NationStates Jolt Archive

The sun rose steadily across the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Atlantic Ocean and the beaches of Blair Island. Waves crashed steadily upon the shores, and seagulls yapped contentedly overhead, seeking their morning meal of fish or newly born turtles. Farther inland, the dew upon the grass began to dry, slowly, forming tiny droplets of water upon each blade. A dog chased a cat through a field, a rabbit hides beneath a bush thicket with its babies, and a squirrel family chased each other around the trunk of an oak tree.

The towns were just stirring as the sun began to rise. Farmers across the nation had long since risen, and proceeded to feed livestock and oversee the growing of their crops with delicate care. Towns men opened shops, dined in the local diners which they fancied, and school children made their way to the bus stop to deliver them to their respective schools.

Though they were in the winter season they had yet to have snow fall upon the ground though temperatures did fall frequently into the twenties. Presently however, it was a comfortable sixty five degrees. All was comfortable and peaceful on Blair Island, as it had been for as long as almost anyone could remember.

Almost anyone. Comrade General Thomas Gage knew of a time where things were not peaceful for the people of Blair Island. He recalled as bombs fell from the sky, shells scorched the earth with incendiary rounds, and screaming hordes of Fascist soldiers poured onto the beaches, seeking to take from the People their homeland and their state. But he had not allowed it.

He, then a young Lieutenant in the People’s Army of Blair Island, had organized, planned, and executed a guerrilla war which saved Blair Island from falling subject to the fascists. And after several hard years of war, pain, and rebuilding, the People knew liberty again. The yellow and red banner of Blair Island still flew from the People’s Square. The People’s Square, a large and beautified monument to the People’s Great Patriotic War against the Fascist invader, was also the location for the new Presidential Office. The Office was a large building designed to facilitate both the President and his staff. Two guards dressed in their immaculate black parade uniforms and red berets stood guard in front of the entrance gate, and three more guards patrolled the inner court yard. Beyond the Office however, the People’s Square held several large stone monuments to the soldiers who fought in the Great Patriotic War, as well as monuments to the Socialist State. On the opposite side of the square, sat the People’s University of Kedalshaft, the nations premier university. It was a large school, with some twenty thousand attendants. Other towns held community colleges, however this was the elite school of the tiny nation.

President Michaels stood at his window, looking out across the People’s Square and at his Capital City. It was a lovely town, the largest in the nation holding approximately one fifth of the nation’s population. He was just beginning his tenure in office, part of the seven year terms they were allotted by the Blair Island Constitution, which it was his duty to uphold and defend. At forty-six years old, he was not an old man, so he still had the youth and vigorousness of his younger compatriots in the desire to make changes in the world. He exited his Office room and walked down the hall. Pretty aides in sharp dresses smiled and greeted him as he passed, and his cabinet members nodded and bade him good morning. He returned the gestures.

As he exited the Presidential building into the cool morning, he heard the national anthem being played over a loud speaker as it was every morning for the University. He listened to the melody contentedly, as he began another day in the charming utopia of Blair Island.




They say there’s a place
where dreams have all gone
They never said where
but I think I know
It’s miles through the night
just over the dawn
on the road that will take me home

I know in my bones
I’ve been here before
The ground feels the same
though the land’s been torn
I’ve a long way to go
The stars tell me so
on this road that will take me home

Love waits for me ‘round the bend
Leads me endlessly on
Surely sorrows shall find their end
and all our troubles will be gone

And I’ll know what I’ve lost
and all that I’ve won
when the road finally takes me home

And when I pass by
don’t lead me astray
Don’t try to stop me
Don’t stand in my way
I’m bound for the hills
where cool waters flow
on this road that will take me home

Love waits for me ‘round the bend
Leads me endlessly on
Surely sorrows shall find their end
and all our troubles will be gone

And we’ll know what I’ve lost
and all that we’ve won
when the road finally takes me home

I’m going home
I’m going home
I’m going home

The day wore on, much as all days did. Factories produced automobiles to be sold throughout the world, farm materials for their own populace or for export, as well as other necessities to sell internally or abroad. Farmers concluded their rounds, as the animals were fed and the season was not right for harvesting, their days job was finished. Men came home from their respective jobs that evening to their families, or to the local bars or other gathering places for young men who wanted to meet up with buddies for a fun evening.

