Nova Boozia
02-01-2008, 10:26
OOC:More soon. Tags for involvement are good. IC posts establishing characters and stating why you're interested are much better. As soon as Sithy and a few others (Meihm, mostly) are in, we're off. This is open, and anyone can participate, but I reserve the right to ban anyone who "misses the spirit". Which means spam, flame, personal attacks, hi-jacking, and sending in megadeath fleets from the word go. On your marks... get set... GO!
IC:With thousands of field-stoves, lamps, and the occasional greedily licking campfire the only light save the bigger unscheduled fires of blazing buildings dimming to an inglorious end as a sullen red glow, the ruined New East Quarter of Brundeburg might have been mistaken for a sleepy small town by an observer from above, at least one without sensors, despite having been crowded with industrial estates and high-rise housing not long ago. Around these pathetic lights clustered Boozian soldiers in various states of raggedness. Everyone had lost something in the battle, helmets, friends, minds and lives. But many managed a smile, and some a weak laugh. Being alive with a fully functioning mouth can seem hilariously unlikely sometimes.
B company, third battalion, Halstwick Grenadiers had been in the fighting from the start, and yet they laughed too, harder than most. Above them fluttered the still-burning rags of some strange and horrifying icon. They sat amid the ruins of a high rise housing block, torn down by the same artillery which had them churned the rubble around them into strange mounds and valleys. But despite their preoccupations with talk and food, almost everyone glanced up when Hauptmann Eberstark re-appeared from his briefing. Silence fell, at a leisurely pace, it's landing ground sprinkled with whispers. If it had been something of immediate importance, Eberstark wouldn't have waited for it , but if there was ever a time for drama it was now.
“It's over! We! Have! Won!”
“Well, sounds like someone's pleased with themselves.”
“Or few thousand someones.”
General-Leutnant Henryk Overkirk chuckled. He needed a laugh as much as anyone in his division. It was barely audible over the mad cheering from outside.
“Well, let's concede they deserve it.”
Now it was his adjutant's turn for a chuckle.
“With you there, general. But the news. If this withdrawal is a ploy, it's an elaborate one. Navy confirms the enemy have left the system. Any prisoners they took, we think, are alive. Orders are to stay alert in this sector. Rest up the troops. Supply is all in order and you have a high priority on equipment replacement.”
“Thanks. Now, I need to get some orders done. Go and help Kohl with those replacements, if you please.”
“Sir.”
Henryk started methodically typing, but he stopped after the first few jobs. No point working when he couldn't keep his mind on the job. He scribbled a few notes and rang for an ADC. He would check the young staff officer's work later, but for now, there were other things he needed to think about... things he wanted to know...
The Schalmer Theater in Orensburg, it was said, could seat, stand, and otherwise suitably account for four thousand guests. No-one had ever tested this, but that wasn't to say seating staff had an easy job. It was said centauroids, elephants, and a lynch-mob had all been settled in quite comfortably. And now, as ever, the venerable house of actors, musicians, and every other flavor of vagabond had risen to the challenge. The challenge of it's most politically influential audience in a long history of politically influential audiences.
“The Provisional Parliament of Nova Boozia is hereby assembled!”
This audience wasn't at all big, but it was important. The Schalmer had hit the best balance between size, comfort, and modern facilities on Furnace, a planet without a dedicated site for a legislature. About half of the Boozian parliamentary quorum was seated in it's grand Central Stage.
“First on the agenda, it is of course essential that this parliament be dissolved and a full quorum assembled as soon as possible. I yield the floor to Mr. Schmalkald, Sozial-Demokrat Partei.”
Schmalkald stood amid the whir of micro-phones and speakers re-arranging themselves around the new focus of attention.
“Honourable members, we in the SDP fully recognize the provisional nature of this assembly. However, we must not act too quickly in calling full elections. It is important to remember that there has been widespread destruction of infrastructure on Boozia Prime, and that any election held immediately will be barely more representative than...”
Bzzzzzzt.
“Objection heard. You may begin, Ms.Breslauer.”
“That is an exaggeration. An election could be held easily everywhere with perhaps five exceptions, the only one of note being the Greater Brundeburg area.”
“While possibly there are misunderstandings at this point owing to conflicting reports from the homeworld, it is certain that in Greater Brundeburg and other places a census and major humanitarian project are necessary before we can consider elections and even then it will be a substantial administrative undertaking taking some time. Failure to represent any single citizen in this assembly compromises it as much as failure to represent any single planet.”
There was enthusiastic applause, and although in a full parliament, no more people would have been applauding, here that number constituted a majority. The SDP had most of its following on Furnace, the most populous planet of Boozia, while Boozia Prime and Harvest created a nation-wide Konservativ-Liberal majority. But the small population of Harvest couldn't make it up here.
