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Post by VoxApocrypha on May 17, 2022 4:32:56 GMT -5
Auran, 1930, spring
First day of the world culinary fair
In the many long years of his service, Lawrel had never in truth been particularly partial to politics nor did he really feel he had an affinity for it - his friends and close colleagues would all however disagree.
Lawrel had become the vice president of Roskana as soon as Amelia had been first elected, and she had kept her post for the past three decades after the Overthrow of the Tsar in the year 1900. Amelia had been the first general to lead a revolt against the Tsar directly, and he had followed with his own unit as the second.
He hadn't exactly wanted to be apart of the conflict but when things had kicked off, he had to pick a side, and he would rather go with a friend than stay loyal to a regime that in all likelihood, was gearing up to purge him. Once the war kicked off proper and Amelia began her famous, or to the few Tsarists left, infamous march to Roma, he had already been swept up like so many others in her sheer inertia, momentum and powerful commanding aura - and the near religious fervor that she had stirred up - that he could not break away. He didn't want to, and even now he would never have given the chance. What he and her had built was a beauty better than that of even the greatest peak of ancient Roskana, during the rule of the Verak dynasty, after it, and before the Tsarist Republics and Tsardoms that had plagued the last 200 years.
Of course he did not like his job though. In fact it was rarely one he loved.
He was not a big fan of public speaking though he was adept at the role, had to be. He was preparing now to go to the world culinary fair, of which in truth he was excited for - but that was for the food. Not the speeches he'd have to give, the hands he'd have to shake, and the sheer amount of talking he'd be doing the entire day to people he could in truth, not care any less about. Once all the boring, annoying and yet incredibly important formalities were out of the way and he would be free'd from his political obligations, he was going to go to the nearest Marrlanian seafood stand and get himself crab legs with that special butter sauce they made for them.
As he would adjust his tie, the man would brush his hair back a bit with his hands. He was built fairly averagely for a smaller man, the Karrashi having notably more feminine features than some, though he had visible scars and patches of fur that simply would never grow back, folicules burned away and covered by scar tissue after a year of war and marching, fighting through fires and burning clouds of superheated smoke. He wondered meanwhile what the President would be doing in that moment, sadly missing out on an event she oh so loved.
He would have to save Amelia a plate.. or a few. Of course she'd probably fill up on food at the diplomatic meeting she was attending that night, preparing to hammer out an arrangement with the Pionare and Maiz's government.
He'd check his suit one more time, and then pull on his cape, before then tucking in a couple of the edges and letting the blue trimmed, grey cape hang down towards the back of his knees. He looked as good as he was going to get, he thought, and so he turned and made his way to the door.
He'd be immediately followed by two body guards from the Roskanan Secret Services, wearing black dress uniforms and holding two M54 Cricercons, semi-automatic rifles fed by magazines. He'd be escorted to his vehicle, and would soon set off from the Acropolis in 'Old Town', where the government was housed, and soon be on his way to the biggest event in the North. The World Culinary Fair.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Jun 22, 2022 6:08:08 GMT -5
North Western Roskana, Incorporated Empire of Ald - Two hours from the Grinvel Border
Spring, 1930, 29th of Foa - Anniversary of the Grinvel Border Conflict
Federal Army Base "Fe Meridian" (Iron Meridian)
Office of Kalashan "Tylus" Adashenko, Colonel
11:02 PM.
The phone was rested down again onto the clicking mechanism that ended the call, a tone sounding briefly from Adashenko's end of the line before the phone would go silent, the man resting his elbows on his desk. He run his fingers through the fur of his muzzle, as the ringing in his ears would be overtaken by another ambient sound inside of his soundproofed office. The ticking of the clock was the only noise aside from rustling fabric as his hands fell to the desk, and he would lay his muzzle down on the mound of paper in front of him, the tired and aged Festria staring off at the door before his eyes drifted slowly to the clock, the ticking mixing with his tinnitus as the ringing in his ears began to return in force once more, though not as strong as it would were it all silent.
The call he'd taken had been another supply issue, though not for something critical at least, though he felt like it would be critical by the time the fuckers running the show from Armed Forces High Command in Runan got their act together and sent more supplies to him and his men at the border. Aldenite national guard troops didn't quite have the same issue, but that was because a lot of their equipment was older, and despite how well maintained it was, they were usually supplied from within their own territories. His own forces weren't considered to be important enough to warrant a constant stream of supplies when their base wasn't even really that critical in the yees of command.
The most heavily reinforced bases, and ones receiving the majority of supplies, were mostly the coastal ones. The funding was going into two places now, and the army was third in line. The marines and the navy, were getting all the cash, and the Air Force a fair portion of. The army was more considered a territorial defense force and a sort of supplemental unit to the Marines. Heavy firepower and sustained ground warfare didn't require cutting edge equipment and the best uniforms, webbing, so on.
He knew that his men could make do with less, he'd spent time in the trenches with them against the very same enemy he was afraid of now.
He and his brother both. His brother had been in the navy, and came back to land as a Marine after leaving his ship once it had returned to port.
Apollo and him both had gone through hell. And both knew how hard it was to work in a wartime shortage.
He was lucky, in that respect. This was peacetime.. or it felt like it, anyway.
Grinvel and Roskana were longtime rivals and the two powers had never gotten along - a lot of the recent animosity built off the effects that his own unit, the 34th Republican Guard Rifles Regiment, had had on the battlefield. And the things they had done to Grinvelians that he would never quite be able to forget. They were something he saw everynight in his dreams and that he was sure that even Apollo was scared by. Both of them had seen and done things on the battlefield during the border war in 1904.