Comrade General Thomas Gage sat comfortably in his office in the General Staff Head Quarters, also inside the People's Square in Kedalshaft. He reviewed readiness reports from the various townships and cities, seeing that the People's Army of Blair Island could hold up against invaders. The PABI relied on several types of military doctrines, including pocket defense and ultimately the guerrilla warfare doctrine. Should an enemy attack, they were ready to turn their respective towns or cities into fortifications, using trenches or the individual buildings themselves as choke points. The People's Army was not designed to be an offensive force, but could be made into one if need be, at which case the entirity of the force, each towns respective military unit, would be transferred from its defensive position could be made into an offensive force, though this was not seen as being necessary in the near future. He certainly hoped that there wouldn't be cause for an offensive war, but if one was required he would gladly fight for his homeland.


The Military of Blair Island consisted of some two hundred fifty thousand men, each part of a respective militia from their home town. The City of Kedalshaft contributed its own brigade to the PABI, the 1st Kedalshaft Brigade. Kedalshaft was also the location for the main People's Air Force base. The People's Air Force consisted of two hundred fighter and interceptor craft, as well as some one hundred and twenty fighter bombers. Strategic bombers were not needed, as the PAF was not an offensive force, and if it did attempt an offensive operation it would try to do so as part of a Coalition, which would bolster its strategic capabilities. In short, while the Military High Command of Blair Island recognised that it was an extremely small nation when compared with the other behemoths across the globe, they was certain it could hold its own when the time came.


The "navy" was almost non-existant. It was infact simply a series of freighters which were normally used for foreign exports that would be federalised into national service should they need the capability to transport troops over seas without the benefit of air transport. The only naval force they had was the 1 Commando Regiment, a one thousand man unit and one of two standing military units in Blair Island. They were an elite unit of full time professional soldiers, the best light infantrymen that the military had to offer. The other standing unit was the Special Air Service regiment, though in actuality more of a battalion. It consisted of three hundred special operations soldiers, elitely trained in the art of guerrilla warfare, counter insurgency, counter-terrorism, and all other types of missions which a special operations team would need to function in. Headed by Colonel James Maloney, they were some of the best of the best, theoretically. However they had yet to be tested in battle. Only time would tell if they were as effective as the readiness reports claimed they were....


In short, Gage was pleased with what he saw of his forces. The men, while not eager for battle in that they did not wish to see their homeland exposed to war once more, were sound in that should a battle come, they would willingly face it. The majority were competant in soldiering. Most men grew up on farms or in the countryside, and thus the idea of soldiering was not new to them, nor was the rugged lifestyle and mentality of woodsmenship. Again, he knew they could perform splendidly in that respect. Another advantage they had, was their superb knowledge of their home ground and terrain. This resulted in many stalemates as all sides found themselves perpetually on equal footing against the home team. The home team knew every nook and cranny of their township and outer areas, but the terrain was not particularly different than their own lands. While this frustrated Junior Officers seeking to impress seniors, it certainly pleased Gage to know his men were masters of their lands, a feat which could only translate into serious problems for any opposing force.


As he finished reviewing his last reports, and proceeded to head home to his wife, he did so with a smile on his face as he did every day. He loved his job, he loved the People's Army, and most of all, he loved Blair Island.

It was colder this day, and a cool wind swept over the dirt road which Michael Rhodes walked. The trees, oaks, pines, all types, swayed easily and filled the air with the calming noise of their branches rustling. Just shy of being a full adult, at age seventeen, he was still old enough to serve in the People's Army of Blair Island. Actually, he had been in the PABI for three years.

