NationStates Jolt Archive

Arch Chancellor Belevor stood overlooking the assembled Faxanavian press members in the vast Clock Square. He stared down at them, coughed, tapped his notes, tapped the microphone, and began his announcement. "Thankyou all for coming today. Please join us in rising for the Faxanavian National Anthem." The assembled press and dignitairies stood as an assembled band began playing. Behind the Arch Chancellor, a vast flag was rolled down. The three stars of Faxanavia.
A bit of historical background: Faxanavia is infact both the country and the state. The country of Faxanavia is assembled from five different smaller states: Faxanavia, Printernavia, Bolshkov, Romus, and Remulus. All are governed under a joint government, comprised off five seperate governments overseeing the affairs of each smaller state. The leaders of these governments (each may choose his own title, and so titles can become so outrageous as " Grand Exalted high master") all form one five man cabinet, with the leader of the state of Faxanavia as the head (because the state of Faxanavia was the original conquered of the others.) There are three stars on the flag because originally there were only three states: Faxanavia, Printernavia, and Bolshkov. Romus and Remulus were not assimilated for another 50 years after the formation of Faxanavia (the country). This little historical discourse has given us enough time to return to the meeting, where the national anthem has just ended.
The Arch Chancellor stood again and said, "Thankyou, all once again for coming today. I wish to share with you only good news. The Lyras forces have pulled out, and a peace treaty is signed and passed in Parliament." A loud cheer went up through out the crowd. The Lyras forces had arrived with great suprise and force, and completely controlled all of Faxanavia. Their goal? To force Faxanavian forces out of the war against Londim. They had succeded, but left not as enemies, but as allies.
"we of the Faxanavian government therefore look forward with a new hope for the future of..." He stopped suddenly because a loud bang had resounded across the square. This was the less pressing reason for his stopping. The real reason he had stopped was the vast red splotch spreading across his shirt.
High Counselor Belek of Romus dashed forward, and quickly took his pulse. He stared up, and in a calm and collected voice said, "he's dead."
The crowd was in an uproar. People screaming, the sounds of emergency sirens. The Prime Minister nowhere in site. It was a madhouse.
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"Good evening. I'm John Beoing, broadcasting live to the studio from right here on the tiny island of Remus, one of the two remaining states in the Allied States of Faxnavia." A tall, grey haired man stood in front of a tall, red brick building. In front of him, the camera crew kept their lenses staring at him. on the other end of the telecast, the main headcaster, Constance Burgeon asked, "John, what exactly has happened in Faxanvia in the past 48 hours?"
Beoing coughed, and said, " well, Constance, it's not good. It started off with the assasination of former Arch Chancellor of Bolshkov by an unknown assailant. This has ripped apart the already unsteady union of the older five states of the Allied States. Unfortunately, the situation came to a head when the state of Printernavia sent out a press release to announce it secession from the Allied States, believing that the assination of the Arch Chancellor would only lead to more violence and eventually war. The second state of Bolshkov seceded an hour later, announcing that it belived the other nations responsible for the death of it's leader. Finally, the Faxanavia (state) people deposed Prime Minister Ivansky Bochick and seceded. Currently, Bochick, along with the ex-leaders of Bolshov and Printernavia, has gone into hiding in an embassy located out of the region, though no one knows quite where. The three new countries- The Peoples Republic of New Faxanavia, the Iron Empire of Bolshkov, and the United Neurocrisy of Printernavia- look to be just under boiling point, and a war could break at any moments. Prime Minister Bochick has sent out an encoded telegram, begging the nations of the world to help re-unite Faxanavia.

OOC: War in Faxanavia. I'm looking for people who want to go to war; fighting with Printernavia, Bolshkiv, Faxanavia, or to help reinstate the old government.

OOC: Depending on the outcome of the war that is going on Londim may back one of the states but financially not through military means unless absolutely necessary.

OOC: I see. It really depend on if the whole LDC vs. Londim thing escalates to nuclear strikes. Seems alot of NS Nations use those...