He stopped for a moment, and looked at the calender.
"29th of Foa."
"Anniversary of a Roskanan Victory in the Grinvel Border Clashes."
He'd been in that final battle. 29th of Foa.
The Battle on the Hill. His heart and soul iced up at the memory of the brutal three day battle.
How they'd won he still wasn't sure, but he didn't really need to know. Didn't care to really too.
Apollo and him had come out of that alive. Not long after he had lost track of the boy.
He didn't know where Apollo had disappeared to now. Wasn't sure where he could have gone, but he was out there.
The boy had gotten around a lot in the past, even more independent than he was. So independent that his parents had striped him of his name, like they had threatened to do to him too before.. well.
The grinvelians had taken care of that problem for him, and he was in some sick and twisted way relieved that he still held the clan name.. and at the same time deeply saddened that people who had only seen him as a chess piece in corporate and house alliances and politics were now dead.
He had a lot of siblings, living ones around his age, but most of them were corporate management or house nobels in Ald. The few that weren't had similarly been ostracized from the family like he had.
He and Apollo were unique, having chosen military paths. While Kalashan, or just Kala, had always been an army boy Apollo had gotten around and far. First the army, then the navy, and then the marines. He wondered what the natural sailor was up to now for only a moment longer, before he would feel his attention drawn back to the calendar.
He reread the date, and after a moment, he would stand up and make his way to the side-door, leading into the adjacent, tiny bedroom he used for stay-overs in the facility. He went into it, and planted himself down onto the bed, electric heater proving to be quite helpful as the snow fell outside. It may have been spring but to him it just felt like a second winter. Everyone felt that way. In Ald it was a common saying that 'Spring is just a extension of winter, and spring is summer.'
Man it felt that way. He looked at the small window, and then closed the blinds over it, before he put himself down into the sheets and relaxed, staring off into space. He hadn't changed from his uniform yet. He figured he should.. but with only seven hours of sleep at best to look forward too he knew it wasn't worth it. He'd probably only get four of what he needed anyway and have to wear an overcoat running around the base to deal with his subordinates, and his superiors.
It was truly a unique kind of hell to be a officer.
He closed his eyes, and soon he was drifting off into sleep, a fog enveloping him as he fell.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Jul 21, 2022 5:05:27 GMT -5
A cold wind blows over the field of snow, a powdery ice slowly falls from the heavens, blanketing the world beneath a slow-rolling haze. The cold air bites at the Festria's eyes, the translucent member over their eye being covered by his eyelids as he blinks. Adashenko holds his shoulders as the wind picks up in intensity, and he steps forwards through the blizzarding storm, snow crusting up on his fur, his face, in his hair. His body temperature is dropping, falling rapidly as a cold he has never felt before, more intense than anything he has ever experienced, would roll over him.
He shivers, trying to keep moving forwards in the hopes that he'll be able to find shelter, some kind of shelter.
And then as he would start to ascend a slope, he took his hands from his arms and clawed his digits firm into the soil and snow, clawing his way up to the top of a steep incline, until finally, he would find himself behind a figure.
They wore a robe, arms exposed.. all four of them. The air around it looked warm, as though radiating steam as it evaporated the snow. He reached for it, and pulled himself up, trying to get close to the figure.. the snow would let up, no longer such a dense fog.
And he'd stop, he stared off into the distance, at a familiar battlefield now barren, marked by craters and empty bunkers.. and a distant line of hills.
He looked at it, and then at the figure as the air began to grow cold again. He watched them turn, the androgynous form of a deity greeting him as their glowing white eyes, gave way to a star-shaped iris.
"..A Storm Is Coming."
Adashenko jolted upright in his bed, staring forwards as the wind blew over the base, whistling through a crack in the window next to his bed. He would sit there for a fair few moments, unable to shake the feeling he had.
One he hadn't quite felt so strongly since he had fought Grinvel.
Dread.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Jul 21, 2022 5:35:37 GMT -5
North-Eastern Roskana, Commonwealth of Auran - City of Roma
1930, Fall, 28th of Vaylien
1:09 PM
Dejanus stepped out of the New Republic Party headquarters with a similar sense of dissatisfaction to that he had gotten upon learning he was the new Presidential Administrator of Arema.
All the responsibility of a president with less power than his sister had taken when she'd seized power in the Overthrow. He'd been the reason that Arema was almost entirely Republican now, and not Tsarist still. He felt it was a unsatisfactory settlement then, and after the meeting today, it was almsotbitterly reminescent.
At every turn Amelia had agents ensuring that he didn't push the Republic in too radical a direction other than the way she sought it to go.
For as much as he loved her, she was his heart and soul as much as his children and wife, Amelia had proven to be the reason he hadn't been able to achieve any of his goals over the past thirty years. It'd left him bitter and resentful.. especially because she had put a smuck in charge of the office of the vice president.
In effect he had two overlords aside from the Diamid itself.
Which pissed him off. He was the party head of the organization responsible for the birth of the Republic as it was now, and he had popular support in Auran and Eflus.
He was making a bid for president again, which was every year, just a little more difficult.
He hoped for a windfall.
Though as he would sit in the back of a taxi car, holding his briefcase in his lap, he would wonder that, if it were to happen - what shape such a windfall would take.
He didn't in truth, know. Or need to, really.
28th of Vaylien, City of Auran, Independent District of the City of Auran
11:09 PM
Amelia would stop the cars engine by pulling the rod and quelching the fire within the block, smothering the flame in the staol burning engine as she had it rest in the driveway to her home. Her children were still off, both adults though they lived with her - something not uncommon among Karrashi families as they typically tended to group together for protection and as well, to pool money and savings. It was a trait typical of Karrashi families, hers being no different. She took the key from the safety lock, and stashed it in her pocket. She checked her sidearm, and looked at it, before then making her way along the concrete walk to her padeo.