"Has it been that long?" He thought to himself. He sighed. While he loved it, he found it hard to believe that the time had passed so quickly. His thoughts turned then to the dust swirling across the road, some grainlets kicking up into his eyes. He wiped them out grunting in frustration. He continued walking down the trail, the path to the training depot was a long way off still yet.


He had resigned himself to a long walk when behind him he heard a vehicle coming up quickly behind him. He turned and saw a beat up pickup truck with an elongated bed driving up to meet him, with numerous guys in half-hazard jeans and white t-shirts hanging out the back. His best friends and platoon mates of the 1st platoon, C Company, of the Emmitsburgh Rifles Battalion.

"Hey Mike!" Called out Richard Williams. Richard was a man of medium height but very muscular, much like Michael, some even said they looked alike as though fraternal brothers. They certainly felt like it. He smiled and raised his hand.

"You want us to stop?" Asked his other mate George, hanging his head out of the passenger window. "Ride with us eh?"

"Sure thing, why not?" Michael replied.

"Then hop in the back!" Another one of his mates he couldn't see said. "You're slowing us down!" He laughed and hurried to the rear of the truck and climbed in. Once in he squatted down on the side of the truck's bed, next to Richard and his other friends. There were nine people in total on the truck. Three were in the front, while the other six managed to pile into the back. Richard, Henry, Christopher, Brandon, Johnny, and Patrick, they formed the third squad of first platoon. Only person missing was their squad leader, an older man named Sergeant Matthew Gables. He was in his late twenties, and was a friend to all of them. They'd all grown up together and Matthew had been their "Big Brother" since each of them was young.


"So guys, anyone know what we're going to be doing this weekend?" George asked.


Henry replied, "Dunno. Heard we'll be wargaming though."


"I hope it's a trench warfare exercise, thats relaxing and relatively easy to do. Less effort to exert, unless I'm mistaken. I'm not much interested in boonies humping this weekend," replied Brandon.


"Whats wrong with you mate?" Patrick spat. "Are you bloody serious?"


"Quite!" Brandon replied back. "I'd rather if we spent the weekend training and drilling, but our wargaming to be trench combat."


"Eh, too much running for me," Michael laughed. “At least in ambushes all we do is sit around and wait for an enemy to show up. In Trench warfare we have to climb out of the trench and sprint at the enemy. Seriously though, if we execute that in an actual war, wouldn’t we be cut to bits by machine gun fire?” No one responded. Noone wanted to contemplate death, though being in the military it was constantly encircling them. Though there had been no war for almost a century, they still knew that a war could arise at any time and call them into battle for their nation.


Noone spoke for several hours, until they arrived at their respective training station. Some other squads had already formed up. The Heavy Weapons Squad of First Platoon had also just arrived. They greeted each other with waves and grins and then made their ways with ruck sacks in arms to the barracks. After placing away their belongings into their barracks, and claimed bunks, they returned outside to the grass courtyard where several soldiers were raising the Blair Island flag, which fluttered majestically in the breeze. More troops from the battalion were coming in, mostly dressed in civillian clothing but some did arrive in their khaki uniforms. The majority would simply change into them in the morning after revielle. And so they spent the rest of the evening outside, waiting for their mates in other platoons and companies to arrive, playing sports or cards, watching the tele inside the mess tent, or other forms of recreation. This night would be a fun filled break for the men. Tommorrow would begin their weekend of training.

OOC: I hope this is acceptable. Please tell me if it is not.

Sitting at his desk at the Foreign Ministry's headquarters in Tzargrad, Ivan Rucinsky listened to the musings of his secretary; a pretty young woman from the countryside who sought to make a life for herself in the city. Today, she was talking about her love-life.

Ivan let out a small chuckle as he picked up one of the reports from the pile on his desk. Silently studying the report while his secretary sorted papers, he read that it was about the new nation of Blair Island; a nation that was relatively unknown. He smiled as he placed the report on the desk and looked at his secretary. He knew that she was a diplomat in training and since he was going to be in Meadonia for the Global Leadership Summit, he would be unable to visit Blair Island. "Zoya, do you think you can do me a favor?"

