NES2 V - The Great Game.

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“Rule the Fed’rates, the Fed’rates rules the waves. Fed’rates shan’t ever be slaves.”

King George the fifth of England was one of those rulers who was cursed with fairly poor looks; he was only of average height, his nose–which could at best be called large and at worst be compared to a casaba melon–didn’t improve things, nor did his unfortunately prominent ears.

Yet, he managed to maintain an aura of command and importance. His quiet voice would not be heard over a room full of chattering people, but it was quiet in such a way that it demanded everyone to listen to him–and it often succeeded in that. His blue-gray eyes looked as though they would bore into your very heart and soul, searching out the falsehoods in your statements and finding the Truth.

Not to mention the fact that he was king of the greatest nation in the world. Britain. One of the Federated Kingdoms. He was, in fact, the most influential person in perhaps all the Federated Kingdoms; the kings of the other nations taking a backseat to him (though they were still very powerful in their own right); no one parliamentarian matched him, either.

And it was he that John Newton was talking to.

“Is it truly wise, Your Majesty, to have claimed the Arctic lands?”

George the Fifth was never quick to smile. It came slowly, but when it finally unfolded across his face, it filled the room with the emotion of joy and pleasure. He had that gift, of radiating his emotions to the entire world.

“It is quite wise indeed, if you will excuse me the somewhat arrogant comment. The French cannot object, for they have no bases in the region; no historical claim, and no people there. They have no reason to object, and they would not risk starting a general war.”

“The Dalnorussians–”

“Forgive me, John, but if the Russians intend to gain our acceptance of a certain deal to be made–”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I thought you rejected that outright?”

“Oregon has few settlers, and is fairly worthless. No, I am still considering it. If the Dalnorussians intend to gain our acceptance at all, as I said, they will not contest the claim. And if they think they can destroy the Federated Kingdoms in a protracted war, then they are fools. Unless they receive French assistance, it is foolish; within a month we’d secure all of Alaska. With French assistance, it would develop into a general war, and with the Holy Roman Empire guarding our European flank, the French, frankly, cannot risk a European conflict.”

“What if they intend to covertly support rebel groups in our territories?”

“Frankly, John, I don’t think that’s feasible. You can speak of Platines and Spaniards, Lousianians and Quebecois, Ngunis, Sikhs, Indians, and Javans, but frankly, none of them frighten me much. Forgive me, again, but I feel that if any were so foolish as to rebel, they would garner limited support, and should be put down with relative ease. We have forces to spare for all of them, and the plans as well.”

“Spare me the propaganda, please. Do we really have the capabilities for this?”

“Yes. We can sustain two protracted wars at once, unless I miss my mark, and even if we were to be drawn in three, we could still feasibly bring one to a somewhat disadvantageous conclusion for us, and then utterly win the next two.”

Newton nodded.

“Onto other manners,” the sovereign continued smoothly. “I hear you’ve been blessed with a child, John. You must be very proud.”

“Two, actually. Thomas and Mary Newton. Twins. Thomas has started to walk already, and Mary seems to be gurgling something which actually sounds like English.”

George smiled slowly again, and sipped some tea.

“That’s wonderful news. I am happy for you, John.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. There is something else I wish to bring before you, before the day is out.”

“Speak, my friend. You have my confidence, as always.”

“Well, you know that I have been campaigning on a rather liberal platform lately. I would like you to endorse a certain bill for Parliament...”
 
"All of you will be the first of our new, diciplined army. Our new defense, our new hope." The general spoke with a great sense of prestige, the newly trained soldiers knew that he was a battle-hardened man. "Our enemies are planning. To the east, to the west, to the south, to the north. They are in every direction, and we are between them. Poland has been weak, we have been weak! Over and over again, history has been repeated. Our territorial integrity has been insulted; our ambition doubted; our focus questioned! For too long has Poland sat idly and watched world events with hazy eyes. But by God, we won't stand for hazy eyes anymore!" roared the general. The room erupted into cheers of support. All of the kingdom's most important officials were there, but the king wasn't. There were even more important events brewing elsewhere, and this was saying something. Because the graduation ceremony of the first class from the Warsaw Military Academy was a very important event in the foundation of a "new order" in Poland. These men would lay that foundation.

