NationStates Jolt Archive


Kazansky Bares It All! [Interview]

Allanea
14-01-2008, 06:20
Hundreds of trucks moved into Liberty-City, one after another after another. Each truck carried twenty-five tons of Wagdian gold, and there were almost 2,000 trucks. Of them, 200 would become the property of a Wagdian citizen again, but that would not be the point. The very fact the Wagdian central bank sold the gold to the CCBC would serve, to the world, a proof of it's worth - and already, in Wagdog, clean-shaved Wagdian clerk were to work establishing the new bank. The initial M1 would be now thirty trillion Confederate Franks, available at every CCBC office in Wagdog at two USD per Frank. Stockpiles of old Wagdian currency would be replaced everywhere for only a half-percent fee.

And on the topmost level of Minas-Faerie, the Tower of Freedom, Alexander Kazansky was sitting a table, watching his own share of the trucks roll into the city in a long cavalcade, a full hundred miles from the front truck's headlights to the last one's rear license plate. It was dark,, and it was beginning to rain – and yet the boy smiled sadly as he looked.

He was sitting at the same table at which he greeted dozens of foreign heads of state, diplomats and corporate giants, senators and lobbyists. As usual, a variety of exotic, carefully-chosen food was on the table, as well as two bottles of atrociously expensive elfwine that was, quite likely, worth more than its weight in gold.

In front of him was sitting a Menelmacari journalist, employed with a major Menelmacari paper's Allanean office. The elf looked visibly uncomfortable – after all, quite a few people in Menelmacar thought the Allanean leader was a strange homicidal monster, a sort of libertarian Saddam Hussein with gravships.

“You understand,” - Kazansky said to the man sitting at the other side of the table - “I do not pretend to be blind to my own disadvantages, or the disadvantages of Allanea. There is a reason, you know, why a lot of people in this country choose to artificially stop their aging before puberty is even finally over. Someone smart once said that Allanea is a nation of teenagers that just outright refuse to grow up.”

On War:

“I vetoed two war bills this fiscal year. Why do people here want to go to war that much? Have you seen ' New Hope'? It's a very nice Twentieth Century film. It concludes with a hero flying a fighter into a key location on an impossibly huge enemy starship and blowing it up, thus winning the day. This, in effect, is the illusion of war if you're young and idealistic. People are given to believing that if they're good at inflicting violence on others, they can change the world. People hear the words “revolution” and they immediately think it's all about guillotines and barricades. That is... very simplistic at best.”

“Now, I am not perfect. I admit to you that I enjoy war in an emotional, visceral sense. I'm good at it, and if I have to do it, I'll not be shocked or depressed. I'll be entertained. But at the same time, I do not wish to inflict on any sapient violence for it's own sake. I am not the world's best, gentlest person, but I understand – on both an intellectual and an emotional level – that it is peace that is the best creator of prosperity. Look now.”

Kazansky points below, where the city is spread out, like an endless array of jewels, all the way to the horizon and beyond. “This is the biggest treasure there is. Not the gold. The city. A great man said once: 'In the midst of a great and terrifying darkness, any little fuzzy-edged pools of light and warmth and love and hope that happen to appear in this horror-filled universe are purely artificial, established where they are, usually at an unspeakable cost, by the minds and hands of individual beings.' And that's what that city is, down there below – millions of individual sapients, crafting, day by day, their individual version of Eden. I'm a soldier first and foremost. But I must remember – we, the Allaneans must remember – that these pool of light and warmth, and love and hope are products of peace and liberty. Note peace and liberty. “

The General-Secretary falls silent for a moment, looking below at the passing cavalcade, waiting for the reporter's next questions, and explaining his own positions.

On Elves:

“Our policy towards the elven countries, and especially Menelmacar, remains a difficult balancing act. A friend of mine who's worked there on a diplomatic mission likes to point out that the elves – all elves – are bound to see themselves as superior to us. The average Menelmacari public official is older than most civilisations – how's he going to look at a society of people who see the teenager as their ideal? You can't really even blame them, especially with the fact our society disturbs even people who are not of the Elder Races.”

“On the other hand, look at us. We like the elves. They've always been good to us. Personally, I'm very grateful to their royal family for what they've done for me time and time again. And I think we ought to be helping them. We ought to be giving them money. They're nice people. There's no question. But there is a certain catch involved.”

“If we outright prostrate ourselves before the elves, it will be seen both outside and inside the nation as a loss of dignity. That's bad. That'll cause a backlash. But if we try and be too proud - which is all too easy because Allaneans, too, think they're the best – then we'll offend the elves. That's bad too. So it's a balancing act.”

