NationStates Jolt Archive

The winter night of Vernesia was regularly never calm, as most of the poor knew from personal experience. Gale force winds swept throughout the country, occasionally toppling small structures, such as a Royal Supporter's 4-year-old son's tower of Lego, or ruffling the curtains slightly. However, tonight something was taking place which His Majesty's Government, actually entirely composed of His Majesty, would do all it could to make sure was never found it.

A recent uprising supporting democracy and human rights had taken place across Vernesia, with Molotov Cocktails burning a soldier hundreds if not thousands of times, with hundreds were being buried, as shown on Vernesian Broadcasting Corporation as a propaganda and anti-democracy broadcast. However, what wasn't being laid open to the public tonight would prove far more interesting, especially if a foreign government discovered it.

Such thoughts were rushing through young Private James Williams' head as he loaded the Kalashnikov which would be ending Jack Smith's life, much to the delight of King Peter Stransor. Smith was a senior member of the Vernesian Democratic Front, the VDF, and had lead the VDF capture of several villages in the south of the country, along with the eventual burning of the villages, by Royal Decree.

"Williams, blindfold the bastard," commanded General Anderson Campbell, handing the 22-year-old a silk blindfold, a cigarette and a light. "All men deserve to die with a cigarette in their mouth."

James walked up to Smith, tied by rope to a small apple tree and looking quite unconcerned that he would be shot in the head by an AK-47, dumped in a ditch and burned. Many of his comrades had died the same deaths, and most of them had been brave to that. They were revolutionaries, all in all, men who usually didn't give a damn if they died, as long as their cause, whatever that may be, lived on.

"Peace be upon you," whispered James, blindfolding him and giving him a cigarette.
"I'll be getting more peace than you ever will, son," whispered back Smith, laughing as he took a long puff of the cigarette.

Williams walked back five paces, his camouflaged cap being blown off by the heavy Western winds. The revolutionaries always acted brave and that, as they should, considering they had taken hundreds of lives just last night. The civilians, however, always screamed and begged God for mercy.

Not that God would show them mercy, thought James, loading the rifle. State propaganda had infected even the wisest of the wise, as such thoughts proved.

"May God have mercy on your soul," whispered James, as he aimed down the sights of the Kalashnikov and fired an entire round. Instantly, the tree was splattered in blood, along with the red stuff streaking downwards, onto the green grass.

The death of Jack Smith was the 927th of that night.

----

"Get the message out," ordered the Leader of the Front, William Alexanders. "Now!"

The laptop which James Miller had seized from government officials was quite possibly one of the few computers in Vernesia with internet access, after His Majesty had ordered the internet be banned for 'security purposes'. Google was missed particularly, but His Majesty, who reaped all the benefits of the somehow massive economy, didn't care. The economy should’ve been collapsing, but the massive oil reserves in the nation had attracted international attention, and thus nobody had cared about the extreme poverty in the nation.

Milner had earlier planted a video camera, another stolen item, in a field just outside of the capital city, which had resulted in a small bit of blood being splattered on the camera. The bottom half of the video was darkness, but the top half clearly showed an Army soldier shooting seventeen of Miller's VDF comrades in cold blood, blindfolding all of them before their death and handing one of them who they had identified as Jack Smith, one of their childhood friends, being slaughtered and smoking his last cigarette.

Milner, a computer expert, quickly uploaded the 20-minute video onto a video sharing website, possibly YouTube, which was an unheard of thing in Vernesia, but he luckily was one of the last generation of immigrants into the land and had enjoyed the luxuries of the West. He was 40-years-old and had came here 30 years ago, before King Peter the Bastard had taken power. Now, the nation was a royalist military dictatorship, a shadow of its former self.

Under the title of 'The Secret Killings of Vernesia' he posted the long video on YouTube. He had posted in two parts. He hoped somewhere; someone would listen to their cry for help.

((OOC: Firstly, no invasions or any military action. Condemnation and other diplomatic measures are welcome, along with threats and such. Just don't invade for the love of roleplay! I have plans for Vernesia...)