She opened the door after unlocking it, and stepped inside. She dropped the briefcase she'd taken with her from work, and then turn around to relock the door. Her kids had keys, so she wasn't worried.
Then she heard it, a rustling of fabric too far away to be her own, and immediately snapped in that direction, eyes narrowing. It was reflex, something like this had happened before with curtains.. but this time it was actually justified.
She would have only a second to move her head, before her hearing was gone, and a bullet tore off part of her ear. Another landed next to her, and then after a second, one tore through her stomach, sending a spread of red back against the wall behind her. Amelia screamed, grabbing her stomach with a hand as the other rached for her sidearm. The pain was almost unbearable, but adrenaline had started to race through her veins and her old soldiers instinct forced her to act. She fired towards where she had last seen the shots land, catching the arm of her assailant as they moved.
They'd yelp, and Amelia would get up onto her feet again, holding her gut with one hand as the other would hold her sidearm, the Karrashi kicking out at the coathangar to her side and sending it hurling into the living room around the wall that separated the oven and kitchen area in general from the living room and doors leading to the bedroom and hall. She would watch as a bullet slammed through the coat hangar, ripping a expensive winter coat open. She would fire in the direction of the muzzle flash, and then again, tearing through the couch and hearing a scream from the other side.
She fired again, no more screams following as crimson mist filled the air with each shot, until she had emptied her magazine.
After a few seconds, she could hear sirens. The guard house was reacting to the firefight.
She made her way to the couch, and pulled it to the side after dropping her gun, looking behind to see a expanding pool of crimson, and a pile of mush where a skull had been, as well as other holes - exit wounds. She'd shot her assasilant through her back. A Festria woman, now mostly without a cranial dome.
She would look at the gun, and then at the attire, and deduce quickly what she was really looking at.
As the door to her home was kicked open, Amelia would turn, and after a moment, wince and collapse back against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position as she watched soldies pour through the door, and agents from the secret service.
And as she watched them race towards her, eye lids closing, she wondered to herself, "What idiot missed a coat from the 1890s?", before she passed out from pain and bloodloss, the adrenaline wearing away.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Sept 12, 2022 19:44:07 GMT -5
Roskana, City of Auran - Office of the President
Winter, 1930, 1st of Sablien
Amelia mulled over the proposal, wearing a tight bandage wrap around her mid-section with a more traditional cropped shirt that hung just low enough to cover her breasts. The bandages covered her stitches, which had split open more than once in her recovery, though they were now remaining mostly closed. Some of the edges were still weak, so she had been bandaged up again in the meantime, and bits of a interior fungal growth common among Festria were found to be spilling out at times, though it wasn't life threatening.
She hadn't slept very well since the incident, old trauma spilling back into her mind and making her more paranoid than she should have been. But if it could happen once it could again, and to more than just her, it could be her family.
The Secret Service had begun to organize a number of counter-assault teams and organized regular watches around her home and that of her family, extended and close. It was comfort but it still left a strange and unpleasantly fearful feeling lingering deep in the recesses of her mind.
She dropped her pen as her eyes drifted back to the window as she got lost again in thought, the sound making her blink, the fox startled. Her hair had changed color since the incident itself, and she had updated her hair style, changing from a ponytail to two buns and braids. She had seen it among photos of the Kiralian women that she thought were so cute, so she had wanted to try it. The color of her hair was new though, a deep pinkish red color that bordered almost on purple. Her fur as well was thinner now thanks to the summer heat. She looked noticeably different though recognizably like the Amelia people knew, so she was not concerned with appearances.
She'd look back again at the document after staring at the city below the foot of the cliff the office building rested on. Built out of the remains of the Imperial palace back after the war with Grinvel and the Overthrow, it overlooked all of Auran from what had been a royal balcony. She was quite fond of the view though she had gotten distracted by it so much that she had curtains installed for that reason.
She reread the proposal again.
"Mandeval Plan"
Following recent advances by Galra diplomatically and economically as well as the conclusion by various think-tanks including the famous "Southern Cross Development Corps" and as well, a need for economic and military expansion, the decision should be made to consider the expansion of Roskana's military and political reach through the use of the means of diplomatic engagement, the establishment of naval bases in foreign states, and the formation of a Coalition with Marrlan and potentially as well the nation of Maiz.
In the north there are several nations that while not on friendly terms are as well not enemies of Roskana, and had prior friendly relations with the Tsardom. There may be space for diplomatic re-engagement with these nations. If necessary we could as well consider the forcible seizure of all strategic naval ports established by the Tsardom before the Overthrow in these areas, but such would be a considerable escalation to hostilities and should only be considered if diplomatic options are exhausted, and not stop at the use of force to seize these naval bases, but would require the overthrow of local regimes.
Primarily we should first focus on establishing a formal military alliance with Marrlan, and then with Maiz as well, preferably under a tri-party framework. The alliance would neccessitate a obligated defense of its memberstates, though likewise the alliance would have to be voluntarily offensive, and as well require that all parties be able and willing to engage in exercises and as well a force rearrangement. We should as well consider attempting to establish closer ties with other states, perhaps Amali - though the SCDC has said that they do not believe Amali is a particularly reliable ally and would not engage in any alliance framework that doesn't directly and largely lopsidedly benefit it.
Nevarra maintains a small slice of territory in the small sea to the south of which Marrlan borders almost entirely, which we could perhaps lease to build a supply station to support our navy and Marrlans.