The elf looked at Kazansky inquisitively:

“Haven't you already prostrated yourselves for....well, decades? So why stop now?"

The Allanean shrugged: “Look at it this way. There always was a bit of discontent about this. It was dangerous, in my mind, to let it grow and fester. A lot of people became... incensed, there was even a bill, I believe, during the Goldwasser administration, to end all dealings with Menelmacar altogether. Happily it got vetoed. But I do think we were overdoing it. Too much of a good thing and all. Doesn't mean however, that we don't like the elves anymore. We like the elves, but I think it's the responsible, moderate choice to be... well, responsible and moderate about it. Yes, Menelmacari culture is very nice and in some ways superior to our own. But I think it's unhealthy to pretend our own culture is completely worthless.”

“For a while, it was thought Allaneans were completely incapable of cooperation and diplomacy. But that's not true, or if it was true, it changed. Look at the gold below. Look at all this stuff around us. There's two million foreign students in this city today. We trade with a hundred nations. That happened because we stopped trying to just yammer at the world and started listening to what our neighbors needed, what our friends needed, and yes, even what our enemies needed. A nation of complete barbarians whose place is only at the feet of their betters would have been capable of such improvements – look at any group of real barbarians you care to name.”

On the Pilonese:

“The Pilonese are like the Allaneans – if, that is, the Allaneans were utterly tasteless and had no concern whatsoever for even basic privacy. Nevermind how they tried to destroy our economy. I don't hold that against them. I think I can understand that some people don't like Allaneans. But they built that abominable kidney of theirs on in Liberty-City!” - Kazansky said, smirking. It was obvious he was joking. “I would like to yet again thank the Menelmacari Navy for burning every sample of Pilonese architecture in this city to the ground. They sure burned nice."

“The Necrons did that.” - the reporter corrected.

“Yes, you're correct, it's all coming back to me now. I remember one of my predecessors even awarded Ranisath the Presidential Medal of Freedom for it – making him only the second foreigner to receice this award. He deserved it for torching that godawful kidney thing alone.”

“But other than the kidney thing, and their strange tourist laws, I don't mind the Pilonese. If you don't like your genes scanned, don't travel there. I for one have no intention to. If people don't mind that and want to buy Pilonese goods after they've tried to destroy half the nation's savings, more power to them.”

On the Kajali:

When asked about the Kajali, the Boy-President smiles uncomfortably. “The Kajali. I will be upfront, the Allaneans never really handled these people right. I think a previous administration did that thing where they tried to approach them by sending a warship laden with chocolates as a gesture of goodwill, and it almost got mistaken for an attacking vessel. Highly unprofessional. Almost rude, even.”

“I don't think an Allanean has ever done a Kajali wrong, outside that incident. Regardless, as far as I heard, they refuse to negotiate or deal with us either way. Yes, I would like to have better relations with them. Naturally, since they don't want to have better relations with us, it's quite impossible.”

“Look, it's likely your paper is read in Kajal. As such, I would like to use the opportunity to apologize for that silly chocolate incident, both as a Freeman and as the leader of the United States of Allanea. If the Kajali want to open an embassy here, or deal with us on any other peaceful basis, our door is always open, and their friendship always welcome.”

On Zero-One:

“Now you're looking to cause some mayhem, aren't you? You want me to talk about wanting revenge against 'the machines' or something. Well, no. They beat us in ODW, and they beat us hard. We had no navy to fight with, and they were strong and had good commanders. I don't hold it against them.”

“After the war, I listened to their Queen's advice at least once, but wasn't able to follow up on it – and if she hears me, I hope she accepts my apologies. The mechanoids built the PAG and accepted our money for it, and they sold us key supplies for at least one major humanitarian mission – we were fixing up a nation, UNS Command by name, that was terribly torn up by war, and the Monocorporation provided all we needed to get the job done. What? You didn't hear Allaneans do humanitarian missions? Well, we do.”

“But yes. I think our relations have improved a bit since ODW. You don't see any combat over the city, do you? I am happy that we are trading peacefully with the Queendom, but of course I would like to have closer ties with them. Also, off the record, their guy at the Duma, Dripping Talons, I believe, has himself decorated with copper flames and all. He's one of the more awesome foreign dignitaries round, and if he wants to send that suit for a visit to Liberty-City, he's always welcome.”

On his Personal life:

"Many Menelmacari are particularly uncomfortable with some of your... tendencies. Polygamy comes to mind, public orgies, your continued tolerance of Shiunji Watanabe." - the reporter points out.