Zoya stared silently at Ivan for a few minutes before a small smile crept upon her face. "What do you want me to do, sir?" Ivan held the report about Blair Island in his hands and gave it to Zoya to read. "I know you are training to be a diplomat, Zoya, but I want you to visit Blair Island on my behalf. You will gain valuable experience from this visit, Zoya. You were talking about how you were single earlier and this visit may see you leave with a lover."

Zoya smiled as she studied the report. "I do not know if I should, sir. I may offend the Blair Islanders or unwittingly make them reject diplomatic relations with Neo-Ixania. As for finding a lover; it is possible that I may find one there."

It took about ten minutes of discussion before Zoya accepted visiting Blair Island on the Foreign Minister's behalf. Ivan Rucinsky decided to have a letter sent to the government of Blair Island to notify them of the planned visit.

"To who it may concern in the Government of Blair Island,

On behalf of the people and government of Neo-Ixania, I welcome your nation to the international stage. The purpose of this letter is to seek your permission to allow one of our diplomats, Ms. Zoya Tokarev, to visit your nation and meet with your nation's leaders to discuss the exchanging of embassies and the establishing of diplomatic relations. Miss Tokarev is a member of one of Neo-Ixania's most famous families in the Arms Manufacturing industry and she is hopeful that this visit will provide her, a diplomat-in-training, with valuable experience.

I hope that you will accept her visiting your nation. Please do not hesistate to contact the Foreign Ministry of Neo-Ixania if you have any questions. We look forward to diplomatic relations between the Empire of Neo-Ixania and Blair Island.

Signed,
Ivan Rucinsky"

Ivan Rucinsky had the letter sent and told Zoya to wait for a reply from the Blair Islanders before she would leave Neo-Ixania.

-snip-

OOC: The post was very acceptable mate, I welcome diplomatic relations! I just need a minute to respond ICly. Getting final preparations for some tests I have to take early tommorrow morning done....

OOC: The post was very acceptable mate, I welcome diplomatic relations! I just need a minute to respond ICly. Getting final preparations for some tests I have to take early tommorrow morning done....

OOC: Thank you. It will be nice for our nations to become friends.

http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r119/Wanderjar/200px-Coat_of_arms_of_BlairIsland_s.png

We welcome open relations with the People of Neo-Ixania. By all means feel free to send representatives to our nation to discuss various matters of diplomacy. We are a nation of peace and kind, good mannered people, who above all else value equality and liberty. We do hope you shall find it to be a nation of utopian standards, and our Friendship shall be eternal.

Have your representative(s) land at the International Airport in Kedalshaft. There a limeosine shall await him/her arrival. The delegate will then be driven to the Presidential Office and given a special room in the Guest Suite, which I trust will be up to your highest standards.

May we see you soon,


~Comrade President Michaels of the People's Republic of Blair Island

Sitting in her seat on the airplane as it flew to Blair Island, Zoya Tokarev silently looked out the window and thought about her meeting in Blair Island. She felt a bit nervous during the flight but remained calm; all she could think about was the meeting. She rehearsed her lines in her mind and tried to memorize all of them. She would leave Blair Island with news of a friendship; not news of rejection.

Five minutes later, an attendant said that the plane would land at the International Airport in Kedalshaft. Zoya continued to remain calm as she prepared to leave the airplane. The plane gently landed on the airport's runway and an attendant opened the door for Zoya, who calmly and silently walked out of the plane with her briefcase at her side. Dressed in the best clothes she could find (which made her look like a wealthy secretary), Zoya looked at the buildings she could see in the distance and thought about the meeting. A memory of the men who would look at her back in Neo-Ixania filled her mind and she thought about male Blair Islanders admiring her beauty for several minutes. However, it was the meeting that consumed most of her mind's attention.

Zoya was escorted off the airplane by the Blair Island Presidential Red Guard, the security forces for the President himself. Mostly ceremonial, as it was never anticipated that any harm would come to any member of the Government, they were trained to handle any eventuality. As she walked down the tarmac towards the lone black limeosine, several guards watched her through their black tinted oakley sunglasses. Fighting the urge to whistle, they followed close behind to maintain the professional security which they were being paid to perform.