As well, we could expand our presence overseas in Arema as well, though this would likely coincide with the "Makara Development Initiative". We should consider as well normalizing relations with nations such as Kumosenkan, Diria, Lusatia, Ashinara, and perhaps even attempt to reintegrate the Tsardom - of which is pocket of Roskanan civilization that largely only exists because we let it.
We as well could aim to recontact the Kithium League through Mil'Nor, and as well engage in trade with Mil'Nor.
We could too, attempt to draw the UKUG into this sphere as a sort of co-partner, as we work closely with them already as is.
The rest was just simple stuff that fell under the general idea of the document.
She would after a few more minutes of thought, sign her approval on the line, and start to draft up a plan to get the documents vision made into reality.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Sept 14, 2022 13:10:26 GMT -5
North-West Roskana, the Incorporated Empire of Ald - Two Hours from the Grinvel Border, City of Bordel
Summer, 1931, 3rd of Sablien
In the halls of a state office belonging to the Roskanan armed forces, would be two men and a woman, staring at plans. All of them would be Festria, each one an engineer.
These engineers, six years prior, had been responsible for the development of Roskana's first landships, of which the first was simply called 'The Assault Gun Carrier', and then later the recently produced, somewhat upgraded model that came next, was simply the Roskanan Model Tank - 29, produced in a handful last year with only enough for a platoon.
"Well all I am saying is that we should send the guns to a proving ground, and then if it performs I'm sure the army is going to purchase them in some meaningful numbers." The woman said.
Leaning back in a chair, the smaller of the two men, also clearly older due to the darker and more crimson red tone to his fur, would shrug. "We have to actually get approval for a test. Then the army would have to pick qualified test crews. The guns perform okay, but because the army doesn't really have any established metric for operating they don't think so."
The other male just hums an acknowledgement, before getting up slowly, his far lighter complexion hinting to his young age.
"I will be back. I'm going to do something really quick." He'd say, disappearing into the hall through the door. The woman and older man stare at the schematics, quietly debating on what to do while the younger male made his way down towards the office of one of his friends, dodging an officer for the marines who had been just outside the door. Of course, as he went, he felt a hand grab him by his tie and spin him around - facing again the dark green uniform of a Marine Lieutenant.
"I recognize your face boy. Are you one of the engineers for RHI?" A human man with red hair and a almost snow white complexion would ask him. With a nod, the Festria stared down at them.
"I've been listening in on you. You need to get the gun to a proving ground? I can help you. I represent a group of army and marine interests." He'd say. "What the interest is, not your concern." Still held by his tie, the Festria is pulled into a room with the marine, of whom a couple more marines, and a few army officers, can be found standing together in the same space.. oddly not at each others throats. In fact, each one was rather calm, and the multi-racial make up of the group was still dominated by a noticeable commonality - being the Cult of Mars patch on their shoulders.
"We're going to offer you and your team later, an opportunity to work on other vehicles on behalf of the corps. We're going to first and foremost however get you the opportunity you need to get that tank of yours tested, because if that gets through, the army gets a new armored vehicle, and then the marines get a tankette design meant to meet our needs, unlike the others already submitted."
"Uhh.. how would you-" He would have a hand clamped over his mouth. "I do not need your questions, all I want is a 'I am in' or a 'I am out' out of your mouth, got it?"
With a nod, the Festria had his mouth free'd.
"..I'm in then. What about the others?"
"We'll visit them in a moment, and you'll be coming with. Come on." He'd say, as the room full of men stood up, and turned him around, pushing him out the door and then following him into the other office.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Sept 17, 2022 8:02:52 GMT -5
'Scccreeeeeeeeeeee'
BOOM!
Adashenko was pushed against the wall of the trench as dirt fell from above, covering his muzzle and head with dirt and dust, his hands shaking as he held his rifle in one, and the hip of another of his comrades in another. His fur was matted in blood, his eyes barely able to open and close from the congealed red liquid that covered his fur and face, dirt and dust matting further on his fuzz as snow and dirt rained on the trenches - kicked up by a storm of 115mm shells launched against their positions by grinvelian artillery. He couldn't hear the shouted orders too well, his mind elsewhere yet anyway as he pulled his wounded comrade along with him - spent brass falling from above as men fired their rifles over the lip of the trench.
"Come on, come on!" He said, though he didn't even know if they could hear him - he couldn't quite hear himself clearly now. An eardrum blown out had covered part of his head in blood and matted fur from his ear down to his chest with his own essence of life, the Festria's feet carrying him across the uneven, muddy dirt and over rotting wooden logs, many split and crushed into the wet earth. As they passed by the legs of a man, they'd suddenly give out as a stream of blood and bits of skull fell from above, the corpse falling over Adashenko's body. He'd hold his wounded friend to him and let the corpse fall from above, the top of the human man's head missing.
He ignored it, not stopping for a moment more to process the things that he was seeing. More and more explosions rocked the trenches as mortar shells and artillery laid into the earthworks and the surrounding space, the no man's land that'd been created during the two months of brutal and bloody violence awash with dust, smoke and steam from vaporized water and displaced soil. He carried them under him, feeling the other man's weight grow as their legs gave out in the midst of the trench. Trying to steady him, the other person grabbed the wall.
"David! Don't stop david, we're gonna get you to the medics!"
He could feel the other person try to stand fully again and keep on, but again another artillery shell fell from the sky - landing only meters away. The overpressure of the blast sent them both flying back, and piercing pain shot through Adashenko's legs and shoulders, shrapnel embedding itself in non-vital fatty tissues and muscle. He'd let out a pained groan, laying on the ground stunned, vision blurred as more dirt fell from above. He moved his arm to cover his eyes and rolled onto his side, looking for david, the human man laying some few feet away from him in a heap.
