American Reich States
06-07-2008, 23:24
‘The rise of the American Reich States in the backwaters of Alabama was the result of several important factors. The economic downturn following the pressure on oil prices resulted in massive civil disturbance, with fuel protests and food riots as the economic infrastructure began to suffer from a lack of necessities. The pressure on the country finally culminated with the collapse of federal government following the terrorist nuclear bombing of Washington DC in early April 2008. Emergency laws brought governmental control down to the state level as the institutions of state struggled to hold together and panicking and angry population. It would only take a certain kind of individual to take the centre stage and play on the populist demands of the time to begin bringing about the kind of totalitarian regime that the world witnessed in the years following the rise of the Confederate Reich. Born to a farming family in the backwoods of the state, Jacob ‘Jake’ Trelawne Somersby worked his way up from the drunken beatings of his world-angry father to the middle-class surroundings of Birmingham as a member of the state legislature. Already known for his right-wing, populist politics and a flair for the dramatic, Jacob Somersby stepped into the spotlight with designs on the state, the country and the world…’
Burgess, Richard - ‘The South Shall Rise Again: A History of the Confederate American Reich.’ (2120).
[X][X][X]
Sergeant Bakewell shifted his feet nervously as he stood inside the doorway to the Governor’s Office. He tentatively adjusted the Confederate Jack armband that emblazoned his forearm and flexed his grip on the AR-15 Assault Rifle, glancing around the corridor. A member of the Confederate Reactionary Corps, or ‘CRC’ as it was popularly known, Bakewell was part of the militia that currently rioted outside the office, firing weapons into the air and riding the streets of Montgomery in commandeered cars, flags of the Confederacy waving energetically in the air. Behind the door of the office he protected, he knew that State Senator Somersby was dealing with the more serious elements of the Confederate takeover. Bakewell was not a well-educated man, but even he could sense the electricity in the air. History was in the making.
Inside the plush office, wood-panelled and fitted with luxury carpeting and expensive furniture, people from various press groups across the United States and outside its borders quietly snapped photographs and recorded the image of history in the making. State Senator Somersby smiled, his hands clasped behind his back as he began to speak to the assembled group.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began, casting his brown eyes across every member of the press corps. At just under six feet in height, with light blonde hair and clean-shaven, Somersby was a domineering figure. Dressed in a butternut yellow suit with a small pin of the Confederate battle flag on his lapel, his clasped hands were enclosed in light grey gloves that tapped one finger against another in a routine tic. He spoke with a calm tone that hid his notoriously powerful orator style well-known in the State Senate. Next to him stood a tall man in olive drab, wearing the rank of a senior military officer.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Jake repeated himself as the buzz of minor conversation from the press corps died down. He glanced across at the military man to his side and smiled in a calm manner. “Following extensive negotiation in these early hours of the Confederate liberation, I have come to an agreement with Lieutenant-General Arthur Berkeley and the rest of the Alabama National Guard senior command to end the conflict between National Guard forces and CRC freedom fighters.”
Lieutenant-General Berkeley smiled thinly. The statement was almost an insult in itself; the ‘conflict’ following the Confederate militia’s initial movements was practically non-existent. The Alabama National Guard, were it not itself paralysed by high percentages of personnel support for Somersby and his cause, was vastly out-numbered by the well-armed CRC. Loyalist pleas for support from United States military assets across the state border were met with little response; the army was far too busy trying to put down widespread rioting elsewhere following the Federal government’s collapse, and elements the Air Force and Navy appeared to have simply bunkered down within their bases and stopped responding to Pentagon transmissions as various State Governors argued and plied to be the individual that saved the situation. Outside of Alabama, nobody knew who was in charge. Inside Alabama, it was abundantly clear.
Somersby smiled again as he continued speaking. “Fifteen minutes ago,” he continued, his twitching finger the only movement in his otherwise stoic posture, “I agreed with Lieutenant-General Berkeley to accept the stand-down of all military assets in the Alabama National Guard. General Berkeley and I have reached the general consensus that, given we are less than twenty-four hours from the election for State Governor following the tragic death of Governor Tompkinson, the activities of the CRC are merely the patriotic expression of free political views in this dire time for our country.” Somersby turned to the military officer with a gentle smile. “Wouldn’t you agree, sir?”
Berkeley nodded, lips thinly pursed. Camera bulbs flashed. “I have ordered all National Guard units to stand-down and return to their barracks,” the officer said in as calm a voice as he could muster. “The initial…mistaken sentiments that the CRC was usurping democratic power was merely over-eagerness on the part of the National Guard Command given the current problems facing the United States. I…apologise.” Berkeley almost choked on the word.
Somersby smiled, nodding in encouragement. Turning to the officer, he raised his hand to shake. Berkeley looked silently at the hand for a moment, then up at the calm face. The smile had gone, and there was an air of restrained menace on the face of the State Senator. Berkeley could see something in his eyes, something he had seen in the faces of other men in other countries. Something dangerous. He took the proffered hand and shook it tightly. The cameras flashed as they took in the scene.