“Quiet please!” With artificial aide, the speaker's voice easily drowned the clapping out. “I think we can reserve applause for later, honourable members, for now, let the debate continue. Ms.Breslauer?”
“I can only agree with Mr.Schmalkald's sentiment, and was only pointing out what appears to be an inaccuracy under most evidence. This assembly must represent all Boozians, and be it of a citizen or a planet any omission is undemocratic. And thus, since this parliament is omitting a planet, it is undemocratic and powerless!”
“Mr.Speaker, I shall address this argument, but I request no objections be heard until I can make my proposition.”
“Granted.”
“I agree that this assembly can never have the status of a full parliament, and is not wholly democratic. However, a partial assembly is at this point the lesser of two evils. The greater is allowing the executive to ride rough-shod through our constitutional liberties under the thin justification of “state of emergency”. Some legislative must remain to check them. I move that the following be added to the constitution as clause 19 of the Legislature section.”
A highlighted Boozian Constitution helpfully popped into existence on stage.
“And, failing that, become law in this particular case. That this parliament must dissolve at the end of the year; that it may voluntarily dissolve at a time before of its choosing; that it will allow an extra-ordinary period of two months before the next parliament assembles; that it shall exercise it's full constitutional powers.”
Bzzzzt.
“Objection heard, Mr. Salza.”
The debate went on and on for an hour, then two, with the KL putting a brave fight, but they were only going to get media sympathy from it, that they knew, and only sympathy from some media. The SDP held a clear majority. For now, they could pretty much do as they pleased. For now...
“Latest report from the J-Ships, Admiral.”
“Give me the gist, would you? Bit busy. Politics, you know. Festering plague, the lot of it.”
Admiral Gerspel's aides had all grown used to his... recognisable mode of speech. This one proceeded unflustered.
“Well, as far as declassified stuff goes, the enemy has withdrawn all the way to their home territory. No ships or FTLi left behind on the route. They have made a strategic retreat: if it's a feint, we can detect them coming hours in advance.”
“Right-o. Thank you, Abendroth. Get me coffee, could you?”
Karin Abendroth hurried off.
“How are you finding her, then?” The other person in the planning room looked Gerspel eye-to-eye again, having been hiding beneath her cap while Abendroth was present. Admiral Verena Junker had never fully adapted to having half her face blown away, even after all these years. Only a few old friends like Gerspel, those she had known before that incident, were allowed to see the mechanical half.
“Smart. Gets to the point. Takes orders. She'll be an adjutant till she's back in the world, I should think.”
“My thoughts exactly. Not J-Ship material. Wants to take orders. That's why I recommended her. Did you tell her?”
“No. When I was recommended it went right to my tiny head. It's either that or she'll go to pieces finding out she wasn't hand-picked.”
“Have you ever considered the possibility of an adjutant without an esteem problem?”
“What? Someone below thirty-five, balanced? You're just as hopelessly optimistic as ever.”
“Shut up. Now, politics.”
Gerspel gave an exaggerated groan.
“You had your chance to push ships around the planning table the whole of this week. Some things are more important now. My ships can see the enemy coming from a mile away. And who knows, perhaps we actually have beaten them.”
“Hopelessly optimistic, I said, and...”
“Politics.”
“Oh, if you must.”
At this point Abendroth returned with the coffee.
“Ah! Abendroth! Karin! Thanks, yes, two sugars, both brown. And milk. Stay and chat, will you? Read that whole report out. Tell us your life story.”
“The esteemed admiral doesn't want to talk politics, Leutnant. You may go.”
This time Abendroth was puzzled, although she tried not to show it.
“I surrender. It's the truth. Off you go.”
“Anyway. The emergency parliament is basically a parliament for Furnace and Harvest. That much I hope even you know.”
“Mh-hm.”
“And that means the SDP controls it. They've only agreed to dissolve come the end of this year. For now they're talking about the Empire, about constitutional reform in general, about religion, about immigration...”
Gerspel gritted his teeth. “They'll tear the KL to pieces.”
“Exactly. All those issues are a cut straight across the center for us. So basically Buskirk has two options when the full parliament re-assembles. Move to reverse these measures and tear his party apart, or sit in parliament and do nothing. Which, barring all those foreign policy debates, is what they've been doing for some time now.”
“Oh dear, oh dear.”
“It's not a shot at getting in charge. They can't win an election under the two party system. As far as the man on the street is concerned, this war has only shown how isolationism will ruin us. But they've got this window to smash that system, pick up the pieces, and put some kind of coalition together. And given just how sectionalised the KL is looking, they'll certainly exert substantial influence.”
“Can we do anything?”
“The navy? Sure. Felfner's calling the shots now. He's not terminating the state of emergency until we've had two months of peace.”