He'd grab at his rifle, but he left it ultimatley as he pulled himself close to the lying heap of the other, grabbing them and rolling them over.
But when he put his hand on their neck and couldn't feel a pulse he knew they were gone. Turning them over would only cement this, and he stared down at the corpse, more blood spilling from wounds in his chest and neck, and a puncture straight through the skull. He could see the end of a piece of jagged metal shrapnel sticking out of their head, and he couldn't help but stare for but another moment, before he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He looked down at his hands as he pulled them away, feeling his body sway. Their blood.. his.. mixing as it ran down his fingers and more fell down his arms, orange fur discolored by the ruby fluids.
He felt his cheeks growing wet as a stream of tears fell from his eyes, whole body feeling as though he were spinning, his mind racing and yet not moving at all, no thoughts able to escape the vortex of emotion that had formed when he saw the corpse of what had been his best officer, and his only real friend in a life of solitude. As he turned he could feel his own weakness catching up to him, his limbs heavy like lead, his vision growing blurry again - not from tears, but as though he were seeing things frame by frame like staring at the film of a camera..
Soldiers racing towards him, men wearing the Cult-Cross..
Medics..
A moment later he couldn't stay upright. He fell backwards, staring up at the grey sky as tracers raced overhead, blue Roskanan bolts of lead trapped in a fullerite shell, ignited by the powder.. and orange from that of the grinvelians. He stared as things grew so much more blurry, until finally, as the faces of the medics obscured the sky, he had passed back out.. still able to feel the wetness on his cheeks.
..Adashenko's eyes opened a moment later, able to feel the cold sensation of wet fur on his face, and he slowly lifted his head from his pillow.
Blood from his nostrils and tears from his eyes. He'd developed a allergic reaction in his sleep again and would have to get his nose cleaned out with a q-tip.. for that moment though he sat there, taking deep breaths through his nose as he stared off in the distance again, able to hear sounds from the training range. Night-Time rifle instructions..
He'd rest his head in his hands, before getting up to clean up. He'd not be able to sleep again.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Sept 25, 2022 5:41:14 GMT -5
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Oct 11, 2022 6:19:12 GMT -5
1931, Winter.
City of Auran, Capital Building
The Roskanan Diamid came together again for another meeting.
In recent months the expense of maintaining Arema had become a point of note among many of the financially minded of the legislative body and as well, this concern had passed through the military, the judiciary, and the executive arms.
It became apparent that its age as a holding, and its development, as well as the expenses involved in maintaining it were significant, for relatively light returns by comparison despite the population density of the region and how much potential it actually had to become a Areman hub of trade and symbol of regional prosperity.
The discussion took almost three days, reaching to the 3rd of Sablien before a decision was made and its details roughly hammered out.
The Diamid would begin working to establish a state in Arema proper rather than the Colonial Administration it otherwise was, as well separating it from the general area of Eflus to become its own state with its own government, or at the least, to make it into a Federal Dependency in much the same way the Eridian territories were.
The first part of the act, would be to establish the baseline infrastructure necessary for the growth of Arema.
Paved roads, and railway infrastructure for moving large amounts of freight. These would be made a priority. As well, alongside this, the growth of Areman trade ports would be needed to facilitate the movement of large quantities of goods, and the materials necessary for this. Contracts in the coming days for companies to establish larger ports or to expand on terminals in Areman cities would be given out via a bidding contest, held on Sablien 10th with a Week's notice on the mainland given for companies to enter the bidding. As well, some car companies would be contracted to build factories and dealerships in cities for cheap, reliable cars.
As well, they'd have to expand some of the local military infrastructure to maintain the security state in that area, and to modernize large portions of it, the area having been neglected for a fair while.
With this, they as well would begin trying to open new mines for Raw Ores, Minerals and Materials so that they could bring those back to the nation itself for domestic use, and as well, with all of this - they would have to heavily focus on the construction of factories to make more construction equipment in Arema, and as well to produce some more local consumer goods to help raise development. Electrification was also brought up, necessary for the factories to be of much use to the government, and funding allocated for them to do so.
Railway infrastructure it was decided, would be outsourced to the Koians, and a contract offerred to the same Koian companies that performed maintenance and had previously built the Staol railways in Roskana.
All of this as well was compounded by the disaster unfolding in Razgrina, the collapse of the Tsardom both hailed as a miracle and with joy among the populace as news spread - but as well seen as a significant regional crisis that was already straining the local forces that were by and large, underprepared for the task at hand. It wasn't simple nor easy to aid several million people on several islands, especially when in many cases there was still some active combat zones on those islands.
The package would be pushed through the government, as well as a ramshackle aid package after it, meant to address the Razgrina crisis directly.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Oct 12, 2022 6:20:44 GMT -5
Sablien, 1931, Winter
City of Auran, Roskana, Capital Building
Amelia set down the newspaper, allowing for her to see the other members of staff assembled in front of her over the table usually held for presidential meetings. An hour previous it had been used to discuss the logistics of standardizing calibers and ammo types among the Roskanan military and that of its partners in the NRC, to which she had thought would have been a reliable, feasible counter against their current list of enemies they expected to reasonably fight.
The news of the formation of the Sovereign Union was however, a definite setback in their plans. Not only because of the addition of Verak, a nation with a only partially smaller GDP than their own, but because this military and political alliance effectively formalized a genuine threat to the sovereignty of Roskana and its allies.. and in all likelihood, Ouhiri itself. Or at least she liked to think that.