The following day’s election was naturally a foregone conclusion. CRC members lined the streets on Election Day, and gangs roamed the polling booths making sure that people voted the correct way. Not that this affected most people, as the majority seemed to vote willingly for State Senator Jacob Somersby of 82 Tremont Drive, Birmingham. Governor Somersby was sworn in within hours of the results being declared.
A day later, amid raucous celebrations by large sections of the population, Alabama announced its secession from the Union.
Burgess, Richard - ‘The South Shall Rise Again: A History of the Confederate American Reich.’ (2120).
[X][X][X]
Sergeant Bakewell shifted his feet nervously as he stood inside the doorway to the Governor’s Office. He tentatively adjusted the Confederate Jack armband that emblazoned his forearm and flexed his grip on the AR-15 Assault Rifle, glancing around the corridor. A member of the Confederate Reactionary Corps, or ‘CRC’ as it was popularly known, Bakewell was part of the militia that currently rioted outside the office, firing weapons into the air and riding the streets of Montgomery in commandeered cars, flags of the Confederacy waving energetically in the air. Behind the door of the office he protected, he knew that State Senator Somersby was dealing with the more serious elements of the Confederate takeover. Bakewell was not a well-educated man, but even he could sense the electricity in the air. History was in the making.
Inside the plush office, wood-panelled and fitted with luxury carpeting and expensive furniture, people from various press groups across the United States and outside its borders quietly snapped photographs and recorded the image of history in the making. State Senator Somersby smiled, his hands clasped behind his back as he began to speak to the assembled group.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began, casting his brown eyes across every member of the press corps. At just under six feet in height, with light blonde hair and clean-shaven, Somersby was a domineering figure. Dressed in a butternut yellow suit with a small pin of the Confederate battle flag on his lapel, his clasped hands were enclosed in light grey gloves that tapped one finger against another in a routine tic. He spoke with a calm tone that hid his notoriously powerful orator style well-known in the State Senate. Next to him stood a tall man in olive drab, wearing the rank of a senior military officer.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Jake repeated himself as the buzz of minor conversation from the press corps died down. He glanced across at the military man to his side and smiled in a calm manner. “Following extensive negotiation in these early hours of the Confederate liberation, I have come to an agreement with Lieutenant-General Arthur Berkeley and the rest of the Alabama National Guard senior command to end the conflict between National Guard forces and CRC freedom fighters.”
Lieutenant-General Berkeley smiled thinly. The statement was almost an insult in itself; the ‘conflict’ following the Confederate militia’s initial movements was practically non-existent. The Alabama National Guard, were it not itself paralysed by high percentages of personnel support for Somersby and his cause, was vastly out-numbered by the well-armed CRC. Loyalist pleas for support from United States military assets across the state border were met with little response; the army was far too busy trying to put down widespread rioting elsewhere following the Federal government’s collapse, and elements the Air Force and Navy appeared to have simply bunkered down within their bases and stopped responding to Pentagon transmissions as various State Governors argued and plied to be the individual that saved the situation. Outside of Alabama, nobody knew who was in charge. Inside Alabama, it was abundantly clear.
Somersby smiled again as he continued speaking. “Fifteen minutes ago,” he continued, his twitching finger the only movement in his otherwise stoic posture, “I agreed with Lieutenant-General Berkeley to accept the stand-down of all military assets in the Alabama National Guard. General Berkeley and I have reached the general consensus that, given we are less than twenty-four hours from the election for State Governor following the tragic death of Governor Tompkinson, the activities of the CRC are merely the patriotic expression of free political views in this dire time for our country.” Somersby turned to the military officer with a gentle smile. “Wouldn’t you agree, sir?”
Berkeley nodded, lips thinly pursed. Camera bulbs flashed. “I have ordered all National Guard units to stand-down and return to their barracks,” the officer said in as calm a voice as he could muster. “The initial…mistaken sentiments that the CRC was usurping democratic power was merely over-eagerness on the part of the National Guard Command given the current problems facing the United States. I…apologise.” Berkeley almost choked on the word.
Somersby smiled, nodding in encouragement. Turning to the officer, he raised his hand to shake. Berkeley looked silently at the hand for a moment, then up at the calm face. The smile had gone, and there was an air of restrained menace on the face of the State Senator. Berkeley could see something in his eyes, something he had seen in the faces of other men in other countries. Something dangerous. He took the proffered hand and shook it tightly. The cameras flashed as they took in the scene.
The following day’s election was naturally a foregone conclusion. CRC members lined the streets on Election Day, and gangs roamed the polling booths making sure that people voted the correct way. Not that this affected most people, as the majority seemed to vote willingly for State Senator Jacob Somersby of 82 Tremont Drive, Birmingham. Governor Somersby was sworn in within hours of the results being declared.
A day later, amid raucous celebrations by large sections of the population, Alabama announced its secession from the Union.