-
"Round two is a go."

-???owned France-
In one of the small coasta cities of France
Xer sat in a private hotel room talking with the others. "Well, they gave us a newer idea."
"Shoot," Palm said.
"Once things settle we seize one of the numerous transports that will be going through Gilbraltar, put a nuke on the thing, then drive it right through to one of their areas, if they stop it, we detonate it," Xer said, "of course the current crew will have to be... removed."
Rad Grinned, "I love it, what about the bomb, can they trace it?"
"The Uranium is from another party, they'll never know." Xer responded.
"Good," Palm said. "We'll need some help however."
"Perhaps that group that appeared recently could help."