She was met by the driver, who smiled and shook her hand, then opened the side door for her and assisted her inside. Afterwards, he shut the door and walked around to the drivers side of the vehicle, and entered. The security forces entered their respective cars as well, and escorted the limeosine from the Airport to the Presidential Office.


Upon their arrival, her door was opened by another guardsmen, and behind him was President Michaels himself.

"Welcome to Blair Island!" He said warmly. "Please, come with me and don't worry about your baggage. It shall be taken up to the guest suite. Shall I show you to the Government Cafe? Its really quite good."

While the Government meeting between the beautiful Zoya from Neo-Ixania and President Michaels was commencing, so too was the practice warring of the Emmitsburgh Rifles Battalion. They had awoken that morning to the blaring of trumpets bidding their waking, and they had sluggishly awoken and donned their tan coloured uniforms. Heading out into the court yard, they lined up in even rows and proceeded to perform calesthenics for one half hour, then they ran, chorousing throughout the dense woods that they found themselves in.


The end found them in a long series of trenches, much as Private Brandon had hoped. He sneered and nudged Johnny, who grimaced as they were corraled into the deep pits. Firing steps had been laid, and wood and concrete bunkers were assembled every thirty yards to allow for machinegunners to have adequate protection from enemy guns. The took their respective positions throughout the trenches, squad by squad, platoon by platoon, and divided into their companies areas of responsibility. Opposite them, another battalion or even a Regiment would be in another trench or fortification, and eventually they may recieve orders to assault or they themselves may be assaulted. Such was the way of warfare.


Sergeant Matthew Gables sat along a wall, his eyes shut but awake. As the squad cracked jokes and told stories, he interjected with jocularly jeering comments or simple laughter. His helmet was lain in his lap, and his wide brimmed hat covered his eyes from the rising sun.


The hours passed with inactivity, and boredom set in. They had their rifles and heavy weapons, FN-FAL type weapons, and they cleaned and inspected them. Then they did it a second time. And a third. Then a forth. Anything to kill the boredom once the conversations ran out. They knew that their commanders were plannning operations and such, but who knew when they'd execute? Only time would tell. Soon enough though, the fighting would begin, and the new recruits among them, there were several newly formed squads, would experiance the Blair Island way of warfare in all its fury and terror.

The winter storms were beating down on Halsanki, the capital city of Northern Rangeria, a principality located in the northern hemisphere and touching the Arctic Circle. Wind howled from the sea, bringing in torrents of snow to the Halsanki harbour as well as keeping the streets quiet on a normally busy weekday. Nonetheless, deliveries were made, stores were open, and the government functioned as it should be: a war- and climate-hardened people, the Northern Rangerians were used to such extremes of cold. And what cold could not be kept at bay with heavy clothing, could easily be remedied with hot tea with a touch of Putouksenposki vodka.

A similar "national drink" sat on the table of Prince Mikhail IV, the constitutional monarch of this wintry nation. A man of twenty-five years (born only a matter of weeks before the Principality gained its independence), he was a man who had grown to his task of being the monarch of his people. Of course, he was not an absolute monarch, but he still held sway in the hearts and minds of his people thanks to his liberal policies. And that also gave him some leverage in the face of career-politicians.

He took a sip from his tea as he studied the map the Minister of the Exterior, Duke Aalthone, had given him. It showed the emergence of a new nation - this People's Republic of Blair Island - and its neighbouring areas. Mikhail looked up from this map and the papers around it to the duke himself; a man with iron-grey hair and the demeanor of a scholar.

"You believe it would benefit us to form diplomatic ties with this nation?" Mikhail asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, Your Highness", the old duke answered, his fingers pulling at the cuffs of his shirt - a habit that Duke Aalthone himself seemed perfectly unaware of. "The reports state that the People's Republic's navy is... shall we say... minimal. It would greatly boost the situation of the shipyards if we could get a contract to build up their fleet"

Mikhail could not help but smile at the prospects of the duke. Despite the polite tone in this man's official letters, he always seemed to be thinking of what could be gained from this and that relationship.