“That still gives the SDP a four-month window of opportunity. They could fire off all their killing shots easily.”
“True, but this is less about time they don't have than time we do.”
“To do what?”
“Call in the Empire.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
IC:With thousands of field-stoves, lamps, and the occasional greedily licking campfire the only light save the bigger unscheduled fires of blazing buildings dimming to an inglorious end as a sullen red glow, the ruined New East Quarter of Brundeburg might have been mistaken for a sleepy small town by an observer from above, at least one without sensors, despite having been crowded with industrial estates and high-rise housing not long ago. Around these pathetic lights clustered Boozian soldiers in various states of raggedness. Everyone had lost something in the battle, helmets, friends, minds and lives. But many managed a smile, and some a weak laugh. Being alive with a fully functioning mouth can seem hilariously unlikely sometimes.
B company, third battalion, Halstwick Grenadiers had been in the fighting from the start, and yet they laughed too, harder than most. Above them fluttered the still-burning rags of some strange and horrifying icon. They sat amid the ruins of a high rise housing block, torn down by the same artillery which had them churned the rubble around them into strange mounds and valleys. But despite their preoccupations with talk and food, almost everyone glanced up when Hauptmann Eberstark re-appeared from his briefing. Silence fell, at a leisurely pace, it's landing ground sprinkled with whispers. If it had been something of immediate importance, Eberstark wouldn't have waited for it , but if there was ever a time for drama it was now.
“It's over! We! Have! Won!”
“Well, sounds like someone's pleased with themselves.”
“Or few thousand someones.”
General-Leutnant Henryk Overkirk chuckled. He needed a laugh as much as anyone in his division. It was barely audible over the mad cheering from outside.
“Well, let's concede they deserve it.”
Now it was his adjutant's turn for a chuckle.
“With you there, general. But the news. If this withdrawal is a ploy, it's an elaborate one. Navy confirms the enemy have left the system. Any prisoners they took, we think, are alive. Orders are to stay alert in this sector. Rest up the troops. Supply is all in order and you have a high priority on equipment replacement.”
“Thanks. Now, I need to get some orders done. Go and help Kohl with those replacements, if you please.”
“Sir.”
Henryk started methodically typing, but he stopped after the first few jobs. No point working when he couldn't keep his mind on the job. He scribbled a few notes and rang for an ADC. He would check the young staff officer's work later, but for now, there were other things he needed to think about... things he wanted to know...
The Schalmer Theater in Orensburg, it was said, could seat, stand, and otherwise suitably account for four thousand guests. No-one had ever tested this, but that wasn't to say seating staff had an easy job. It was said centauroids, elephants, and a lynch-mob had all been settled in quite comfortably. And now, as ever, the venerable house of actors, musicians, and every other flavor of vagabond had risen to the challenge. The challenge of it's most politically influential audience in a long history of politically influential audiences.
“The Provisional Parliament of Nova Boozia is hereby assembled!”
This audience wasn't at all big, but it was important. The Schalmer had hit the best balance between size, comfort, and modern facilities on Furnace, a planet without a dedicated site for a legislature. About half of the Boozian parliamentary quorum was seated in it's grand Central Stage.
“First on the agenda, it is of course essential that this parliament be dissolved and a full quorum assembled as soon as possible. I yield the floor to Mr. Schmalkald, Sozial-Demokrat Partei.”
Schmalkald stood amid the whir of micro-phones and speakers re-arranging themselves around the new focus of attention.
“Honourable members, we in the SDP fully recognize the provisional nature of this assembly. However, we must not act too quickly in calling full elections. It is important to remember that there has been widespread destruction of infrastructure on Boozia Prime, and that any election held immediately will be barely more representative than...”
Bzzzzzzt.
“Objection heard. You may begin, Ms.Breslauer.”
“That is an exaggeration. An election could be held easily everywhere with perhaps five exceptions, the only one of note being the Greater Brundeburg area.”
“While possibly there are misunderstandings at this point owing to conflicting reports from the homeworld, it is certain that in Greater Brundeburg and other places a census and major humanitarian project are necessary before we can consider elections and even then it will be a substantial administrative undertaking taking some time. Failure to represent any single citizen in this assembly compromises it as much as failure to represent any single planet.”
There was enthusiastic applause, and although in a full parliament, no more people would have been applauding, here that number constituted a majority. The SDP had most of its following on Furnace, the most populous planet of Boozia, while Boozia Prime and Harvest created a nation-wide Konservativ-Liberal majority. But the small population of Harvest couldn't make it up here.
“Quiet please!” With artificial aide, the speaker's voice easily drowned the clapping out. “I think we can reserve applause for later, honourable members, for now, let the debate continue. Ms.Breslauer?”
