NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC-This has been talked about with TWSP OOCly, don't worry.

Questers
Francis took a deep breath as he prepared for what he was about to do. He was the pretender to the throne of what was now 'the World Soviet Party', the rightful heir to a throne that was destroyed in 1912 by the military. He had lived his entire life in Questers, as had his father. He had never set foot in his homeland, where the communists had declared that any attempt by a former royal to enter the nation would be dealt with harshly.

He had always wondered if he had any chance to reclaim his land. Well, he was going to find out. Because he was about to declare his goal of reconquering his lands. He stood up from his place and stepped out onto a podium. In front of him was a rather large crowd of Questarians, who supported him as the King of the Red Empire. He approached the microphone and began to speak. He clearly had an English accent.

"Greetings, people of the world. My name is King Francis IV. I have no doubt that the majority of you have no idea who I am, or why I style myself as a King when I live in Questers. My family was deposed by military personel in 1912 in what is today, and I am sure you actually have heard of this, the World Soviet Party. The land now ruled by bolshevik scum is my birthright! I call upon all those who realise the threat of communism on the world, those who realise that it is only right that I be the ruler of the Red Empire, just as my grandfather was!

"I call on you all to support me! Volunteer to fight under me, donate to me, sanction those bastards that now oppress my people! Help me win my nation back! I will not rest until the communists are crushed! That stupid bastard Aszenmil will be taken from his undeserved spot at the head of my people and left to rot like the pig that he is!

"Hail the Red Empire!"

He stepped away from the podium to a rush of excitement. Obviously because Questarians hated communists. Now he could only hope that he could actually raise an army powerful enough to carry out the actions he promised he would. His company would likely suffice for funding, but manpower for the immediate future seemed pretty pathetic. He began sending out posters and flyers to people throughout the world.

http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk47/Zukariaa99/lolpropaganda1.png?t=1207465446

Will post a better thing later.

President Aszenmil sat in his office, in the Capitol of The World Soviet Party, pondering what to do.

His nations got treats and declarations almost daily, most of these were signed by nut-jobs, or extremist groups, completely opposed to socialism and/or communism in any way or form. He was used to this, an a special department in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs had been created just to research and answer these messages.

Now, this was completely different.

Under the Imperial Law of Succession on 1857, Francis IV was the rightful heir to the Red Throne, the problem resided in that every law promulgated before 1912 had been rendered null and void by both the Red Republic and The World Soviet Party proper. It all depended on how the world saw and recognized these goverments.

Still, he was compelled to write a personal answer:

http://i181.photobucket.com/albums/x204/Sgt-Alex/DiplomaticSeal.png

TO: Francis the IV; Zukariaan Ministry for Foreign Affairs
FROM: Alejandro Aszenmil, President of The World Soviet Party

It has recently come to my atention that you the Questarian citizen known as Francis the IV, grandson of Francis the II, last King of the Red Empire, has recently made a public announcement, regarding his intention, and I quote: "I call on you all to support me! Volunteer to fight under me, donate to me, sanction those bastards that now oppress my people! Help me win my nation back! I will not rest until the communists are crushed!" by this speech, I take it that Mister Francis is not willing to negotiate, and has ignored the repeated offers of a life in The World Soviet Party, should he renounce to all of his former titles, therefore becoming a private citizen.

I'd like to assure the sovereign nation of Zukariaa and Mr. Francis that any military action taken against the Socialist States will be considered an act of war and acted upon in kind. We have no quarrel with the Zukariaan people, and we strongly urge them to drop this fight, in which they have nothing to.

Furthermore, I'd like to remind you gentlement that a goverment is only valid as it's recognized by the people it governs, and that over the years, the Kings and Queens of the Red Empire proved to be, in majority, innefective and tyrannical, thus warranting a revolution (albeit capitalist). To make a long story short, there are no valid bases to even think about handing the rightful goverment of The World Soviet Party back to the hands of a decadent monarch.

I'd like to close my letter stating my sincere condolences for the death of Francis the III, father of Francis the IV, whom I heard very recently passed away at a very old age.

Signed,
http://i181.photobucket.com/albums/x204/Sgt-Alex/AszenmilSignature.png
Alejandro Aszenmil, President of The World Soviet Party.

[OOC: TWSP asked me to RP King Francis.]

Open Letter to Alejandro Aszenmil

Sir,

I read your letter with great interest and thank you for the valuable information contained therein with which I have been able to save My Courts a great deal of nuisance upon My return to the throne following the deposition of your illegal pretender government.