In the case of Galra, that wasn't hard to think, their religion and views were notably anti-non human and they generally constituted the world's largest military power behind Kumosenkan and the Entente, with the NRC being effectively last in the list - meant largely to counter the influence of Galra creeping out of Grinvel and Grinvel's own strategic aims and not a attempt at globally interferring with the influence of Galra. She hadn't even factored in Verak, in truth.. Verak wasn't ever on her radar as a country of importance in a military sense, more of a threat to Amali. They as well were a strange choice she felt, knowing what she did about Galra and Grinvel. A outlier by comparison.
Galrans and Grinvelians, they were.. similar. Very similar, way too similar. Neither was fond of non-humans and that was in Grinvel's case made worse by the fact that historically they'd been repeatedly humiliated by nations of non-humans, particularly Roskana which constantly and consistently had beaten back Grinvelian invasions and in several instances, repaid the debt with their own acts of massive destruction. The animosity with Grinvel was long lasting, ancient and fueled by a on-again off-again hot-to-cold state of unofficial war, only recently made into an official peace by a treaty Grinvel had been forced to sign.
Her eyes focused back in as she actually faintly heard the voices of the various department heads around her at the table, which was enough to break her out of her thoughts. Her pupils receded back into feral slits as the Karrashi woman quietly closed the newspaper, her eyes drifting around the table as her movement made the others turn to look at her.
"..Before someone says the obvious for me, allow me to just do it myself." She'd say. "Yes. This is a serious hamper to our plans."
She would set her hands on the table, taking a breath. "We're going to have to start maneuvering to get around this problem, but for tonight, I think that I will need some time to process what's been told to me." Amelia said, standing up slowly as she pushed her seat out, the thin layer of bandages around her stomach for once now clean, not marked by blood or fungal secretions.
"This meeting is adjourned, and we will have another tomorrow afternoon. I have some phone calls I need to make in the meantime." She would say. The various staff members would get up to leave, and once Amelia was left alone, she took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.. before then staring off at the far wall again as she contemplated that events that had unfolded around her for another moment.
"..Shit." She'd say aloud to herself, turning to go to her desk, and to grab the phone. Wendy was likely asleep by now, but she needed to talk to the Pionare and then she'd speak to the hed of state in Maiz. She had plans, but they'd need the rest of the NRC's cooperation.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Oct 16, 2022 18:12:35 GMT -5
27 Years Ago.
1904, 11th of Fesseria
The air was warm, but the sky was grey. No snow fell nor rain, the air humid but the warmth not oppressive despite it.
On a hilltop overlooking the ruined remains of a once prospering little border city, where the war had broken out almost eight months ago, and were it had come to an end, there was a newly erected cross. Around it, a field of flowers had been planted, wreaths hung above these patches of roses, and a single green flower lay at the foot of the newly erected cross. Most of this had been taken from the remains of the city itself, empty of people and mostly rubble, now used largely as a source of material to build this monument to the death and destruction that had torn so much apart.
Adashenko and some few thousand men from the rest of the 1st Guard's Rifles would be present, and a host of others ranging from military to civilian staff.
He had a speech in his hands, one of which he'd spent the past few days writing, but wasn't sure it was good enough. Or that he could bring himself to give it.
Amelia herself was among the crowd, surrounded by guards and given a wide berth by most, save for a few of whom were considered 'safe'.
When he stood up from his seat after a few moments of syching himself up, the crowd, already rather calm, would fall silent entirely, waiting for him to come up to the rock that'd be for all intents and purposes, his soapbox.
They watched him stand, and as he looked at the paper, he took a few moments to memorize some parts of the passage.. but he didn't keep it, letting it fall away.
His muzzle lifted, head turning to look at the cross, taking a deep breath. He could see the name of his best friend among the many departed carved into the stone cross.
It wasn't a surge of inspiration that rose up from within him, but a deep feeling of pain that drove him to speak.
He turned back around to face the crowd.
"..Eight months ago, and three years before that, we heard the call to Liberty. The tree had withered, and we had let it. In those days of the overthrow, we gave the dying shoots and branches of freedom our blood, and our friends did the same, to pour yet more blood from tyrants on those withering roots."
"We did this not for the sake of ourselves, but for the happiness and prosperity of our children. We knew going into it it'd be a challenge unlike any other, and we emerged from it having grasped a freedom we had nearly taken from us forever. And In Decellien of 1903, we once again faced a threat that sought to strip from us, that same freedom we reclaimed from the hands of a tyrannical regime."
His hands would come to rest at his sides, his eyes drifting over the crowd. "..We met the challenge. We stood in the path of those that would do harm to our people, our children, and steal from us that which is rightly ours - the right of any sapient being. To be free, to choose."
"When the abyss gave that howling call men like me, like you.. us. We did our duty. We took our rifles and we raced into that howling abyss, knowing that many of us would not return to see the fruits of what they fought for. It is to them, those men and women that we owe this victory in the end. Their blood has stained the soil of this land. And as we begin to rebuild.. this hillside, shall remain a clear beacon. A place of memorium." He'd raise his hand and to wipe his eyes, brushing the tears that had begun to stream from his eyes into his fur, matting it down. He tried to suppress the images of friends, now departed, in his mind and vision, faces in the crowd. But he didn't let it stop him from finishing.
"The war is over. But the Imperative remains - that we build that better future that they fought for. It is our duty as a people. It is our obligation, in return for their sacrifice. We must strive to protect the tree of liberty, so that it may grow, here and the world over, and so that the sun may shine on it, and on us."
"Today we give honors and respect, to the departed. And we will send them off, all of them, with a post-humous honors citation.. and this six-gun salute."
