NationStates Jolt Archive

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Kensington, British Londinium
1932

"Hail victory!" screamed Giorgio Bonomi before the crowd. They cheered wildly, waving little Londinian flags wildly. "Ladies and gentlemen of this nation, I thank all of you for your support. With your votes, I, and the National Fascist Party, will be able to rebuild this great nation!"

More cheers erupted. The excitement was electric, jumping from person to person, flowing as a current would throughout the entire nation. Giorgio let a small grin appear on his normally cold face.

"The Great Depression has hit this nation hard. Unemployment, poverty, crime, corruption - all of these have been rampant. But I will not stand for that! British Londinium will be whole, it will be grand, and it will be triumphant once more! We will cleanse the nation!"

Giorgio stepped down from the podium, as advisors thrust papers into his hands and reporters desperately tried to snap more photos of the nation's new leader. He got into a limousine, which sped off towards the Prime Minister's palace.

"Fucking reporters," he muttered, his veneer of friendliness vanishing. "Paulie, where are we on the plan?"

"The plan?" asked Paulie Aprile, the new Deputy PM.

"The goddamn plan, you stupid cow! I've told you a million times that we can't fucking move until the king bites the dust."

"Right, right...look, we can do it next week - just give me more time to bribe the right people."

"One damn week, Paulie."

Vetalia City, Vetalia

May 15, 1932

Emperor Ordunov strolled the gardens of the Imperial Palace, basking in the mild warmth of the late morning. Like any day in the capitol, it was going to be hot and humid, and he considered it a rare pleasure to have a comfortable morning to enjoy the expansive gardens of the compound. However, his walk was cut short by the trio of military officers approaching from the far end of the courtyard. By their dress, he could recognize them as a Major General and Admiral.

Taking a moment to brush a stray lilac petal off of his finely tailord suit jacket, the Emperor walked towards the men. Upon seeing him, they removed their caps and saluted primly, waiting for him to approach. They said nothing until he addressed them. "You may speak. What is it that you wish?"

"My Lord, we bring reports from the Ministry of War. Details of this year's expansion program."
"Oh. Do summarize it. I shan't have time to read it today, what with all the diplomatic functions going on this time of year."

"As expected, we are expanding the military by another 100,000 men and expanding our tank divisions from 15 to 20. All in all an increase of around 500,000 men. The air force has also added five new squadrons, mostly fighters and the new surface bomber we have developed."
"And the navy?"
"Twenty new destroyers, fifteen new cruisers, five battleships and an aircraft carrier capable of holding 30 planes. One new combat group. That would bring us to a total of twenty combat groups or 820 ships, all modern make and armament."
"Excellent. It appears your plans are on schedule for this year, and if I recall correctly you are ahead of schedule on the five year armament plan. What do you plan to do with these new...toys? It would be a shame to let them go to waste."
"Of course not, my Lord. And, as you said, we are ahead of schedule thanks to your approval of the Special Budgetary Law last year. We have several strategic objectives in the region that would meet our needs, especially raw materials and unskilled labor. The Supreme Command will explain it in depth at our next meeting on the 21st."
"Good. I take it you men will not be needing my attention any further?"
"Not at all, your Majesty. We are heading to Xilare in three hours to oversee the new shipyard and oil refinery under construction."
"Excellent. I shall go now, to prepare for tonight's diplomatic dinner. You are dismissed."
"Thank you, my Lord."

The men saluted again, waited for him to turn his back, and then walked out. They cast a furtive glance at one another before leaving, the message clear. The Emperor is not going to be a problem for our future plans they thought silently.

City of Ariga, Red Tide

It was National Military Day, and rank after rank of tanks were rolled down Total Square, rank after rank of men, in perfect formation also goose-stepped their way down it. People of either side watched and cheered, they were forced to cheer, lest the Intellegince Commissarat make the disappear.

Trucks towing artillery pieces rolled by... anti-aircraft guns, anti-tank guns, howitzers. Overhead roared various fighters and bombers in V-shaped formations. And observing it all, all of it, was General-Secretary Georgi Vladimir Perchowski, waving like a benevolant father figure... when he was anything but.

As the last of the parade tramped by, Perchowski turned away and walked back in to the his Dacha. He went back into his mansion and began to check over various reports in his 'in' box.

He came across one from the Teretovich Rocket Center. It was concieved as a way to entertain the public, so why one of its reports would bother him... he had no idea. Then he discovered why... and he liked what he discovered.

'This should recieve immediate attention... He scribbled on a note.