Lasarkis Manor,
Constantinopolis Secundus

The old man looked across his rich mahogany desk at the much younger woman facing him. "Are you sure about...this?" The contents of the YouTube video were extraordinarily brutal even by the standards of Andras Lasarkis, who had seen many, many brutal things in his decades of service as Secretary to the Imperial Crown of New Chalcedon.

The woman looked back at him steadily. "We are sure, my Lord. OMI has analysed the video to a fare-thee-well, and they agree with the Fifth Bureau. The video is unquestionably real, and represents large-scale oppression in Vernesia. B5 has also analysed the diplomatic situation. As a nation which practices largely autarkic trade practices under its dictator, Vernesia is unlikely to heed protests. Therefore, we believe it's futile to make them."

"Yevlena Parnassia, you over-reach yourself. The Cabinet will decide the proper steps to be taken." The old man was stern, whilst opposite him, the deceptively youthful head of the Fifth Bureau - the Imperial Crown's "civilian" espionage service - was unmoved by it. "Pardon, my Lord, but that is the opinion of the Fifth Bureau. You asked for it - there it is."

"Very well. I would have five written copies for the Cabinet meeting later this afternoon. Also, arrange for disposal of all such copies immediately afterward."

"Yes, my Lord."

Mangana Palace
Constantinopolis Secundus
Later that afternoon.

The foulness of the screenshots within the folders contrasted oddly with the perpetually sunny day outside the secure room.

"Well, what are we to do?" The old Secretary's voice broke a long, disgusted silence. "It is clear that the "King" of Vernesia will destroy his nation, and possibly damage his neighbours badly.

"Is that our concern?" The voice was languid, aristocratic and unmistakably female. The Imperial Home Secretary was, as usual, being intentionally charming, although it had little effect on Zoe Maupoissant's perpetual rivals.

"I'd say it is, Zoe. It's things like this going unchallenged that allow people like Tony Slattery to rule nations and start wars - which definitely affects us." This tart voice belonged to Iohanna Baukhumia, the Imperial Secretary of Skies. "Unfortunately, we cannot afford another military intervention - the current situations have the Armed Forces tied up at present. If we send anything substantial, we would become too inviting a target."

"Well, what are we to do, then?" The plump, balding man looked like anyone's favourite grandfather, an appearance which belied his role as the Legist-in-Chief to the Emperor. "This seems to exhaust our...usual options." His voice hinted at something else, which was immediately confirmed from the head of the table.

"Well, best we look at the unusual ones, then." The young Emperor's voice got the attention of all present. He stood from his chair and started to pace. "Andras, what covert options do we have there?"

"Majesty, we have some covert assets in nearby nations, but nothing immediately available. What did you have in mind?"

"Start setting up a channel. I want to supply the rebels with arms, on two conditions: firstly, after removing the King, they permit his heir to take the throne under a Constitutional basis. Secondly, they permit the King to go into exile, rather than executing him."

"At once, Majesty. Now, about the situation in Rangeria, it seems that certain options have opened up to us, as far as trade treaties are conerned. The details are as follows..."

Unnamed countryside, near the Vernesian border

The Imperial agent was nervous. A man the Embassy had tentatively identified as a rebel operative had agreed to her request for a meeting here, in approximately fifteen minutes. But she knew well that like any other successful dictator, the King was good at setting up CInt (Counter-Intelligence) to frustrate covert action against his regine. She just hoped that this request had slipped beneath his spies' radar, else she would havea very unpleasant night ahead of her.

((OOC: Don't actually kill the King. I have plans for him.))

Vernesia had suffered an outbreak of revolutionaries and disease, the former being based in the suburbs of the massive cities of Vernesia and the latter in the poor, pagan villages of the borders. Of course, there were technically no borders, thanks to Vernesia being a moderately sized island south of South Africa, but many a HIV or AIDS patient fled to the RSA for treatment.

Also on the least of the diseases was Ebola. Ebola, one of the deadliest diseases known to mankind, had taken the lives of hundreds if not thousands of Vernesians, most of them the 80% of people in poverty. However, in Vernesia, a new form of Ebola was on the loose, but the poorly funded medical branch of government was struggling to recruit new doctors, never mind research deadly diseases.