"Present, Arms!" He'd shout, stepping off of the rock. Six men, three on either side of him, stepped forwards, and pulled the bolts back on their rifles, aiming them high. The people in the crowd would go to attention, and put their hats and hands over their hearts, watching the rifle barrels, as was tradition.
"Takal!" Adashenko said.
Six rifle reports snapped across the land, again and then again, until six shots had been fired.
Then the ceremony was declared finished, leaving Adashenko to stand by the momument as the people began to disperse, with his only other friend standing not far from him. A moment later, they wrapped an arm around the Festria, and pulled them into a hug, both of them staring at the monument.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Nov 10, 2022 15:20:46 GMT -5
Roskana, Modern Day
City of Auran
There was a shift in the Roskanan government's policy virtually overnight, though this wasn't noticeable to the outside observer until the changes started proper.
Amelia had given a directive to several specific federal agencies, and this directive - will legally dubious, was heeded given the nature of the issue, by and large. Still there was a lot of internal legal backlash and the issues to which there could be a vote, were going to have to be given to the Diamid for a proper vote.
The oversight committees for various sectors of the economy, particular those that provided oversight over the export and import of goods, the manufacturing and sale of firearms and munitions, and things deemed "Critical To State Security" were given orders to reduce their exports significantly, and instead to turn over that excess to the Roskanan government directly to be given to the Department of War's stockpile. The largest major civilian sector targeted thus far by the changes was the medical industry, particularly pharmaceuticals - of which were hit with a total halving of Exports.
The official justification given were not as on the nose as many figured they should be, a half-truth at best in many cases.
"The Roskanan government believes that in order to better provide for, and to protect its citizens in the event of wartime - to which the potential for still exists, especially so now due to the newly formed Sovereign Union, the stockpile of necessary goods must be expanded to better supply the armed forces, and as well to ensure long-term stability should there be any interruption to the flow of goods, staol or other raw materials."
The backlash was near immediate from numerous companies of which saw stocks plummet, though with the relatively small size of the domestic pharma industry in Roskana it was not a massive drop, and government compensation was given out in several instances. Civil suits were already underway, but someone was always trying to sue the government for something in this day and age - there was just an uptick to that number now, and the government could afford lawyers.
However a number of solutions were as well already in consideration to remedy a number of these issues, particularly in the pharma industry to which the Roskanan government was making an effort to prop up using government aid and paying for the medicine it was now buying and stockpiling for domestic consumption in an emergency.
This neccessitated a uptick in foreign imports and as well, likely in foreign exports as well, which had put the government on a new track.
Particularly - they'd now have to get into selling arms and goods to nations abroad, and perhaps even start to make friends or at least remedy relationships outside of their original sphere of influence and focus.. and outside of their comfort zone.
Amelia had made a unpleasant point to the government at large that was still earning her consistent backlash in every branch.
"There are not enough democratic nations in the world to make a reasonable argument for only aligning ourselves with democratic countries in any long-term fashion. If we want to ensure the survival of Roskana long-term, and as well that we are not forced to face Galra and Grinvel with our limited resources, we have to make nice with what we'd consider cold powers - and buy and sell to them as we do anyone else. As well, we must look to Touli and Granuras for imports to fill a lot of the gaps we're making by taking these measures until we can make domestic production a priority."
As well, a number of new political and diplomatic issues were soon to rise from this, but Amelia and the government itself would have to take it in stride - they were embarking on another great shift in policy, largely being forced too by the Karrashi president of the nation and her brother, of whom both held massive political clout. The decision was made by them, and with how many terms Amelia had actually held she retained and had even grown her political capital over the years. This would be a absolutely massive hit to that resevior of influence, but she would again just have to take it and deal.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Nov 11, 2022 8:56:29 GMT -5
Roskana - Modern Day
As the backlash continued, and worsened before it got better (in natural economics fashion) the Roskanan government continued to massively push for two initiatives, of which one was the encouragement of the establishment of additional domestic medicine production, particularly first for medication to handle things like fevers and colds, Penicillins of various types, as well as pain relievers and allergy suppressants. Those were the first major parts of the industry that were being actively subsidized by the Federal government, and of which had a greater affect on the quality of life of the average Roskanan than more expensive medications for specific issues.
Contracts for these were offerred at a preferential rate to either domestic companies to which would be given government assistance, Marrlanian companies, Amalian companies because their medical industry was objectively the best close-by source of medical goods, and then to the UKUG, of which the aim of this was centered around dramatically pushing up domestic access to these goods even as the government was stockpiling the material for future use.
No one in the government said it, most didn't know, but the majority of the Interior circle were aware that in all likelihood, Roskana would be at war with Grinvel within the next decade and by extension, at war with Galra. They weren't worried about Verak.
As well, they'd initiate a diplomatic endeavor to massively import large quantities of ammunition for their rifles as well, the goal being to store vast quantities of ammunition for use during wartime, and to be able to disperse it as needed without needing to worry deeply about ammo usage, at least within the first few months of a major conflict. That 'at least' part was not a strict line, and if theycould get more they were told to get more. The focus of that would have to be a fair number of nations. And as well, various programs and diplomatic overtures would be made for more military equipment from Roskana's allies and economic partners, to which they'd look to Marrlan and the UKUG.
Other perogatives, mostly diplomatic in nature, came too. But a particular one was made into a significant issue in the long-term outlook of Roskana - fuel.
In a war those raillines were in danger, and Roskana as well understood that Galra sat right next to Koi. This created the natural dilemma - fuel would be a scarce resource if they didn't have enough of it to maintain a pace of operations or to potentially try to retake Koi. While coal was an option, if they could get more staol, they were going to get it if they damn well could.