"I am certain that the Neo-Ixanians will make a similar offer as part of their diplomatic talks, my dear duke", he said with a small smile on his lips. The Principality respected the Empire and considered it a friend, and the pending state visit by the Empress kept a constant buzz of other, more... intimate alliances.

"True, Your Highness", Aalthone admitted reluctantly. "But I am certain that should Comrade President Michaels accept such a deal, the formation of diplomatic ties would still be beneficial in opening other doors for trade in the region as a whole."

"No arguments there", Mikhail said calmly and looked at the maps again. "So, how do you suggest we continue in this matter?"

"A personal envoy would probably be the best course of action, Your Highness. Perhaps the Minister of Trade..."

"No", Mikhail said sternly. "Mr Peckari will have his hands full if the Kostemetsians show interest in our feelers about the KATK. Besides, the Neo-Ixanian ambassador is not a cabinet member. Us sending one could be interpreted as a diplomatic pissing contest."

"I see, Your Highness. A definite diplomatic faux pas, then. Who do you propose, then?"

"Hmm... the deputy ambassador to Neo-Ixania might be a more prudent choice. The Imperial court knows him so sending him would not endanger our relationship with the Empire. What was his name again?"

"Rante, Your Highness. Juhann Rante."

"Not a nobleman, I presume?" Mikhail asked, looking up from the map again.

"No, Your Highness. He worked for the Ministry before Lord Stengar asked him to be a member of his staff."

"A reliable man, would you say? Not one to cause a disturbance either in relations to Neo-Ixania or Blair Island?"

"Quite, Your Highness", Aalthone admitted, nodding.

"Good, good... Have Lord Stengar send out feelers to the People's Republic. See if they would be interested in another diplomatic visit after Ms Tokarev."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

-snip-



Send diplomats as you wish mate, I'll still meet with you even though Michaels is in a meeting. You can meet with someone from the People's Congress or the Prime Minister.

Zoya was escorted off the airplane by the Blair Island Presidential Red Guard, the security forces for the President himself. Mostly ceremonial, as it was never anticipated that any harm would come to any member of the Government, they were trained to handle any eventuality. As she walked down the tarmac towards the lone black limeosine, several guards watched her through their black tinted oakley sunglasses. Fighting the urge to whistle, they followed close behind to maintain the professional security which they were being paid to perform.


She was met by the driver, who smiled and shook her hand, then opened the side door for her and assisted her inside. Afterwards, he shut the door and walked around to the drivers side of the vehicle, and entered. The security forces entered their respective cars as well, and escorted the limeosine from the Airport to the Presidential Office.


Upon their arrival, her door was opened by another guardsmen, and behind him was President Michaels himself.

"Welcome to Blair Island!" He said warmly. "Please, come with me and don't worry about your baggage. It shall be taken up to the guest suite. Shall I show you to the Government Cafe? Its really quite good."

"It is nice to meet you, President Michaels. I am Zoya Tokarev; a diplomat of the Empire of Neo-Ixania. I am interested in visiting the Government Cafe."

Zoya studied President Michaels with her eyes for a few seconds before she followed him to the Government Cafe; assuming that it would be the location of their meeting or a place where they could talk and enjoy Blair Island delicacies. When they arrived at the Cafe, Zoya took her seat and fixed her blouse before smiling at President Michaels

"President, I was sent here to establish diplomatic relations between Blair Island and Neo-Ixania. The Foreign Ministry of Neo-Ixania believes that it would be good to exchange embassies."

"It is nice to meet you, President Michaels. I am Zoya Tokarev; a diplomat of the Empire of Neo-Ixania. I am interested in visiting the Government Cafe."