The boy blushes. - “Frankly, I understand. I did some freakishly disgusting things in my life, some of them I'm genuinely embarassed by having done. My life is not quite normal, you understand, in the emotional aspect. There's plenty of people who hate me and never met me, and there's apparently a lot of women who are also attracted to me – not because they know Alexander Kazansky, the person, but because they're attracted to me as a sort of mythical founder figure.”

“Physically, I can get all the sex I want. I had it, and then some. But... let us just say I cared – still do – about a certain person who likely doesn't want to have anything to do with me on a romantic level. I can't love anybody else. I tried, foolishly, to compensate for the lack of love with way too much sex, parties, public orgies. It didn't work. It never does.”

“These days, I toned down my habits a lot. I'm not a monk, but let's just say I lead a responsible life.”

“As for Shiunji... he has some really disturbing stuff in that head of his. Ever after the last time he went overseas, I keep watch that this stuff stays in his head and doesn't get put into really disturbing action. But, outside these... desires of his, he's a very talented man. I don't want to offend anybody by saying this, but I am trying to help him, and by help him I mean get him back to more... normal pursuits. I wouldn't want to divulge more detail at this stage because, outside his... issues he's a nice fellow and I'm trying to help him deal with these issues. I'm not letting him... roam out there and do his thing anymore. That's in the past.”

The elf ping-ponged yet another question at Kazansky.

"The Roanians are apparently working up some manner of war crimes tribunal which would feature you as defendant. What's your stance on this and would you attend?"

“Frankly, it's ridiculous. Even if we put aside the fact Allanea doesn't extradite its Freemen, ever, there is still the fact that their court failed to formulate any kind of concrete charges against me, much less present evidence. If Allanean courts used these procedures, I would simply mail such a summons to every single one of the ten billion people in Roania and invie them to 'face trial' in downtown Liberty-City. It would boost hotel business with all those Roanians coming in, if nothing else.”

"Well, generally charges are laid before evidence is presented. If they did so, would you attend?"

“Actually, it is international custom to at least provide a certain amount of evidence before requesting the extradition of foreign citizens. Regardless, no charges have been formulated, no evidence has been demonstrated, the whole thing is so completely, utterly insane I don't know where to start.”

"So is that a yes, or a no?"

“So far no Allanean has ever been extradited to face a foreign court, especially not one in a nation with no respect for normal legal procedure. I don't intend to start with myself.”

“Look, I realize some people see me as some form of monster. They're wrong. I'm just a fellow who happens to have a very tough job. But I realize I can't persuade everybody of that. That's okay. But I would like to request that people at least try to disengage their dislike of me from their dislike of Allanea. Really, it's still okay to visit this country, or buy our products, or be friends with our people even if you do hate me.”

“Also, for those who still mistrust me, several journalists will be employed from now on, upon contract with their respective papers, to report from the White House on a daily basis. My work activities will become as public as they've likely never been before. That is all.”

OOC: This is natrually not a full transcript, but rather what you would read in the relevant paper. Naturally, Kazansky does not give exlcusive interviews without verification. A full transcript would however also available – the only purpose of verification is to ensure he's not edited out of context. If you like, you can post reactions and whatnot.

P.S. Originally done on IRC with the help of the Menelmacari player.
Allanea
15-01-2008, 03:05
Penningsdale University in Penningsdown, Reagania, Juumanistra

Alexander Kazansky had already established his fame as a charitable man by efforts in dozens of nations (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13368372&postcount=8). Orphans in Questaria, college students in Praetonia, Red Cross doctors in Derscon, and people in countless other places now knew him as their benefactor. But more was still to come. The Fieldmarshal of Allanea was not even planning to stop.

Even now, his personal aircraft – in this particular case, a black-painted cargo helicopter – set up slowly to land on one of the lush green lawns of Penningsdale University. He has requested – and the management happily agreed – that local students would be invited to an outdoor lecture given by 'the leader of the United States of Allanea and General-Secretary of the Confederacy of Sovereign States'. But none of the students expected the President of the United States to actually land there in a military chopper.

The door slid open with a clang and Kazansky hopped down. He wore no military uniform, but rather a pair of jeans and a T-shirt marked with the logo of Penningsdale. Kazansky waited patiently for the engine to fall completely silent, and then spoke.

“Good day, Penningsdale!”

There was a murmur of reply.

“This has been advertised as a lecture on the importance of classical studies. And you know what, I think they're very important. I know Hebrew, Latin, Greek, and Quenya, and I would not have gotten to where I am in life if I was not well aware of the works of Catullus, Tacitus, and Plutarchus. And Ovid is pretty much just good plain honest fun,” - the Allanean smirked. - “But I'm going to remind you of a principle of economics. Money is also a language. It's as important as Latin and Greek. And today I will speak of the humanities in the language of money.”