These facts were at the back of the 45-year-old general, Michael Turner, as he ordered Delta Two Five to attack a particular house which was called home by a young family and several monkeys using RPGs. It was suspected by the government that in this village, Komodoa village, a small haven for the ancient pagan peoples of Vernesia, whose current descendents were being slaughtered and tortured by the military, that there was a case of Ebola Zaire Mayinga. The soldiers were under orders from His Majesty. Stransor, along with making his people suffer under his iron fist, was an extremist Christian, and couldn't stand any non-Christians in his nation. Alas, that added to the 10 million death toll of King Peter the Bastard's reign, which was still increasing.

Soon after Delta attacked the small house, a small, starving black boy jumped out of a window, on fire and his skin literally melting off him. He was screaming, his face's skin seemingly evaporating under the judgment of the fire.

"Holy...” gasped one Delta's soldiers. "How did...?"

Turner, mercy gripping his heart, simply walked up to the boy and put him out of his misery, with two M9 bullets in the head. The burning still continued, his tribal necklace catching fire, just like the rest of his body.

"Sir, there was a tribal fire in that house..." replied Private Justin.

"He was an Ebola case," replied Turner, knowing that was not true.

The village was pillaged for the next two hours, the bodies being savagely gathered up and thrown into the centre, where Vernesian oil was poured over them. Turner was given the honour of throwing the cigar which would set the fire alight, destroying 500 bodies, most of them children.

Anybody within a twelve mile radius would see clearer the fires and the sounds of guns, but luckily for His Majesty, there was thought to be nobody within a twelve mile radius. It would be putting pressure on the regime if a revolutionary caught this on tape and put another video on the internet. It would be even worse if a foreign agent had seen these acts...

A platoon of soldiers discover a horrifing site, the village they were supposed to raid had already been raided, but in a gruesome fashion. Bodies were hacked up by some sort of long blade, others had been burned with phosphorus gas. There was a single survivor, he had gone mad, he shouted,"Demons, they come in the night! They killed many with their fire gas, and chopped up the rest, they cut off my toes and fingers and let me live! We are all damned to a firery death."

OOC: Hope you'll accept the minor mod as to the place of the meeting between the Imperial and the rebel agent.

IC:

Rebecca "Becky" Farrah was a freelancer, currently investigating for a major Imperial TV station, and her current assignment was to investigate the outbreaks of ebola in Vernesia. Knowing as any media worker did the legendary paranoia of its regime, she decided to skip the months-long process of legal application for a visa and had, discreetly, hired a band of smugglers to take her to the nation's coast in order that she might gather background information about the country for her employer.

She also had a more clandestine aspect of her mission. Her trip had been arranged and paid for by the Fifth Bureau, the foremost intel agency for the Empire of New Chalcedon. And another part of her mission was to make contact with the rebel movement within Vernesia to offer them assistance. She had been waiting most of the night at a small village when she noticed sounds coming from the next village along, perhaps a mile away.

Quickly making her way in that direction, she got out her camcorder and set it up so that she could start recording on a moment's notice. As she arrived to a bluff above the burning village, she got a first-hand view of the latest atrocity committed by Royal troops. Her camcorder busily recording, she spared a moment to pray that the Royal troops would not notice her - they would never allow a witness to their depredations go away to report on it.

Her prayers were apparently answered. She started to make her way back to the planned meeting place, hoping that the rebel agent had not been and gone - she had some arrangements to make.

Constantinopolis Secundus, the next evening local time

The KRCT news executive was beside himself with joy. His most prized freelancer had gotten through once again, and he now had something much more valuable than a documentary to raise his ratings.

"Yes, that's right. I want the news program to be modified to include a full story about this - its background, the politics of that country, et cetera."

"Yes, Mr. Kamadopoulos."

Thirty minutes later, the broadcast began, with the intent of enlightening the twenty millino inhabitants of the sprawling metropolis of the situation in Vernecia. The Imperial Palace was hardly ignorant of the situation, either.....