Bump

Yep, you need help. But, I'm kinda busy right now with Londim (and Lyras), so just wait, I'll be there.

OOC: Thanks for the offer. Although I'm looking for new participants too, members of the LDC are much appreciated.

I will be there when I figure out what to do. :)

OCC: 1 Question, what Government type are you?

The Grand Vizier of the Neurocrisy of Printernavia stared out from the balcony of his palace over the city going up with remarkable speed, thanks to the building talents of their nanobots. The thing about Printernavia, is that it was the think tank of Faxanavia. 60% of all of the Faxanavian genius population had come from Printernavia. Now they were seperate, they had declared themselves a Neurocrisy- government by the smart. What the Printernavians lacked in armorment was being compensated for rather quickly. The Grand Vizier had no name- like every other citizen of the Neurocrisy, he went by a number. Simpler, said the philosiphers. He, was, in fact, 1, as would be every other Vizier under the new declaration of independence. His first action as Grand Vizier was to establish rigourous IQ tests- anyone who could not be classified at least a 140 on the scale was removed from the country. Those below 155 were put into menial labor. It was a hierarchy based on knowledge.

OCC: 1 Question, what Government type are you?

OOC: Well, Kanisov, the old government were Democratic Socialists, but the new ones are respectively a Neurocrisy (read above), a dictatorship, and a communist republic.

Kansiov City, 7pm

Shocked Kansiovians watched the breaking news of the latest reports from the Civil War breakout after the assination of Arch Chancellor of Bolshkov, on the Big Screen of Sochnya street while they were doing their usual evening shopping. Previous breakouts of these scenes have also wrecked Kansiov, when Former President Helxiev was assinated, and as a result havoc and revlots spread, and 3 States became independent, away from the Republic of Kansiov.

President Office

Rather worried, President Attontov did not want to let the anti-demotratics of Kansiov to be stronger as a result of the incident. He turned to his trusted advisor, Gebliev.

"What do you suggest?"

"In this situation, there are two options, first, send helping hands to Faxanavia to crush this "Rebellion", or two, stop the media from covering this report."

"What if I just let bygones be bygones and sit back?"

"Well, then anti-democratic riots will start parading in the streets and remind them of the unstable past Kansiov had, as a result serveral states might try for independence, away from Kansiov as well."

Attontov was rather disturbed, he could cover up the story, but brings Kansiov's Democracy rating lower, losing respect from the UN, or could he sacrifice lives of young Kansiovian men into battle?

He picked up the phone and called, Marshal Guliev.

Message from the Kansiovian Republic to Faxanavia

The Kansiovian Republic would send our 6th and 12th Carrier fleet to your Nation, they will provide air cover for your troops. We would want to know what is the strength of your Army as this will be a deciding factor if we would send Kansiovian Troops to take further action.

Signed,
Mr Attontov
President of Kansiov

Edit: I've decided to rename the new Faxanavia "New Faxanavia" to halt confusion.

Dear President Attontov,
I write you from a secure location, although I cannot tell you where, for security purposes. The nation of Faxanavia (old Fax), is dreadfully under-armed, as most of our forces are on the mainland. We have about 100,000 troops, out of our 1.5 million troop army. They all are armed with Faxanavian Awk-1 handheld weapons. We also have access to a few stationary automated sniping systems and artillery systems. Finally, we have access to about 50 military planes. If you need a list of the entire armorment of Faxanavia, please request by telegram. We will accept any help offered on your part gratefully.
Signed,
Ivansky Bochick, Prime Minister of the Free land of Faxanavia

Grand Leader Boris Colchov was seated in the throne that was now his. He had claimed it as the second in command of the Arch Chancellor. Sure, he would have liked the title of Arch Chancellor, but why settle for representative when you could run the Iron Empire of Bolshkov. He laughed maliciously. It was all his. All of it. He ran the single greatest point for military equipment in the region. Weaponry, and armed people. 10,000,000 people, and he could make any of them part of his military. And, with the power of his military might, he could crush the Peoples Republic and the United Neurocrisy with ease. It would all be so easy...