Behind him, an aide moved a large object out of the helicopter. It was an obscenely-large cardboard check, the kind that gets used for such promotional occasion. It was written for two hundred fifty million Juuman inguts. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby give the Penningsdale University for two hundred and fifty million inguts for the purpose of constructing the Theodore Mommzen Classical Studies building.” - Kazansky said, handing the giant check to Pennignsdale's Dean of Humanities.

There was a short round of applause. And then Kazansky spoke again.

“You know why people hate millionaires? They come to universities, and they hand people ridiculously ovesized checks, and they do photo-ops, and they endow useless stufft – that's right, I said useless, like buildings and squares and monuments – and they do nothing that actually makes the lives of individual students better. Well, I am not like that! And I am here to tell you, that check was just a small part of what I'm going to give you!”

There was a pause, and Kazansky continued, producing a bundle of ordinary checks he had filled in in advance. “I am hereby endowing the construction of two large-scale underground parking lots for use by the students” - he gave the Dean another check - “the upgrading of the school's internet access system by a factor of at least three -” another check - “the replacement of every chair on campus by a comfy Allanean Arms Mark IV Ergonomic Campus Chair “ - another check - “The establishment of a two-hundred-million-ingot scholarship fund for humanities students.” - another check - “And, finally, a bottle of beer for every goddamn student on campus!'

The total came out to six hundred million inguts.

“Now is this the best goddamn humanities lecture ever read on this campus, or what?”

Everybody laughed.

At which point the President headed with Juuman students to eat at the local cafeteria, where he promptly tipped a waiter with a 500,000-ingut check.

[done with Juumanistra's kind permission]
Allanea
18-01-2008, 05:38
LIBERTY TIMES
Alexander Kazansky 'gives back to society', upgrades Vinyatirion embassy.

Today, in a speech to the Congress of the United States, Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky declared his desire to 'help the Allanean taxpayer', and vetoed the Menelmacari Assistance Bill 2008 altogether. When asked by Congressmen how he intends to repair relations with Menelmacar and rebuild our embassy there to a new, better standard, he replied: 'I will do it with my own personal money, not the taxpayer's. Unlike you, I actually hold a real job, you know.'

We at the editorial board of Liberty Times are beyond perplexed at this decision by the widely-criticized President. If our reports are true, then Alexander Kirillovich has donated ten billion dollars to the government of Allanea, for the renting or purchase of highly-expensive Vinyatirion land, and the construction of a pair of buildings, one N, and the other N+5 stories tall, on it – tall even by elven standards.

http://www.allskyscrapers.com/gfx/shanghai_international.jpg
The new embassy buildings

Apparently, Kazansky has also funded the construction of a small green park at the foot of those buildings. While we at LT would of course oppose the spending of public money to buy precious Vinyatirion land and turn it into a park, we are completely flabbergasted by this move.

Apparently, Alexander Kazansky's desire to benefit sapient-kind further expressed itself in a ten-billion-dollar donation to the Red Elf Foundation in Menelmacar and to the Sisters of Liberty. For those of you not in the know, the Sisters of Liberty are a C'tanist-libertarian paramilitary/charity organisation popular both in Allanea and in the C'tan-owned world of Erisafevena. Alexander Kazansky donated ten billion dollars each to each of the Orders Militant and Famulous, and double that for each of the Orders Hospitalier.

Suprisingly, Alexander Kazansky has declined to visit Menelmacar or the C'tan while making those donations, and made no press-conference or speeches related to the event. Given the fact the President is often accused of flamboyance and for sacrificing public benefit for personal aggrandizement, this move would come as surprising to most of our readers, both abroad and at home.

We at the Liberty Times staff anticipate a flood of emails from Kazansky's more mindless fans, and would remind the Alexbots that we have our spam filter on and our delete key is armed and ready.
Allanea
20-01-2008, 10:42
Kazansky rubbed his temples for a moment. His aide – an elderly Russian man named Pavel – stood there and waited for his reply. Pavel has followed Kazansky for years, having been at his side since the Second Edolian War. Right now, he was giving Kazansky the response of the relevant authority in Vinyatirion.

"They denied our embassy plan. Apparently it was too big. I told you it would be like that, Mr. President."

"Very well, Pavel." – Kazansky sighed – "Why do they have to make everything so difficult? They did not invite any of our people to their winter party, and now they do this!"

"You know it's not that they have something against Allaneans…" – Pavel began in a mentor's tone.