For more diplomatic overtures.. the particularly uncomfortable prospects of making nice with Seleucidania, and potentially Kumosenkan and various other powers was not floated, but demanded.
The Entente power was the focus more so, looking to a close-by power like Seleucidania to be able to take some of the pressure off of Roskana if, or really when, war did break out. The Rosark speaking world was on a collission course with the Grinvelian one, and the addition of Galra to the mix created a clear and present threat to the survival of Roskana not only as a major power, but as a concept. In the cold calculus of war, and of preparing for a war, the logic dictated Roskana become apart of the Entente and bring its allies with it to ensure it had not only the maximum chance of survival, but as well to counter Galra and to a more limited extent, Verak.
Though, they were not massively threatened by Verak. If Verak was truly a power to be worried about that far north they'd be seeing them in Koi, most military officials figured.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Dec 7, 2022 6:08:48 GMT -5
Roskana, City of Auran
Capitol building
Paranoia had been a underlying rational for a great many things undertaken by the modern Roskanan government, and this had often stifled its potential in many significant ways, economically, militarily, politically, and internationally.
This paranoia usually manifested in hightened border patrol presence, economic action against foreign states, and sometimes even sanctions. But the formation of the Sovereign Union had partly cooled this paranoia by providing it validation.
Roskana as a nation was always fixated on Grinvel, and the historical precedent was set by over a thousand years of on-and-off wars between Grinvel and Roskana, regardless what form either nation took throughout history.
The Animosity was a long running tradition between either nation really.
Roskanan foreign policy was shaped by a desire to spread a republican world order, but equally so that desire was tempered by their neighbor.
Grinvel had always been a threat to the safety of Roskana and vice versa - neither nation innocent in truth of committing crimes against one another of many heinous natures.
And so, when their enemy had aligned itself with Galra and Verak, it had validated much of that paranoia, and transformed it into fear.
The odds had tipped in full again. Now it was not Roskana that had the upperhand against Grinvel, but it'd be the Grinsky who had an advantage over them, with aid from the Galrans and Veraki.
The Roskanan government did not know the full extent of such assistance - even with spies in Grinvel there was only so much information that could be transfered back and forth from a militarized border, even if it was mostly empty until one side or another would perform exercises or shows of force.
In need of more information, they would first send a message to Marrlan, to arrange a meeting to share intel.
Next, the Roskanan government would bring in RICE once more, and begin to plan an operation to enter Grinvel, and to perform espionage, to ascertain the situation within Grinvel in as great of detail as they could hope to.
As well, as Roskanan military planners and strategists, as well as a number of think tanks began to meet and discuss the situation internationally and with their direct neighbor in the Sovereign Union, surveyors would be sent out to examine the state of the military infrastructure on the border of Grinvel and along the various lines of forts that had been built over the past century or so, from the old Tsarist Fortress-Roskana Project, and left over from the 1904 War with Grinvel. Much of that infrastructure was likely not serviceable, and needed to be repaired - if it could be, and if it was worth the effort, which they at that moment, did not know. Still, it paid to be careful.
Meanwhile, the Roskanan government had finalized contracts for Areman development.
Arumaki Co, and 150 Construction Factories (Roskanan Mainland) of which the company owned, had been contracted to work on road development within Arema.
Arema Construction Company and its 56 Construction Factories (Roskanan Arema) had been contracted to directly expand inner-city roads in Roskanan Arema's capital city of Kaalakiota.
And Serama Corp. had been contracted, with its 140 Construction Factories (Mainland) for the expansion of civilian ports to provide the capacity to dock and service 70 more vessels in the ports of Roskanan arema, starting on the main island in the Capital city of Kaalakiota, and on the other islands in the cities of Marinaught, and Ishukone.
Roskana Transit has been contracted, with 55 Railroad factories (Mainland), to begin building a railroad on the main island from one end to the other, to enable the rapid movement of goods.
And Core Logistics has been contracted to build a office in the nation to manage the logistics of the railroad, with Arumaki Co. signing with them to build the structure itself and dedicating 20 construction factories (Mainland) to the effort.
Finally, Serama Corp has been contracted to begin building the infrastructure necessary for electricification of the city's port, and a pair of Staol power plants with the necessary infrastructure, and 60 construction factories (Mainland) dedicated to the effort.
370 Mainland Construction Factories
56 Roskanan Areman Construction Factories
55 Railroad Factories
Construction was set to begin immediately, with the Anuvia Shipping Company contracted by the government to provide shipping between the Mainland and Arema.
In Razgrina..
The situation was set to improve. The last pockets of resistance were effectively overwhelmed and forced into surrender. The Islands population was demilitarized, and largely disarmed.
Despite protests, the Roskanan government opted for hearts and minds and continued to steadily deliver aid to the island, though it increased the Marine presence to about 10,000, and stationed a pair of Battleships in the region to further secure the area, and to protect it. The Roskanan government would not offer the island a choice to self-determination however, and would formally declare it a territory of Roskana, as the Protectorate of Roskanan Razgrina.
A military government would be installed on the island, and the mainland government was arrange for the shipping of food, necessary rebuilding goods, and begin the process of organizing a small territorial defense force and returning the rest of Razgrina's adults to the work force for the island chain. Damage had to be repaired, and a generation of suffering made up for by stabilizing the situation, and rebuilding the island. First, they'd focus on getting all essential exports brought to the Island regularly.
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Post by VoxApocrypha on Dec 9, 2022 14:01:25 GMT -5
Roskana, City of Auran
Capitol building
Strategy Meeting Conclusion
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