TO: Ivansky Bochick, Prime Minister of the Free Land of Faxanavia
FROM: Office of the Warmarshall of the Protectorate of Lyras

RE: Armaments

Prime Minister Bochick

As per the terms of the treaty by which Lyran forces departed Faxanavia, we make good our promises herein.

Arriving under Lyran flag to ports nominated by yourself shall be armaments and munitions to the agreed NS$20bn in value.

Composition of arriving equipment is as follows.

1000 LY4 Wolfhound MBTs
4000 LY219 Ironheart APCs
1500 LY219 Ironheart IFVs
500 LY300 Manticore Multiple Rocket Systems

Personnel will be on hand to instruct your soldiers on their use and upkeep.

Let it not be said that the Protectorate does not stand by its word.

Stand undaunted

Leon Krell
Warmarshall of the Protectorate
Bredubar
Protectorate of Lyras

Dear President Attontov,
I write you from a secure location, although I cannot tell you where, for security purposes. The nation of Faxanavia (old Fax), is dreadfully under-armed, as most of our forces are on the mainland. We have about 100,000 troops, out of our 1.5 million troop army. They all are armed with Faxanavian Awk-1 handheld weapons. We also have access to a few stationary automated sniping systems and artillery systems. Finally, we have access to about 50 military planes. If you need a list of the entire armorment of Faxanavia, please request by telegram. We will accept any help offered on your part gratefully.
Signed,
Ivansky Bochick, Prime Minister of the Free land of Faxanavia

Telegram from the Kansiovian Republic

Kansiov is willing to send about 140 fighters to aid your airforce, along with 46 Strike aircraft tagged along our navy we will be sending to your Nation. We believe that your Nation's Land forces are in the correct size, we are willing to sell you anything from the Kansiovian Storefront at a 20% discount

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=534178
(Here is the Link)

Signed,
Mr Attontov
President of Kansiov

Thankyou President Attonov. We do not expect war to break out for some time (in game- a day or two in RL), but when we do, we will be ready.

President Leon Berensky was also in his new offices. He, however, was hard at work. The tiny, timid looking man was the newly elected leader of the Peoples Republic of New Faxanavia. And he was stressed out. The others had bigger weapons, and more brains! What did he have? Sure, the mandatory draft would help, but what about armorment? and training? He felt like he needed a long nap.

Far, far away... but getting closer every day!

The Ilium-class destroyer New Abydos pitched back and forth in the rough seas, the occasional wave crashing over her bow and sloshing around the deck. The ship was in no danger, of course - she was practically unsinkable by any but the most extreme weather - but that still didn't help the miserable crew, many of whom were new to the Navy life.

On the bridge, the Captain looked out over the wind-whipped seas, occasionally catching glimpse of another ship through the rain - mostly the massive General Marsden-class transports, occasionally another warship of the convoy's escort. He scowled as the ship pitched again, sending a new ensign stumbling into the wall.

"Remind me again why we are here?" he murmured sourly.

"To stop Communists from taking over the country, sir." his second mate answered.

"I know that." the Captain hissed. "I mean, why are we here. We fought a hard battle in Cyprus barely a month ago, and here we are again with no rest, no leave, barely time to resupply, headed off to fight again in some Godforsaken country at the ends of the earth."

"Errr..."

The Captain sighed.

"Forget it. The ship is yours, one-el-tee. I will be getting some sleep."

And so the fleet continued, slowly forcing its way through the sea towards its eventual target - Faxanavia.

OOC: out of curiosity, which of the governments would be the most anti-Communist?

OOC: Fax, I think you missed my last post...

OOC: Sorry, I did read, it but didn't acknowledge it.
IC:
Dear War Marshall,
We thank you for your kind and generous donation, and hope that it will aid us in our tiem of strife.
Repsectfully yours,
Ivansky Bochick, Prime Minister of The Free Land of Faxanavia.