Zoya studied President Michaels with her eyes for a few seconds before she followed him to the Government Cafe; assuming that it would be the location of their meeting or a place where they could talk and enjoy Blair Island delicacies. When they arrived at the Cafe, Zoya took her seat and fixed her blouse before smiling at President Michaels

"President, I was sent here to establish diplomatic relations between Blair Island and Neo-Ixania. The Foreign Ministry of Neo-Ixania believes that it would be good to exchange embassies."

"Quite. We would also enjoy this exchange. By all means build one one in the Abassador Lane. It is a road leading out past the People's Square and is dedicated to embassies, however it is mostly empty now. We would gladly fill it back up though!" He stopped as several civillians inside the Government Cafe exited. He looked for a curious look upon Ms. Zoya's face. "Do you know why there are average citizenry here?" He asked her, however he didn't wait for a response. "Our nation is totally open. The populace and the Government are not kept apart, this way the Government exists to serve the people. Afterall, that is the government's function, is it not? Provide a secure, safe, yet free existance to the people of a give geographic landscape? That is what our founders believed, and what I uphold. There aren't many who believe as we do anymore though." He waited for her response, curious to know of the nature of the Neo-Ixanian Government.

"Quite. We would also enjoy this exchange. By all means build one one in the Abassador Lane. It is a road leading out past the People's Square and is dedicated to embassies, however it is mostly empty now. We would gladly fill it back up though!" He stopped as several civillians inside the Government Cafe exited. He looked for a curious look upon Ms. Zoya's face. "Do you know why there are average citizenry here?" He asked her, however he didn't wait for a response. "Our nation is totally open. The populace and the Government are not kept apart, this way the Government exists to serve the people. Afterall, that is the government's function, is it not? Provide a secure, safe, yet free existance to the people of a give geographic landscape? That is what our founders believed, and what I uphold. There aren't many who believe as we do anymore though." He waited for her response, curious to know of the nature of the Neo-Ixanian Government.

OOC: Are you Blair Island?

"I shall tell the Foreign Ministry that they can send a diplomat to an embassy built on Ambassador Lane. I am not an ambassador; only a diplomat who arranges the construction of embassies, etc. As for the function of the Government; its function is to serve the people but there are many governments who serve themselves. My nation may be an absolute monarchy but we do believe in serving the citizens. You will see hospitals built for sick children for example; the Empress herself built one in her crusade to help the sick children of lower class parents."

"It is good to hear that you care for your citizens, President Michaels. It is a good trait of politicians: sincere care for the citizens they manage. Many politicians seek to serve their own interests. To be honest, I do not talk much about this topic at home. I usually talk about more feminine topics such as clothes, love and the like. However, I was inclined to politics since I was a teenager. My father is one of the leaders of the Tokarev family; a family famous for its role in the Arms Manufacturing industry."

OOC: Are you Blair Island?

"I shall tell the Foreign Ministry that they can send a diplomat to an embassy built on Ambassador Lane. I am not an ambassador; only a diplomat who arranges the construction of embassies, etc. As for the function of the Government; its function is to serve the people but there are many governments who serve themselves. My nation may be an absolute monarchy but we do believe in serving the citizens. You will see hospitals built for sick children for example; the Empress herself built one in her crusade to help the sick children of lower class parents."

"It is good to hear that you care for your citizens, President Michaels. It is a good trait of politicians: sincere care for the citizens they manage. Many politicians seek to serve their own interests. To be honest, I do not talk much about this topic at home. I usually talk about more feminine topics such as clothes, love and the like. However, I was inclined to politics since I was a teenager. My father is one of the leaders of the Tokarev family; a family famous for its role in the Arms Manufacturing industry."

OOC: Yep, forgot to log off. :(

bump

Michaels nodded at what she was saying, then continued. "You may remain in Blair Island for as long as you wish. The guest room shall remain yours until such a time as you wish to leave. Feel free to tour about the country and see the land as you wish, watch our military in their monthly training excercises, or whatever you wish. But now, let us discuss things not of politics. You say you discuss things of more feminine nature at home, please do elaborate. I am curious." He folded his hands and listened.