I present the following passages from your letter which, taken together, constitute a written confession to the crimes of Treason and Sedition:

"Alejandro Aszenmil, President of The World Soviet Party"

You sign your name followed by the title of 'President' of the pretender state. In fact, no such state exists, nor does any such title. However it amounts to an immediate prima facie case to prosecute for the crime of treason, on grounds that you have willingly usurped the government of my Realm without my permission, or that of any of my forebearers.

"the Questarian citizen known as Francis the IV... has ignored the repeated offers of a life in The World Soviet Party... [as] a private citizen."

You claim that I am a Questerian citizen. In fact I am a guest of the Questerians, who recognise my right above that of a mere "citizen," as a peer of their own Sovereign. You further claim that I am not a citizen of your country. You are quite right. I would not stoop to the depths of begging for a "life," if that is the correct term for such a condition, as a citizen in your vile Republic. You are my subject, and I am your Sovereign. Neither one of us is a "citizen".

In this passage you assert the notion that this government, of which you have already admitted to being part, has removed and supplanted My Sovereign authority. In doing so you have condemned yourself, the charge is proved, in the presence of Your Sovereign.

However, for the benefit of the Court, which I myself alone constitute, as your lawful King, and to remove any possible doubt as to your guilt, I shall submit a few more choice passages from your eggregious letter.

"I'd like to assure the sovereign nation of Zukariaa and Mr. Francis that any military action taken against the Socialist States will be considered an act of war"

No, Sir! No! War can be undertaken only upon a Sovereign, and I am Sovereign of these lands. I am hardly able to wage war against myself, it is outrageous for you to suggest otherwise.

"I'd like to remind you gentlement that a goverment is only valid as it's recognized by the people it governs"

This ludicrous statement requires no commentary from me to demonstrate its abject folley and underlying criminal intent.

I believe that I have demonstrated more than enough to convict, beyond any reasonable doubt, the aforementioned gentleman, if even he would in all credulity describe himself as such, of the crimes of Treason and Sedition. The only available sentence for either crime can surely be death. It is my only regret that it can be carried out only once for these two despicable crimes.

His Majesty Francis IV of the Red Empire, King

There was no official reply to Francis's letter, all that could be said had already been said, everything that could be done had been done. Now it was time to prepare.

All over The World Soviet Party, civilians were warned about the impending invasion, forums were created to discuss the issue in an orderly and educated manner, always pointing out, of course, the benefits that democracy had brought to the people.

This, however, was not the only concern, as the military did not exactly know when the invasion would be carried out, and therefore, would be forced to start fortifying the coasts, preparing the Air Force, calling up reserves for late-training and checking that all problems were solved.

Onward Chartered Soldiers, on to tyrants' lands,
Pamphlets in your pockets, rifles in your hands.
Take the glorious tidings where trade can be done,
Spread the liberal gospel --- with a Maxim gun.

As dawn rose over the virgin fields in land of Van Hausen’s Bay (http://z15.invisionfree.com/Haven_Region/index.php?showtopic=580&hl=), a cargo ship was approaching from the South. The Mad Hatter was of no particular distinction, a 20-something, slightly faded, slightly rusty merchantman of Questerian construction, bearing at her prow a Praetonian Purple Ensign. Rated for 10,000t of cargo, she carried a disparate load – warm weather clothing, easy-assemble shelters, long shelf-life ration packs, tools, even a flat-packed warehouse to store her wares.

To all the world, she was the property of merely another batch of plucky Praetonian entrepreneurs, always ready and eager to make a fortune out of supply to impoverished Soviets the quality manufactures of the Free World. She carried a few weapons, as was the fashion in these heady, pirate-ridden days – a few light cannon, a few machineguns, a light missile launcher. But certainly there was nothing to occasion any anxiety on the part of the carrier battlegroup stationed off the coast a mile or two to her West.

It was to see these mighty warships that the crew gathered at the railings just after dawn. They certainly cut a dashing figure silhouetted against the morning sky. The fact that they could be seen had strategic importance, too, and the intentions of the crew toward them were most certainly not merely those of admiring observers. But for now, it was onwards to land-fall.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite his sudden elation at the formation of the Red Empire Company, King Francis’s depression has returned and worsened as the realisation dawned that nothing much would happen quickly. Invasion scares had rippled through the Soviet Party back then, but in the intervening years they had died down and been forgotten. It became clear fairly early on that Praetonian capitalists were rich for a reason, and this meant that they were not generally willing to invest vast sums in enormously speculative, quite possibly fatal endeavours to invade, on a for-profit basis, foreign nuclear powers.