"No, they likely don't. " -Kazansky sighed – "It's just that it's so goddamn frustrating. No matter what we do, it seems we can't get through to them that this is not fucking Clandonia. We're no longer a steaming wasteland, just abandoned by the Federation government and left almost to rot. I'm no longer a leader of a government-in-exile. We have fifteen nations as our semi-dependants, with a combined population of twenty-five billion. We have dozens and dozens of allies, trade partners, whatever. Our goods are valued all over the world. And yet I have to deal with this. This is just downright unfair, Pavel, you know what?"

Pavel was unperturbed. "Yes, but I don't understand why it riles you up so much, Mr. President."

Kazansky became serious. "Because like it or not, the Menelmacari are important. And I like their culture."

"And because, after the time you spent personally sheltered by their Empress, she is no longer just a foreign leader to you. She is a person to you. You respect her, and you want her to respect you. Her, and her grand-granddaughter of course. Especially, perhaps, the latter."

"I have never been one to let any personal emotions get ahead of Allanea's national interests."

"I have never implied that." – Pavel smiles wisely. – "Now, I have some alternative designs to show you. I think we need to pick two of those and mail them back to the elves, Mr. President."

"Let's see what you've got there."

Eventually, two suggestions were picked out. Naturally all of them were far smaller.

http://images.hotel-rates.com/hotelimages/s/055000/055892A.jpg
Suggestion A: The Classical Look

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/129/355724754_1679ea60ed.jpg
Suggestion B: The Modern Look

These were packed up with huge amounts of plans, explanations, and other relevant papers, and sent to the necessary authorities by rapid mail.
Allanea
23-01-2008, 02:37
OOC: Cleared with the Torontonian player.

IC:

An Executive Bunker deep under Liberty-City

"Aaah, Pavel. What do you bring for me today?" - the Allanean President sipped on his coffee.

The old man shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary, Mr. President. The opposition has cobbled together a bill to cut military spending two percent, if you can believe the gall."

"So they don't like Allanea's soldiers, then?" - grinned Kazansky - "I can see the ads the conservatives will spin. 'The damn commie liberals hate our troops!' Can't blame them really. I kind of prefer my military well-armed and well-trained, myself. So how's that bill going?"

Pavel's face moved into a slight smile. "There's a lot of media support to it, especially from the Liberty Times, you know that outfit, Mr. President."

"Bunch of ivory-tower idiots, yes." - Alex nodded – "Of course, they're idiots with Ph. D.'s, but do go on."

"It's not likely to pass, but if it does, it's going to pass on a really narrow margin. I suppose you can veto it, Mr. President."

"As I will. By the way, how's our research report on the debtor camps in Torontonias going?"

"We got numbers, Mr. President, and it's not looking good. There are at least 12 million people held there, and a combined debt of only 7.5 billion dollars"

"That's not actually bad."

Pavel looked stunned. "How is having that many people in what is essentially slavery.... 'not bad'... Mr. President?"

"Because I can free them."

"What?" - Pavel looked confused. - "We're going to invade Torontonias? They're allied..."

"No, we're not. Put me in contact with the Torontonian government. Oh, and... ready my yacht. I need to be in Torontonias by the New Year."

December, 31st, the Torontonian Systems

The red-painted Executor-class starshp broke into real-space, drives flashing triumpantly. Aboard the ship, the drones that replaced shipboard personnel moved rapidly back and forth as Alexander Kazansky prepared his speech.

"Greetings to all Torontonian debtors.

For centuries, the Allaneans have been the bringers of freedom around the world. In the Hash, on the Iragian shores, in Cemetery Bay, in Antanjyl, the Allanean with his rifle has been the hope of the downtrodden and oppressed and the bane of all kinds of tyrant. Ask Emperor Garf.

But Allaneans do not always spread their freedom by force. Sometimes we prefer the peaceful route to liberty, and your case is not exception.

Today is New Year's Eve. If nobody does something, twelve million of you will see the New Year in what is de-facto slavery.

Happily, I will do something.

As of now, I am signing to checks – one, for the Torontonian government, to the tune of ten billion dollars, to cover all your debts and some of the expenses of your repatriation..The other is for ten billion dollars, and will be distributed among you so you can throw a proper party. You can consider that as a minor New Year's gift to you – but my major New Year's gift to you is your freedom. You will meet the New Year not as slaves or camp inmates, but as freemen – and there's no higher title in the whole wide world.

That is all.

Good night, Torontonians. Happy New Year.

I don't need to wish that you wake up free. I know you will.

May God bless you all."
Torontonias
26-01-2008, 07:16
Garret Perkins was busy sitting at his desk pushing the latest set of papers that happened to make their way across his desk. He was rather pleased with the latest instalment of his plan to rebuild the crushed Torontonian Navy. It had taken several decades of manipulative rule, but he had managed to stay in power that whole time.