OOC: New Manth: The Peoples Republic of New Faxanavia is the most Communist. The Free Land of Faxanavia is a democratic socialist electorate. The Iron Empire of Bolshkov is a dictatorship. The United Neurocrisy of Printernavia is an Anarcho Encyclosystic government- ruling by the smart. Probably the most anti-communist are Printernavia and old Faxanavia.

OOC: The Iron Empire is pretty anti-communist. basically, anyone besides the Peoples Republic.

In that case, we will support the Iron Empire. Thanks.

OOC: You're welcome.
IC: Grand Leader Colchov languished in a vast tub. After all, where was the fun in being a dictator if you couldn't relax. A young woman, his private secretary, hurried in, shielding her eyes. "Sir, New Manth is sending forces, and we think they intend to help us."
The Grand Leader nodded and shooed her out. New Manth, huh? Things were about to get interesting.

OOC: NM, do you have any idea of what you'll be sending? Just wondering.

OOC: Do we need an OOC thread, or will this thread work?

Far, far away... but getting closer every day!

The Ilium-class destroyer New Abydos pitched back and forth in the rough seas, the occasional wave crashing over her bow and sloshing around the deck. The ship was in no danger, of course - she was practically unsinkable by any but the most extreme weather - but that still didn't help the miserable crew, many of whom were new to the Navy life.

On the bridge, the Captain looked out over the wind-whipped seas, occasionally catching glimpse of another ship through the rain - mostly the massive General Marsden-class transports, occasionally another warship of the convoy's escort. He scowled as the ship pitched again, sending a new ensign stumbling into the wall.

"Remind me again why we are here?" he murmured sourly.

"To stop Communists from taking over the country, sir." his second mate answered.

"I know that." the Captain hissed. "I mean, why are we here. We fought a hard battle in Cyprus barely a month ago, and here we are again with no rest, no leave, barely time to resupply, headed off to fight again in some Godforsaken country at the ends of the earth."

"Errr..."

The Captain sighed.

"Forget it. The ship is yours, one-el-tee. I will be getting some sleep."

And so the fleet continued, slowly forcing its way through the sea towards its eventual target - Faxanavia.

Telegram
From: Grand Leader Boris Colchov, The Iron Empire of Bolshkov
To: The leaders of New Manth
We of the Iron Empire thankyou for your kind actions towards our great country, and we realize your goal of the destruction of Communisim. With your help, we will turn our might upon The Peoples Republic of New Faxanavia, and their filthy communist ways.
Hail to the Empire,
Boric Cochov

It was two o'clock and the sky hinted rain. Not a bird chirped, nor figure move. The stage was tall, towering almost forty feet over the seemingly mesmerized crowd. The crowd look like a church, in fact, for that was what it was. There were aisles and flowers and dresses and suits, but the open air lended it a much more earthly tone. These were not average Noctianans. Each person; each man, each woman, and even each child was here for one goal. They stood for one thing: The government would appoint their religion as the leading such, or they would be forced to begin civil war. And civil war was no joke. The largest fringe group at almost two and a half million strong, they were willing and prepared not just to kill women, children, and even babies, they were ready to give each woman and child a gun. They were always, however, nonviolent. They handed out pamphlets on the streets, politely sway some to their side. But today, that was about to change.

The speak stood up. He walked, and due to the gravity of the moment, it seemed like ages until he reached the microphone. He opened:

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We all know why I stand here today. We all know why we stand here today. For years, you have come to this spot for good, for the kind, and to pray to god. We have prayed for peace, for love, for every ethic and moral of the Genonian good. But today we have been forced to pray for war, to pray for strength, to pray for physical and not spiritual might.

"But god, that strange and mighty power that holds us together, is still what we pray for. We still pray for love, though we may pray for war. We still hold the Genonian book, the guiding light to our souls. Our brothers elsewhere pray for the same, for we are united, we are one. We are Noctiana. We still pray for country, for state, and for justice. Sadly, we must compromise to bring those out. This will always be remembered as a sad day for Genonia.