Some money had been acquired nonetheless, and with this money had been hired 10,000 men. They were, broadly speaking, the scum of the earth, for the Company was interested in optimal return on investment, and these men were expendable. Some of them were on a pittance of just a two thousand guineas per year, but most were being paid no money at all. Their payment was a share of the loot, or worse, merely the promise of passage to Praetonia after their term of service had ended. By far the majority of them were black Questerians. They had been trained for a similar pittance, and not for very long, and armed with last generation Doomani small arms that flooded the market. This was not important, it was thought, nor were the weapons themselves really that low quality. They were rugged and reliable, and this was important.

These were joined in His Red Majesty’s Service by six ships. There were three transports, Queen of Hearts, March Hare and Dormouse, unarmed and inconspicuous, on which the troops were presently embarked. These had scattered throughout the trade lanes of the South, and now these, too, were approaching Van Hausen’s Bay. The fifth ship was stationed about 1,000km South of the Mad Hatter, and was the only one with any ‘real’ armament. Nonetheless she appeared to be – and indeed was – a merchantman too, simply with missile canisters concealed under tarpaulin. It was for the Mad Hatter’s report that this ship, the Cheshire Cat, now lay in wait.

The final ship had the further distinction of actually having been built a warship. She was a Praetonian mixed gunnery and missile cruiser of the previous generation, a type of ship that had now fallen completely out of favour, but which was perfect for this endeavour. To her fore, she possessed four automatic 6” guns. To her rear, she had a helipad and hangar, on which were carried six medium civilian helicopters, and an anti-air missile battery. This last armament - a swing arm for some long-defunct SAM – was now left derelict with no ammunition, but left in place to preserve the proper distribution of weight. She, too, had deliberately become lost in the shipping lanes near the colony, but the Mock Turtle did not dare stray to visual range of any of her fellow travellers.

King Francis took a sip of whisky to steady his shaking hand. His future depended entirely on the events of the next week.

The arrival of the Praetonian merchant ship was not a surprise to the Soviet Carrier Battlegroup currently stationed off the coast of the new colony, as not only had it been detected by both the ship radars and the naval scout planes searching the zone surrounding Van Hausen's bay (which had, for the moment, the only working port in the entire territory), but also complemented the popular belief that the Praetonians had evolved specifically to smell money from far away.

Still, and while most of the seamen on board the small Soviet squadron would have been more than happy to sink it, the Mad Hatter was left untouched. Only a lone Bergstein Class Light Frigate, T.P.S. Liberty, detached itself from the CBG and sailed towards the Hatter, hailing it via radio.

"You are entering Soviet Territorial Waters, state your identity, cargo and intentions or we shall be forced to turn you back. Over."

One might have called it overkill, but the Liberty kept it's guns and missiles trained at the foreign ship. They had no intention to use them, but if the Hatter turned out to be crewed pirates or other men of low moral standing, then the Soviets would not get caught by surprise.

This whole scene was also being observed by the colonists, who stood on the beach, happy to get a free demonstration of naval tactics, as they too had recognized the Praetonian ensign.

Tell the wretched tyrants, sinful are their hearts,
Turn their politburos into hypermarts.
And if to your teaching they will not succumb,
Give them another lesson with the Maxim gun...

The Captain of the Mad Hatter was little concerned.

"I am your humble servant," he flourished, "Mr Richard Montague, Esquire, loyal subject of His Majesty King George, Captain of this fine ship, the Mad Hatter, which is property of my esteemed employer, the Chesit General Wares Trading Co.

"My cargo is their goods: general wares which are thought in demand by the inhabitants of a virgin colony. My intentions are to proceed under the treaty guaranteeing freedom of trade betwixt my realm and yours, to the shore whereupon I shall oversee the disembarkation of the cargo that is my charge, and its dispersal amongst my employer's customers."

All of which was, of course, perfectly true... as far as any independent and otherwise uninformed observer would be able to establish to their satisfaction. While in reality the import mission would serve its purpose too, their most valuable task would be to engage in the export trade: the export of information.

Aboard the Cheshire Cat, so far away, there were sixty-four missiles of the Sea Halberd (http://wikistates.outwardhosting.com/wiki/Sea_Halberd_missile) type in front line service with the Praetonian Imperial Navy. They were the big ticket item of the whole endeavour, the only weapon the Company possessed that was actually new, alone costing them over 3,300 Crowns. They were also the lynchpin on which the whole enterprise was to depend. For while they were indeed expensive, they were also top tier anti-ship weapons, the only thing that could dependably and somewhat affordably knock out the Soviet battlegroup.