The new troops were professionals in every sense of the word. Handpicked by the founders of the school, these men had accomplished many things physically that ordinary men hadn't. Indeed, many, if not most of these men were athetes. In the ancient era of Athenians, events called the "Olympics" were held. If a event of such kind would be held in Poland, these men would be the stars; they would be the Olympians. But this wasn't a case of "brawn, no brain." Because these men had also shown exemplary achievements in academia. They were the smartest and strongest of their class; they were the hope of Poland.
 
The following scene occurs in the Chehel-sotoon Palace, temporary living quarters of the Shah, and meeting place for the Islamic Council. The meeting is secret, so no names are given.

Ten men sat at a table, most of them older. Surprisingly, the most important one among them was the youngest, although he by no means looked the youngest.

Three of the men had swords buckled around their waists. One had gold epaulettes. Six of them wore robes, black and long. One of them wore a crown, a cloak, and a vest embossed with a golden falcon. Three had spectacles. All of them carried guns, in light of current events.

“Hail Ardashir!”

“Thank you, gentlemen. It is understood that no one will speak of this meeting. Let us begin.”

“Of course, sire. I trust your wound is healed?”

“Yes, though I am told the scar shall remain.”

“Ah, my regrets. Let us attend to the domestic issues first, Ibrahim?”

“Well, construction of the Palace goes according to schedule, however the workers have demanded an increase in pay. They are saying that they receive no more money then they did under Hosayn.”

“Impossible! At any rate, the increased expense is intolerable, and it places an undue strain on the royal treasury, in addition…”

“Very well, pay the workers increased wages. If it is needed to continue the project.”

“But my liege, the expense…”

“Qalim, are you questioning my judgement?”

“No sire. I…no, I am not.”

“Good. As to the Kalatian issue?”

“We are receiving mixed signals from the Turkmenis. The exact line of demarkation between the redrawn borders are proving to be a problem, and we have not yet received payment for the selling of the Kalatian land.”

“Jeshua, Mustafa…”

“I am pleased with the independent defenses of the farmers in regard to the borderlands, but they say Turkmen attacks are becoming intolerable. It would seem that the raiders are unaffiliated with the Turkmenistan government.”

“Order the military to kill these raiders if they enter our territory again. This is intolerable, and I would hope that a dispatch has been sent to our delegation in Samarqand in regards to the issue.”

“With all due respect sir, the raiding is fairly irrelevant. We have greater issues to deal with on the diplomatic stage.”

“Have the Federates agreed?”

“We have yet to receive conclusive information, but this preliminary document does clarify things. Clearly London has put a lot of work into this proposal.”

“Generally, we agree, and defer to their expertise. However, add in the amendments that I proposed at the last meeting. You realize, gentlemen, that we cannot speak openly until this business is widely known.”

“Yes, but who will gain the initiative?”

“I trust our Turkmeni allies, Ibrahim, and hope that you will be wise enough to do the same.”

“Very well, my lord.”

“Yes…now as to China?”

“Ah, the Ministry has reported significant breakthroughs along that line, sire. It would seem that the Emperor was quite receptive to our proposal, and was actually contemplating making a similar one to our government when the Persian delegation arrived at the Imperial City.”

“Wonderful! When can we announce this to those in the government that need to know?”

“I would estimate three to five months, depending on events here.”

“That is acceptable. There is only one more issue gentlemen. Karamurad seems to have found a holy relic of Islam. Is this rumor, or fact?”

“The original has been found, it would seem. All our research indicates this to be true. It should be removed from the site in several months, barring disaster of course.”

“Ah, it would be excellent if the Turkmenis would allow the holy book to be shown in Shiraz. I would very much like to see it.”

“Why of course, my lord.”

“Perhaps Karamurad will even come himself.”

And at the idea of Karamurad in Shiraz, the entire table laughed.

OOC: Wow. Six (well, 4 if you count the Military Academy as one) stories since the update. I seriously need to get some sleep. I'm going to take a two day break from NES'ing. See you all at the update!
 