“I can only agree with Mr.Schmalkald's sentiment, and was only pointing out what appears to be an inaccuracy under most evidence. This assembly must represent all Boozians, and be it of a citizen or a planet any omission is undemocratic. And thus, since this parliament is omitting a planet, it is undemocratic and powerless!”
“Mr.Speaker, I shall address this argument, but I request no objections be heard until I can make my proposition.”
“Granted.”
“I agree that this assembly can never have the status of a full parliament, and is not wholly democratic. However, a partial assembly is at this point the lesser of two evils. The greater is allowing the executive to ride rough-shod through our constitutional liberties under the thin justification of “state of emergency”. Some legislative must remain to check them. I move that the following be added to the constitution as clause 19 of the Legislature section.”
A highlighted Boozian Constitution helpfully popped into existence on stage.
“And, failing that, become law in this particular case. That this parliament must dissolve at the end of the year; that it may voluntarily dissolve at a time before of its choosing; that it will allow an extra-ordinary period of two months before the next parliament assembles; that it shall exercise it's full constitutional powers.”
Bzzzzt.
“Objection heard, Mr. Salza.”
The debate went on and on for an hour, then two, with the KL putting a brave fight, but they were only going to get media sympathy from it, that they knew, and only sympathy from some media. The SDP held a clear majority. For now, they could pretty much do as they pleased. For now...
“Latest report from the J-Ships, Admiral.”
“Give me the gist, would you? Bit busy. Politics, you know. Festering plague, the lot of it.”
Admiral Gerspel's aides had all grown used to his... recognisable mode of speech. This one proceeded unflustered.
“Well, as far as declassified stuff goes, the enemy has withdrawn all the way to their home territory. No ships or FTLi left behind on the route. They have made a strategic retreat: if it's a feint, we can detect them coming hours in advance.”
“Right-o. Thank you, Abendroth. Get me coffee, could you?”
Karin Abendroth hurried off.
“How are you finding her, then?” The other person in the planning room looked Gerspel eye-to-eye again, having been hiding beneath her cap while Abendroth was present. Admiral Verena Junker had never fully adapted to having half her face blown away, even after all these years. Only a few old friends like Gerspel, those she had known before that incident, were allowed to see the mechanical half.
“Smart. Gets to the point. Takes orders. She'll be an adjutant till she's back in the world, I should think.”
“My thoughts exactly. Not J-Ship material. Wants to take orders. That's why I recommended her. Did you tell her?”
“No. When I was recommended it went right to my tiny head. It's either that or she'll go to pieces finding out she wasn't hand-picked.”
“Have you ever considered the possibility of an adjutant without an esteem problem?”
“What? Someone below thirty-five, balanced? You're just as hopelessly optimistic as ever.”
“Shut up. Now, politics.”
Gerspel gave an exaggerated groan.
“You had your chance to push ships around the planning table the whole of this week. Some things are more important now. My ships can see the enemy coming from a mile away. And who knows, perhaps we actually have beaten them.”
“Hopelessly optimistic, I said, and...”
“Politics.”
“Oh, if you must.”
At this point Abendroth returned with the coffee.
“Ah! Abendroth! Karin! Thanks, yes, two sugars, both brown. And milk. Stay and chat, will you? Read that whole report out. Tell us your life story.”
“The esteemed admiral doesn't want to talk politics, Leutnant. You may go.”
This time Abendroth was puzzled, although she tried not to show it.
“I surrender. It's the truth. Off you go.”
“Anyway. The emergency parliament is basically a parliament for Furnace and Harvest. That much I hope even you know.”
“Mh-hm.”
“And that means the SDP controls it. They've only agreed to dissolve come the end of this year. For now they're talking about the Empire, about constitutional reform in general, about religion, about immigration...”
Gerspel gritted his teeth. “They'll tear the KL to pieces.”
“Exactly. All those issues are a cut straight across the center for us. So basically Buskirk has two options when the full parliament re-assembles. Move to reverse these measures and tear his party apart, or sit in parliament and do nothing. Which, barring all those foreign policy debates, is what they've been doing for some time now.”
“Oh dear, oh dear.”
“It's not a shot at getting in charge. They can't win an election under the two party system. As far as the man on the street is concerned, this war has only shown how isolationism will ruin us. But they've got this window to smash that system, pick up the pieces, and put some kind of coalition together. And given just how sectionalised the KL is looking, they'll certainly exert substantial influence.”
“Can we do anything?”
“The navy? Sure. Felfner's calling the shots now. He's not terminating the state of emergency until we've had two months of peace.”
“That still gives the SDP a four-month window of opportunity. They could fire off all their killing shots easily.”
“True, but this is less about time they don't have than time we do.”
“To do what?”
“Call in the Empire.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”