"We ask you, now, brethren souls, to pray a silent prayer for strength, to pray against the philosophy of this spiteful government, and to pray the prayer for war. Amen."

Alfred Carter, a secret service agent, pretended to pray. In his suitase were forty grenades, though cheap, that he was prepared to use. He looked strangely at the prayerbook, then put it down. The person next to him turned around.

"Pray! Pray for godly help and for strength."
"Shut up."
The man's voice was louder now. "GOd will save us! Pray!"
Alfred discreetly pulled out a grenade and flashed it at the man.
It was now a scream. "My god, he's got weapons!"

Alfred pulled the pin.

Rear Admiral Halys Mattan II tossed aside the telegram he had just received.

"Amusing. Send a reply to the "Grand Leader." Inform him that we shall reach Faxanavian shores within the next two days, and that once we arrive, we will 'assist' his men in wiping the Communist rebels from the face of the earth."

ooc: Four divisions with the fleet = ~60,000 men. More may or may not arrive later.

OOC: Excellent. Thanks.
IC: The Grand Leader stroed down one of the long hallways in his vast residence. It was good to be a dictator. He walked leisurely into the large military control complex room. Lights were flashing and computers were beeping everywhere. He crossed the floor to the main strategy area, where a vast, three dimensional representation of the Five Faxanavian states floated. He stood, stairing up at what would soon be his kingdom. He then turned away, and beckoned one of the aids which flitted about him constantly. She moved forward, nervously, and he said, "What can we arm with right now?" She glanced around, not sure if he was talking to her. Then, with no sign of salvation, she said, " Well, sir, we have 10,000,000 population. Of that, we have armorment for 2,000,000. We have access to one of the major missle silos, and almost the entire stock pile of handheld weapons is here in Bolshkov. We have almost no airforce though- the majority of it is out on the island. But, if we can take Port Keel, we have most of the naval forces." She stood, hesistant, hoping it was enough. He nodded, then said, " Good. Take a message to the generals- tell them to get the troops mobilized and start training and arming another million. Get the factories up and running, and have them start production of F-11 Mudhens. Tell the generals that they are to wait for my signal before we march south for Port Keel. That is all." The aid dashed off glad to be rid of the Grand Leader. He laughed inwardly. "Soon," he thought, "It will be all mine."
OOC: Port Keel is the major port in Faxanavia, and the location of the major part of their navy.

A contingent was marching south by nightfall. The plan: Capture Port Keel before the reinforcements from New Manth arrived. This would allow the ships arriving from New Manth to dock. A 500,000 man strong army, or divisions 5-10, or sectors 50-100 were on the march. Each was equipped with a faxanavian Awk-1 battle rifle. Tanks rolled along with the contingents, and artillery was farried along on transports. They would march on towards the port city, and were prepared to take down any enemy forces and occupy. For the glory of the empire...

I offer you 25,000 troops that will work under your command. I would offer more, but I need to keep a few for my terorrism crisis.

OOC: Thanks for the offer. However, I need to know which of the four countries your offering them to. The Iron Empire, the United Neurocrisy, the People's Republic, or the Free Land?

However, when they arrived at Port Keel, the Iron Empire forces were suprised to find little resistence beyond that of a small people's militia, who were easily quashed. They took Port Keel with ease. And, now, they would control Faxanavian naval forces. Soon, thought the grand leader, it will all be mine.

Sure enough, the sun rose the next day on one of the massive troop transports slowly pulling into harbor. The ship nosed slowly up to a dock, sailors shouting instructions to each other as they cast lines ashore and made ready to unload.

As soon as the ship was secure, men began disembarking in orderly lines, while officers went to greet whoever had been sent to meet the Manthian troops by the authorities of this 'Iron Empire'.

Shortly, yet another transport appeared in the harbor-mouth, and then another, and another... before long several dozen large cargo ships and ten or twelve warships lay offshore, each vessel awaiting its chance to unload.