He had several “sensitive” folders displayed on his desk, and had therefore requested not to be disturbed. However, there was a wild commotion going on outside his office, which was no small achievement, seeing as the Office was extensively soundproofed. From what he could make out it sounded like someone was trying to get into a meeting with him through his secretary, Muriel Bravekin.

“I’m sorry Mr. Peterton, CFedO Perkins has requested not to be disturbed for the next few hours” implored the voice of his Secretary

“I don’t care Muriel, Perkins need to see this request NOW!” Growled Leonard

“Sorry Leonard, I can’t do anything about it, you know how Garret gets when he’s reviewing ‘Economic Data’”

“Muriel, I can get you sacked! Just let me through!”

Tiring of the argument that was rapidly brewing outside his chambers, Garret decided to conclude the planning for the day. Tapping a few digits into his Communications Unit, he patched himself through to the annex to his office.

“What’s going on here Leonard, you know this is restricted time, most CEO’s and Diplomats would kill for this kind of access”

“Sir, it’s the Alleneans, Alexander Kazansky to be specific, he’s making… quite the proposal. He’s requesting it go straight to the People’s Chamber”

“Well, what is it about? Its not like the People’s Chamber has any real power, they just serve as a rubber stamp to the Corporate whip. What does Allenea want with us anyway? We’ve maintained cool diplomatic relations throughout the years. Hell, I think the only reason we have actual communication channels is because of the Alliance.”

“He wants to Emancipate all the Debtors sir”

“He… He what?”

“He wants to release all the Debtors on the Nubian Station, he’s requesting we repatriate them back into Torontonian Society”

“I wonder how he intends to do that” Perkins snorted “Those debtors don’t get out until their debt is paid off, and I don’t think and national leader has those kind of billions to just throw around”
“Apparently he does” Leonard responded

“What!?”

“He’s offering the Torontonian Government, that is us obviously, 10 Billion Dollars to emancipate all the debtors and ensure that we have a generation of Debt-free Torontonians”

“And he’s sending it to the People’s Chamber?” Garret asked in disbelief

“Yes sir, you know that kind of string-free proposal will get 100% endorsement, which means that not even the Corporate Chamber can overrule it, it’ll go down into law within hours!”

*Sigh* “That’s how it’s going to be then?” asked Garret

“It looks like it sir, it’s already proliferating through the media, Kazansky will be here within the next few hours. Wants to make it a ‘New Years Eve’ present” Leonard sighed wearily

“Well then, there isn’t much we can do to stop this then? I suppose we’re getting money to relocate them and repatriate them, It shouldn’t be too much to swallow. Inform the Corporate Council, I’m sure they’ll want to do some PR spin on this” Garret spoke resignedly

Nubia Station, late New Years Eve

“So Greg, how was you line today?” Asked Jeffery as he munched on a Sandwich

“Oh not bad Jeff, a little slow, I guess the Corps are outsourcing battery production again. I figure it isn’t long before the move us all to a new component that’s in demand right now” Replyed Gregory, while sipping a cup of terribly weak cafeteria coffee “How are your folks doing?”

“Oh their alright, Dad’s getting sicker by the day though, but the clinics here don’t know what’s wrong with him. Damn nurse just grins and says that ‘if I had proper medical insurance he could be transferred off station for more sophisticated medical diagnostic”

“That’s criminal, but then again what else isn’t in this hellhole? Just last week Betty got robbed getting back to that hovel we call a home with her grocery allotment, had to spend my weeks credits to get more on the black market. That’ll set me back at least another two weeks with the interest.” Gregory replied angrily

“Yeah… How long have you been here? I know we haven’t known each other very long, since I’ve only been here a few months.” Jeff inquired

“Upwards of seventeen years today actually, you know what, it IS seventeen years today. You know what today is?”

“What?” Jeff said flatly

“It’s New Years Eve! We should do something to celebrate, anything to help us relax after today’s work” Greg said excitedly

“Greg, I don’t know what you’re getting at, there isn’t a whole lot to do down here that won’t set us back months in debt, plus what makes it any different?”

“Well, its seventeen years to the day of being thrown in here for, so that makes it a birthday of sorts…” Greg probed

“So what? Did you expect me to get you a present to commemorate seventeen years of “humble service” to our corporate overlords?” Jeff snarked

“Well I don’t know I…” Greg was cut off by the PA system blowing to life with the ‘to attention’ signal.

Attention, attention, this is an official message being broadcast over all channels, this is not a drill, all debtors please report to designated stations….

…Message Commencing….

Greetings to all Torontonian debtors.