OOC: Wow. Six (well, 4 if you count the Military Academy as one) stories since the update. I seriously need to get some sleep. I'm going to take a two day break from NES'ing. See you all at the update!
Click to expand...
My stories are definitely not to the standard of yours, but they are meant to be stories. :(
 
OOC: I WILL WRITE MORE STORIES! :p Mwahahahaha :evil:
 
"It is done," he thought, as he put down his pen and watched the fresh black ink dry on his paper. He had worked on this document for weeks on end, drafting, editing, rewriting, perfecting the masterwork of his lifetime, a document he knew would be not only the most important thing he ever wrote, but one of the most important documents in all history. He had dedicated every fiber of his being to completing this glorious manuscript, simple as it appeared in stark black and white. It appeared simple, yes; but its appearance was deceiving. It was a broad, sweeping proclamation laid down in but a few words; at once a declaration of war and a prayer for peace.

The candle that lit the author's study had burnt down low, and even now began to wane in its luminosity. The other man in the room nonetheless picked up the document, and, squinting his eyes against the dying light, sought to read that which his friend had written, that which would give new life to his people.

"It is done," he said, laying the paper back on the desk. "It is beautiful."

The candle flickered, growing slowly dimmer with the passing of time, like a heavenly soul slowly dying under the weight of earthly oppression. The dim flame seemed ready to extinguish itself, when it suddenly lept back up with an intense brightness equal to that it had possessed when first lit; the wax had fallen away from some last piece of wholesome wick, and this liberty enlivened the flame, if only for a moment. In that instant of illumination, the study was shown plainly: desk, bookshelves, inkwell, weapons lying about in mismarked crates. Crates labeled "books", "instruments", "FRAGILE - glass"; crates filled with rifles and ammunition, knives and lance-heads. The author stood, lifted his foot atop one of these crates, stretched out the tense body which had been hours at that desk, putting down in words the consciousness of a nation.

"Our course is settled, then," he asked his compatriot, half-inquiring and half-stating what he saw as -- hoped to be -- fact.

"It is. When the preparations are made, and all things are ready, the assembly will release this text to the world, and make known to all peoples the grievances of our nation. Your words shall speak for us all, and justify our actions in the eyes of the world."

"We're traitors, you know," mused the author aloud. "If we fail in this, they'll hang us as common conspirators."

"History will vindicate us, then; these words you have written, and the natural truth of Almighty God, will justify our actions, treason though some may call them, to this and every generation. And, God willing, and so long as men remain brave and noble in heart, our example shall be an inspiration to future generations who chafe under tyrrany; and they too will raise their hands and their voices, and do that which we may fail to. This is what matters, my friend; whether we live or die, whether these steps we undertake succeed or fail, matter little so long as they serve to inspire our posterity to equal or greater acts of courage. These words, I think, are immortal, as is equally our Cause, which love of Justice and God Himself demands of us and every generation which has preceded and which will follow us. Therefore, let us be confident that what we do will change history, at this time or another; and let us have no fear of the gallows, save that which gives us a healthy caution in the prosecution of our movements."

And such was the nature of what these men prepared to undertake. God alone knew the fate that awaited themselves and their movement; and yet in Him and in victory they had faith, for they were in all ways justified in their means and objectives.
 
From the Grand Rada of Dalnorossia
To The World and King George

We acknowledge the claims of the Federates to Northern Canada, and the obvious military supremacy of the worlds greatest colonial power, if we consider their pundits claims to occupy Alaska in a month to be somewhat optimisitic. We are most agreeable to the excellent suggestion at drawing the line at the Dehcho River (what you call the Mackenzie) as long is it is recognised that the rivers course does not follow the current border (see attached documents with a more accurate map our explorers have uncovered). We propose that both borders move out to follow the rivers course before moving directly south from the western edge of the Great Slave lake along Lon 115.8W (the edge of the Great slave lake) to the River that marks the current northern border of the Federate Territories.

We hope that any fur trappers or adevnturers already prospecting in the areas claimed by the Federates (orders have already been sent) be treated fairly; it can us many months to get word to the isolated communities in the extreme north.

In light of our agreement to this broad sweep of federate dominons, we hope that our prior proposal can once more be placed on the negotiating table, with land and costs hammered out like reasonable men.

Yours sincerely, perviy prikaznik Dezhnev.

OCC:

nifty story said:
the kings of the other nations
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I thought there was but one king, multiple parliments?
 
NK, Australia isn't quite as explored as that.
 