Company C Trench, Emmitsburg Rifles Battalion Training Center


"Over the top!" Sergeant Gables cried, and Corporal Michael Rhodes rolled out over the mouth. He stood, bringing his rifle close to his chest and began to sprint along side the rest of his battalion towards the enemy position. With everything they had, they ran, the enemy trenches getting closer.

"They're not firing yet," He noted with some curiosity. They got closer. Still they didn't fire. He could see the faces of his opponents clearly now, and still they didn't fire.

Suddenly, an officer cried, "Weapons free!" and then the hell began. Machine guns began chattering throughout the lines, rifles cracked, and submachine guns sputtered bullets with incredible speed. All around him, as the laser rounds impacted with their MILES sensors, they fell to the ground realistically, but in his mind he felt as though it was real.

"Holy christ," He whispered, panting. He jumped over coiled barbed wire, and rolled briefly, then picked himself up and kept going. "I have to reach that trench!" He told himself, then he lept inside. Once inside he fired several rounds down the trench at the two soldiers manning a machine gun. Behind him an enemy trooper brought his rifle to shoulder and readied to fire, then dropped as Sergeant Gables mock whacked him with the butt of his rifle. The "surviving" members of Company C worked their ways into the trenches and attempted to drive their opponents out. Twenty minutes later, one hundred "Prisoners of War" stood outside the trench, on their knees with hands folded atop their heads.

"What do we do with them, Lieutenant?" Sergeant Gables asked. Lieutenant Hughson was the only surviving officer in the Company, and he was also notorious for being the Company smart ass. He grinned sinisterly.

"How about we force march our vanquished foes back to their lines?" Sergeant Gables returned the look.

"Excellent idea sir. Excellent idea. Alright boys," he said, lighty tapping one of the POWs with his boot. "Dismount them uniforms."

"What the hell?" The soldier asked, looking inquisitively.

"You heard me boy," Gables said. "Get to it!" The "Opposition" removed their uniforms down to their undershorts, and then were made to stand. "Now then, march yourselves back to camp. Get to it!" Then in a long line, the one hundred and fifty prisoners marched semi-nude back to their bases.

[FONT="Palatino Linotype"]Michaels nodded at what she was saying, then continued. "You may remain in Blair Island for as long as you wish. The guest room shall remain yours until such a time as you wish to leave. Feel free to tour about the country and see the land as you wish, watch our military in their monthly training excercises, or whatever you wish. But now, let us discuss things not of politics. You say you discuss things of more feminine nature at home, please do elaborate. I am curious." He folded his hands and listened.

"Thank you, President Michaels. I will stay in the guest room until I leave. As for a tour of the nation; would it be possible for you to give me a tour guide? Yes; I discuss feminine topics such as clothes and love. I have friends who I spend time with and discuss such things with."

"Thank you, President Michaels. I will stay in the guest room until I leave. As for a tour of the nation; would it be possible for you to give me a tour guide? Yes; I discuss feminine topics such as clothes and love. I have friends who I spend time with and discuss such things with."




"Absolutely!" He said gladly. "You shall have Mr. Cecil. He's a very good government agent in Public and International Affairs. He'll be more than happy to show you across our growing nation."




***Company C, Emmitsburg Rifles Battalion Training Center***



The men of Company C marched back slowly to their respective barracks. The days training had been very rigourous. Upon completion of the trench assaults against the Welsborough Light Brigade had resulted in a success in some sectors, but disasterous defeats in others. Granted the battle had been quite one sided, given that only four hundred men within the Emmitsburg Rifles had been pitted against the Welsborough Brigade's one thousand men. All in all though, they had conducted themselves very well against their foe. The commanding officers of the mock "High Command" were very pleased with its results and their readiness.

"Absolutely!" He said gladly. "You shall have Mr. Cecil. He's a very good government agent in Public and International Affairs. He'll be more than happy to show you across our growing nation."

"Thank you, sir. Do you know where I can find Mr. Cecil? I look forward to see the sights and landmarks of Blair Island; I am thankful to be given the opportunity."