The Sea Halberd relied not on speed to carry it safely to the bowels of the enemy, but on stealth. Designed like a stealth aircraft, and flying below the horizon of surface based radar, a Sea Halberd would be detected by early airborne warning planes that might happen to be flying along her flight axis just a few dozen kilometers away, when the missile was entering terminal phase, with a response time then measured still in seconds. Upon hitting a ship she would doubtless cause heavy damage, most likely crippling to medium combatants, and attack a carrier from above to crater the deck, rendering the lumbering giant useless. The aviation fuel, of which there would generally be a considerable amount remaining, was an integral part of its destructive capability, for wherever the hull was penetrated, extensive fires were bound to start and spread.

Of course, this was all useless if the firing ship did not know where the enemy was, and the Halberd was designed to be launched from beyond even most carriers' ability to scout ahead. The Mad Hatter, therefore, was their scout, and her GPS co-ordinates were sent to Company HQ as part of a standard, automatic status report to satellite internet using commercial encryption. Cheshire Cat had her eyes, and she had only needed the time taken for a man to blink to know all she needed to about where her target lay. When detected, designated missiles would use jamming. Within a few dozen kilometers of the enemy, a small number of missiles would 'pop up' to locate the precise targets of the swarm with radar and, more particularly, passive infrared sensors.

As Captain Richard Montague Esq. was exchanging pleasantries with the Soviet frigate, forty-eight of the missiles were fired. It would be nearly an hour before the missiles would show up on the Soviet radars. Hopefully their defeat would not teach them to treat counter-surveillance more seriously, for King Francis would surely have more encounters with the Soviet Navy to come. For her own part, the Cheshire Cat was far beyond counter-detection range, and as soon as the tarpaulins were pulled back over the missiles she would vanish into the ocean, although not without leaving behind something quite visible to all the world.

Liberty acknowledge the message and checked the ship's number and marking with the international database, so far, everything seemed to be fine, the ship was indeed the Mad Hatter, they had not lied. Thus, they responded:

Your information checks out, please bring your vessel to a halt and prepare to be boarded. This is purely standard procedure and the officers will merely see that the cargo matches the manifesto.

Without waiting for an answer, the Liberty sped up and closed distance with the Praetonian freighter, it's Army complement getting ready to board their RHIBs.

Meanwhile, the Admiralty had been informed of the new arrival, but the reports were shrugged off, even if their wares were good, no sane person would buy something they could get for free, regardless of provenance. If anything, they'd would sell a few luxury items, some clothing maybe, no one really expected "Freedom" to be quite a large business opportunity as of the moment.

"Right-o," Captain Montague replied, and the ship began to slow.

To him it seemed silly to board a container ship to check its cargo, when most was inaccessible while stowed, only a few minutes away from being able to unload it on shore, but not surprising. Communists were, afterall, well known for their inefficiency.

Inefficient or not, the Soviets would board the ship. Even if an inspection was infeasible, they would still get a good chance to look at the crew, ship conditions and check for any contraband material the Praetonians might be carrying.

Thus, the marine detachment (if one could call it so, the Soviets had no formal marine corps, only Army troops with special training) finally reached and boarded the Mad Hatter, they were lead by a captain and kept their guns low and safe.

The officer, a man by the name Schmidt, saluted Montague.

"Greetings, I am Captain Schmidt and I'm here to inspect your cargo. Worry not, it will only take a few minutes."

Montague did not return the salute, as he was not a military man, but took off his hat and offered the foreign officer his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, my good man. I am sure you will find my crew -" there were only nine of them - "most helpful. If you tell them where you wish to start, they will lead the way."

They were all bearing in mind what their Captain had said just a minute before the marines boarded - "Keep your eyes on them and your camera phones ready. If they break anything, we could be on to a tidy little earner in the civil courts."

[Encrypted]
To: HM Francis IV of the Red Empire
From: Mondo Advertising, C. of DC
Re: Reclaiming your throne

Your Highness,
We recommend you consider the Confederacy of Defense Corporations (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=577616) for inexpensive military equipment to help you regain your rightful domain.

Schmidt reciprocated Montague's gesture and shook his hand.

"Why, thank you Captain Montague. If it's not much of a hassle, we would like to begin with the cargo hold."

Meanwhile, the marines had spread out, though not too far away, and kept an eye on everything careful, however, not to touch anything without express orders from their commanding officer.