Imperial Edict Regarding the Federated Proposal to Divide the Continent of Noveau Gaulle
Issued by the Honorable Leon de Tocqueville, Amiral de l'Armada française; Approved by His Imperial Majesty Ferdinand-Philippe and the Imperial Assembly of the French Empire

While we, the men who discovered the continent of Noveau Gaulle, appreciate Federate attempts to mediate peaceful colonization of the continent, we feel it irresponsible to do so at this time, due to a number of factors which impair our ability to judge what is the proper course of action at this time. Firstly, France, or any other power, has yet to explore or map the continent in any significant portion. Portions which remain largely undiscovered are the south, southwest, the northwest, and the finally the west. Secondly, the British have not set one foot on the continent, and cannot at this time attempt to claim half of something they have barely heard about, much less seen or touched. France was the first to discover the continent, and we were the first to open trade with the locals, and therefore we believe it is our right to be the first which get to explore the continent. Just as we have no prior claims on Greenland or the arctic regions and will therefore not interfere in your annexations of aforementioned land, you have no prior claims on the land of Noveau Gaulle, nor any right to interfere in the french efforts to expand our trade routes and increase our influence in the region.

That having been said, we cannot negociate any partitioning of the continent of Noveau Gaulle or the islands around it for atleast another year, after our surveyors and cartographers have properly cataloged the region in records and maps, and after we, the discoverers of the continent, secure a proper base of influence from where we can more correctly observe our situation.
 
Insane_Panda said:
Oh, Australia is now proclaimed Noveau Gaulle, or Toqcueville, or something like that.
Click to expand...

What about 'New Zealand' - will that be Toqcuevillie?

Also a story (nothing on Thlayli's epics of course, soon to be bound in one omnibus publication :P)

________________________________


"I will have SILENCE!" shouted Dezhnev, bringing the great Bulava of the Perviy Prikaznik down onto the upper table with crash so loud that the protests feld before it. He laid the massive mace, inlaid in gold and silver, down on the table and paused for a moment as the ministers and ataman's were finally still. The old weighty table had numerous cracks and dents in it from the Bulava; it was a rare leader of Dalnorossia who did not have to resort to such measures to make himself heard!

"Good. Now why do you protest so much?" He asked, knowing full well the answer. A Fierce glance quieted a number of men who looked ready to leap to their feet. "Mazepa? Speak for all who protest" The arch-conservative rose to his feet.

"Such a thing has not been done before; it is unseemly to ask us to pay for it!"

Dezhnev walked slowly up and down the front of the chamber, a thoughtful expression on his face as if he was really considering Mazepa compliant. It was always useful to have predictable opponetents, if only all his enemies were such.

"Of course, and the lack of precident makes something impossible; thoughts like yours would still have us under a Polish heel! Besides even the basis for your complaint is in error - Who here does not have assistant and staff, gathered on your own or assigned by your Rada?" he addressed the assmebled parliment as a whole; his supporters looking smug and his opposion sheepish.

"None speak up? How strange, Mazepa here would have me think I was crazy to think I could not be in every place at once! All I propose is that the secretrial cabinent be offically recognised as positions by the Grand Rada, and that approprite funds be alotted. Do you doubt the choices I made and you approved? Paliy, whose efforts have made the wastes bloom, for secretary of agriculture? Old Briukhovetsky, who taught most of you to fight, as Secretary of defense? You assigned them to me because their deeds had shook the land, do you now not approve of them?"

"You gather to much power to yourself" a quieter and much more dangerous voice cut in; Skoropadsky, Ataman of a far eastern Voisko, strong tie with the pacific ports, young, ambitious.

Dezhnev stopped for a moment, then burst into laughter. The sight of the gloomy bear of a man, as strong and grim as any to lift the Great Bulava, reacting such was far more unsettling than any violent outburst.

"You think me some autocrat? Skoropadsky, you have travelled, you have seen true monarchs. I do not wield , and wish not to weild a fraction of the power they adminsiter. I do what we must not for my own glory, though that is something of a benefit, but to keep us free from those whose blood claims overlordship. You have seen the reports and diplomacy, you know what lies ahead. Can any of you see a different path, one that does not end in shattered ruin?"

Again, silence. Dezhnev brooded a moment, wondering how Skoropadsky's energies could be directed more usefully. Then he began to field the rain of questions on the limits and powers of each of the new secretaries offices. If only all opponents were so predictable he thought once more...
 
Any attempt by the French government to occupy the King George archipelago (OTL Bismarcks) will be met with force.
 