For centuries, the Allaneans have been the bringers of freedom around the world. In the Hash, on the Iragian shores, in Cemetery Bay, in Antanjyl, the Allanean with his rifle has been the hope of the downtrodden and oppressed and the bane of all kinds of tyrant. Ask Emperor Garf.

But Allaneans do not always spread their freedom by force. Sometimes we prefer the peaceful route to liberty, and your case is not exception.

Today is New Year's Eve. If nobody does something, twelve million of you will see the New Year in what is de-facto slavery.

Happily, I will do something.

As of now, I am signing to checks – one, for the Torontonian government, to the tune of ten billion dollars, to cover all your debts and some of the expenses of your repatriation. The other is for ten billion dollars, and will be distributed among you so you can throw a proper party. You can consider that as a minor New Year's gift to you – but my major New Year's gift to you is your freedom. You will meet the New Year not as slaves or camp inmates, but as freemen – and there's no higher title in the whole wide world.

That is all.

Good night, Torontonians. Happy New Year.

I don't need to wish that you wake up free. I know you will.

May God bless you all.

…End Message

The two of them just sat there in stunned silence. Greg was shaking a little and Jeff had a tear running down his eye. Both of them felt the emotion building up when:

Attention, Attention, this is an official message from Station Level 18B Foreman, please stand by…

“All Debtors, as you no doubt have realized, the Allenean Philanthropist has set you free, you are no longer bound to service to the Corporations that run this sector. You are free to go back to your families and proceed to the nearest elevation platform for processing and eventual departure from this station to your home settlements.

In Processing you will be reissued a Torontonian Citizen Badge, as well as having all your accounts unfrozen. You will then be placed on transport off this station back to your homesteads. Due to the overwhelming generosity of the Allenean, you will also be issued cheques for 10,000I each, for ‘damage and suffering’ compensation.

Enjoy reclaiming your old lives, much has changed. That is all

The two burst into tears and laughter as they lunged over the table and embraced each other in a hug of emotion. They could feel the whole section reverberating with cheers and shouts as all of the debtors, many of whom had been there most of their adult lives, were now free to do as they pleased. The feeling was unexplainable.

TCIN Broadcast, New Years Day

…Not to be outdone by the Allenean President Alexander Kazansky, a Corporate Alliance consisting of Frankenplaz Industries, Torontonian Electronics Consolidated (Parent company of HiWired!) and the Rosie Jutenburg Capital Health Corporation has stepped in and purchased the entire Debtor Prison system in Torontonias.

For those not in the know, the limited Prison system was not contained to the Nubia station, there were a handful of smaller colonies designed to absorb the overflow.

The Alliance announced the permanent abolishment of the Debtor system in Torontonias, it will be replaced with the Alliance sponsored program of debt recovery where heavily indebted workers will be able to sign on with one of the Alliance Corporations and be paid a living wage as well as have a percent of his debt be written off every year for a period no longer than fifteen years. The Write-off would be considered a ‘bonus’ and would be directly linked for performance.

In a press release the Alliance stated

“We think that having Millions of Torontonian citizens, regardless of education or ability performing menial tasks such as battery assembly or circuit manufacturing is a travesty. Under the new system the indebted workers will be able to maintain their previous lives, with a few minor adjustments, and have their debt paid off within one lifetime. Thus allowing productive Torontonian citizens to lead normal lives rather than become slaves to a faceless corporation.

Its time to bring Torontonias into the modern day, by shedding one more oppressive, ancient institution.”
Allanea
30-01-2008, 11:17
A bunker deep down under Liberty-City

The leader of the United States of Allanea was lying face down, naked, as a servant massaged his back, slowly, carefully. Kazansky closed his eyes as the elf girl's fingers worked over his shoulders, and moved, slowly, meticulously, down the the length of his back.

When the Boy-President was naked, few people – except Allaneans, mind – would guess that here was a powerful demigod that could pluck the very lives out of his enemies with his mere thought. His preferred body – his true form - was that of a human male of about eighteen, almost unnaturally slender and tall, with long fingers an palms like those of a piano player or a surgeon. His skin was almost impossibly pale, and his black-rimmed glasses lay folded next to his head.

"Mmm... yes, Naralle, that's quite right, you do know what you're doing..." - he hummed as the elf's hands migrated to his lower back, moving in slow, circular motions. - "Now... aaaah, that's great... So... what's up with the Kahanistani people?"

"They're still economically stuck... they don't seem to be willing to expand their Special Economic Zones, so they're not going to be progressing much anywhere, at least not soon."

"Do you think they're going to be changing their minds about these zones? Could they shut them down?"