Panda, France's might deserves it's own stories. ;) Even so, France is mentioned in this one.

I do have all the chapters in Word, (19 1/2 pages before this story) just in case I do want to bind them into a book one day. With that said....

The following are the personal memoirs of a European Federate visiting Persia.

Teheran was an interesting city to stop at. It is totally Persian, having not seen a foreign flag in 200 years, except those that fly above the Federate and French Consulates. But the city itself is one of great diversity. Shiites, Sunnis, Kurds, Turkmenis, Armenians, Georgians, even the odd Arab or Uzbek, all found a place in this thriving, coastal town. Renowned nationally for it’s universities and gardens, it is experiencing a flourishing of culture in the early decades after what Persians are calling "The Great Restoration".

There are several districts to the city, each carrying it’s own unique attitude. It could be said that each quarter is a city in itself. In the past, minorities have been persecuted by the Zands and their police, but now a measure of equality and tolerance seems to be given to all Persian citizens. Granted, Shiites still hold the best positions in government and military, but all Persians have the opportunity to attain these positions.

Teheran also gives the interested European a chance to study Persian culture. Cooled by the breezes from the Caspian Sea, and heated by the oppressive Middle Eastern sun, (as well as the fires of a thousand political debates,) Teheran was exactly the place for me to gain such an opportunity.

University Quarter- The marbled halls of Teheran University spread across the walled compound of the Muslim world’s largest center of learning. Various interesting sights are to be seen if one tours the huge complex. Walking through the arch of the “Shah’s Gate,” I saw near total chaos. Later I was told that final examinations were approaching. Two medical students rushed by, (carrying what seemed to be a cadaver, to my dismay,) and some white-coated chemists ran by with boxes of some awful substance on carts. (I would say it was sulphur.) Two young imams were literally collapsing under a stack of early Safavid Koran translations, and five architects angrily argued over a schematic of some type. Various teachers were heckling all of them.

Absolute chaos, I tell you. Perhaps if I had not come at the one time of the year when the University was bursting at the seams, I might have found a guide to give me a tour of the place. Being an adventurous soul however, I decided to strike out on my own. I had heard that Teheran was a great center of innovation in engineering, both civilian and military, so I left for that section of the quarter. Passing by various colleges dedicated to the subject, I often saw discarded gears, levers, and wheels everywhere. By this time I had realized that everyone was either busy or studying, and so I resolved to come back on the weekend. I did overhear one conversation of note as I walked toward the back exit of the University… here is what I can recall. My translation is a bit spotty however.

“Ahmed, you realize however that the same power harnessed by steam to move railcars could equally be used in some sort of oil based engine?” “Oil based…how do you figure?” “As you can see in this drawing, a series of continuous sparks could perhaps cause the burnt oil to turn pistons, do you see? The pistons could in turn move wheels, and there you have it! A perpetually combustive oil-based engine!” “I agree, your design seems simple enough. But these alloys will be difficult to obtain, and other problems…”

At this point other people were coming, so I decided to go. But I’m sure our engineers in London would be thorougly intrigued by the conversation. Next was the Foreign Quarter.

Foreign Quarter- It’s nice to see that Western influences haven’t been totally obliterated in Persia. It was like walking through Paris when I entered this section of town. People-watchers talked at French-style cafes, and bakeries filled the square with the smell of fresh bread. I saw bookstores and libraries line the streets, most filled with chattering people. (Or not, in the case of the libraries.) A beautiful fountain stood in the middle of the square, with various waterfowl splashing about in it. I asked a local who the bronze statue on top of the fountain portrayed, and he told me it was a French general, that reformed the Persian Army in the late 15th century, introduced gunpowder, and literally saved the country from rampaging Ottoman forces*.

In gratitude for the service he had delivered, the Shah declared that all Frenchmen would forever be welcome in his nation. Apparently a large group of French expatriates have taken him up on his offer. A variety of coffee-houses double as centres for political debate, for several hundred Republicans fled to Persia from the vengeful government. There is an unspoken agreement between the police and the French that they are free to speak their ideas as much as they like, as long as they do not act on them. I found this to be quite amusing, and perhaps Europeans can learn some lessons on political tolerance from the Persians. Isn’t that ironic? I shall continue to write on my travels tomorrow.

*In OTL it was a British general.
 
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