The girl paused her motions, her palm pressed gently against the leader's skin. "Mmm... good question. I don't think they'll actually expand the zones, but they won't shut them down either. The Praetonians are good at what they do."

"Mmm... keep working, dear."

Naralle resumed her motions, while Alexander Kazansky pondered the options he had. They were few.

"I don't think we can do much for them as of now. What about the Facehuggerians?”

“Pavel made the inquiries. Central Facehuggeria has a fund for elven children who lost parents in the pre-civil war camps, and other victims of the camps, and it seems they need money.”

“I'll make inquiries into this. Now, perhaps we need to improve stuff in Allanea itself.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I ran the numbers yesterday – no, no, keep yourself there, that's great – I ran the numbers – I believe it is time for this nation to increase the amount of it's college students. I wish to fund full three-year tuitions for one million students in the real sciences. 120 billion dollars would do it, including the bureaucracy involved.”

“Holy..”

“We have a lot of historians. The national interest in history, in the humanities in general, is important. I do not oppose it. As a matter of fact... I have made a donation of a billion dollars to the National Library of Humanities today. But we need at least a few engineers. We need these people for the day-to-day maintenance work of civilisation, you might say.”

“That's true...” the elf girl's voice seemed away, somehow, her hands paused slightly below Kazansky's waist line. The massagist stood there, dreamy-eyed and motionless, as the Count of Centreville turned his head, smirking. “Naralle, do you intend to... oh.”

He turned himself on his back, causing Naralle to gasp.

“What? Have you never seen a naked man before? You are a masseur, aren't you?”

The girl blushed suddenly. “An apprentice masseur, actually. And I...”

To most cultures, Kazansky might look passable, perhaps pretty. But he was damn close to what the standard of male beauty was in Allanean art and cinema. The young elf paused for a moment. “And you, too...”

There are certain emotions that humanoid males find it difficult to hide. Especially naked humanoid males.

“Quite so. But unlike you, I'm not embarassed by it.” - Kazansky smiled as he got up. - “Come here.”

She didn't resist as he kissed her gently, holding her in his arms as if he wanted to protect her from something.

She realized of course there could be no love here. Only a short fling at least. But for the moment she didn't care. She was held safe as a jewel in an armored vault – the boy was taller than her, and his arms were around her, holding her body again his, the warmth of his body burning even through the trainers she was wearing. And then he lifted her like a feather, carrying her in his arms and laying her gently on the massage table.

“I guess we'll formalize the donation transfers later.”
Allanea
01-02-2008, 23:16
Seer King Hotel, Duat

"I don't think this planet has been a good influence on you, Sasha.” - Wilhelm Stossel shook his head. - “Look at you.”

Kazansky was sitting on his bed, his head drooping. A half-finished bottle of vodka rested on the hotel table and two more were empty already, lying in the waste-basked. The President poured himself another glass. “And has this planet been a good inluence on you, Will? Look at you. Standing there in that uniform all smug and superior.”

"You're drunk.”

"Yes, I am drunk. And yes, I feel like utter and absolute fucking shit. Now, did you purchase the toys like I told you to?”

"Yes, Sasha. Five billion dollars in toys and elven fairy tales translated into English. They'll be ready for transfer in a few months. Now, will you explain to me what is wrong with you, for Heaven's sake?”

Alex raised his head and peered at his apprentice. “Haven't you never had these moments, Will? Where you feel like utter shit for no good reason and no matter what happens, you don't feel like anything will ever go right again? These moments where the hopeless darkness that's always there, at the back of your mind, always lurking, comes out and swallows you?”

Stossel took a step back. “Eh... I guess...”

"Well, it sometimes happens. It's nothing that just happened. You can't help. I'm going to be over it soon. Really. Just... when will the toys be ready?”

"Two months, tops.”

"Good. Tell the hotel staff I'm going to be reserving this room for two months, two weeks, and two days. The last 16 days are in case something goes wrong and they're late.” - Kazansky suddenly rested the glass on the table and raised the bottle to his lips, drinking rapidly, the vodka dripping down his chin.

"Sasha, what the fuck is wrong with you? – Stossel was now genuinely terrified.

"What, you didn't know I drink?” - Kazansky smiled sadly - “Have you not been to... any event with me?”

"You drink... but not like that. What is wrong?”

"Nothing a few drinks won't fix. Now... go. I want you to go to Facehuggeria ahead of time and talk to the Elvish – yes, they say 'Elvish', don't ask me why- Elvish Survivor Organisation, talk to them about distributing the toys and fairy tales. I'll stay here.”

Stossel tried to argue. “But...”

"There are elven orphans out there who've not seen a toy in their lives. Worry about them, not me.”