StarDestroyer.Net BBS

*cues Motorhead "The Game"*

Time to PLAY THE GAME!

Sorry, couldn't help myself.



Somewhere else


Well, I never thought they'd get this far....

Q looked over the world called Nova Terra circa the year 2019. He was quite pleased to see that it wasn't reduced to a charred radioactive cinder like the last planet he gave this bunch. Maybe it was the new players? Or was it just pure dumb luck like these mortals are so capable of.

Or... maybe it was the fate of the first world? So many with knowledge of the first world, it surely restrained them. Well, except Sheppard maybe....

That was the thing, wasn't it? Once they got to nuclear weapons, none of them wanted a repeat of round 1. So even if they poked and prodded none of them actually went all the way. It was a magnificent display of humanity's will to restrain its savage instincts in the name of self-preservation.

It was also boring.

"Hrm... how shall we do things this time?" Q had an answer right away. Take away those damned nuclear weapons for one. Without the prospect of nuclear annihilation, well, maybe they'd mix it up a bit more.

But how? Oh, sure, last time they had no nuclear weapons... but he let them have nuclear energy, and it was just a short trip away to them. This time nothing nuclear could be permitted. And he had to make things more exciting, more level and complex. Even out the power balance....

A ha! That was the thing. Q snapped his fingers. A bald-headed figure in a gray-shouldered uniform appeared in a flash. The man looked around at the pure whiteness and then toward Q, which caused his expression to darken. "Q, what is it this time?!"

"Oh, calm down Jean-Luc, I've only brought you here to do one simple solitary task." Q snapped his fingers again... and a coin appeared in Picard's clenched right hand.

He opened his hand and looked upon it. A gold coin emblazoned with "1900". He flipped it over to see what was on the other side, and this one said "1925". "Q?"

"It has nothing to do with you, Picard. I just need you to toss the coin."

"You did all this... for a coin toss?", Picard asked incredously, clearly suspicious.

"Well, I couldn't toss the coin myself, could I? I can't trust the result then!"

Still suspicious, Picard was very eager to get back to business. "Fine," he snapped. He tossed the coin up, let it land in his hand without looking at it, and flipped it onto the back of his left hand before revealing it.

Seeing the result, Q clapped his hands. "1925 it is!" He turned away to begin fashioning the proper world.

"Q!"

"Oh, yes," he yawned, snapping his fingers and returning Picard to the Enterprise. Now, down to business. We take this copy of Earth's solar system, change a few things here or there... oh. Just added an extra third or so population. Oh well, should make things more interesting this time.

With a snap of his fingers, Q had his world ready. He reached into the player's minds and used that to shape the world below... and then, for extra interest, he wiped them rather thoroughly of any knowledge of the last two rounds - well, for those who knew of them anyway. Maybe a little bit in the back of their minds might remember it in the middle of a dream, but only just that. This time he would keep them in the dark, maybe play with them once and a while for sport or to liven things up, but for the most part he would remain a spectator....

"And here we go."

Q's fingers snapped.... and the game began anew.

North Times-Democrat-Enquirer

It is a proven fact that whites in the Shepistani Federation are on average, 25% smarter than their counterparts in the Grand Dominion. So says the results of a new survey in the Grand Eugenics Journal, one of the most respected publications in the sub-continent.

In addition, the survey also added more data to the DeMarre Phrenology database of measurements, including many measurements of the local Hindu population, who until this point had not been accurately sampled by Phrenologists...

[ooc]the country name is a placeholder, I'll change it later, maybe[/ooc]

Somewhere along the "Zone of Death" aka the Shepistani/Grand Dominion Border

The artillery shells rained down on the Grand Dominion border outpost, causing dust to shake loose from the ceiling of the bunker which had been built after the first five border outposts in this location had been easily blown up by Shepistani howitzers.

A Grand Dominion officer grumbled and got out of his bunk, reaching for the telephone that would connect him to Corps Artillery.

"Yes. Another shelling. Yes, the sound and flash directors have a rough location. No, we're fine here. Just some dust. Use the 400s this time. Maybe that'll shut them up long enough for me to get some rest."

Minutes later, several 400mm siege howitzer shells whistled over the outpost, headed towards the Shepistani side of the boarder.

Results Another average day in the Zone of Death. Some landscape rearranged, a note of protest exchanged, etc etc. It's all fun and games till you poke your eye out with that 400mm Seige Howitzer.

Dai-Nippon Press

Hirohito ascends to the throne

Today a new Emperor ascends to the Crysanthemum Throne after the the Death of Taishō. Today Crown Prince Hirohito has been crowned Emperor and begins the Showa Era, may his divine guidence seen the Empire through to a glorious future!...

(I appologize if i get any of the Protocol or terminology wrong)

The Bugle
Page 3
Today the King was present as various representatives met for what is being called the worlds largest to date universal arms expo as dozens of companies from over two dozen countries sent representatives with demonstration pieces hoping to interest the Government in purchase of everything from small arms to light field artillery pieces, to even one or two of the newest model aeroplanes available for sale on the international civilian market. The Prime Minster and his Royal Highness were seeing touring the grounds of the expo held on the outskirts of London along with several senior military officials. It was no reported if any of the weapons caught the governments attention but it was noted the expo had several setbacks. Chief among them when one of the American companies new aeroplanes refused to start for several minutes as his Highness looked on. The issue was the cold weather claimed the company, but matters were not helped when the plane because taxing to take off and the engine died half way down the field leading the plane to go nose down in the dirt. Other than the poor showing of the plane the remainder of the expo was considered a success and another one has already been scheduled for next year.

Opinion Page
Mainland Menace?
by Michael Witeworth
Citizens of the Empire we need to face facts when it comes to our sometimes friends on the mainland. Where it not for economic reasons and the might of our Royal Fleet there is no questions that other countries would be eager to shut down the trade our dear England depends on to keep her factories producing. Even as the foremost producer of durable goods and home the worlds largest shipyards, we can no longer say our Fleet is the greatest in the world since the massive expansion of some of our former colonies armaments programs we are at best first among equals. We must maintain our edge as it is the only thing that allows our great Empire to prosper. Tell your member of parliament that our Navy can be spared no expense!

Qasr al-Ablaq
Cairo



Siegfried von Schenk paced through the torchlit halls of the Al-Ablaq Palace, heels of black riding boots clicking against tiled floors. He had no eye for the domes and minarets of the mosques and palaces outside, nor for the columns or the pishtaq arches inside. The Citadel of Saladin held no more secrets for the Count, who after the catastrophic loss of the old had made this city his new home.

The mind of the Count was occupied with the myriad machinations of the Sultan's court. It had taken years before he'd understood the webs of power that threaded the Citadel: between the Grand Vizier and the Sultan, the Caliph and the Emirs, the Generals and the Sheiks and the Ministers of the Lesser Diwan. One way or the other each of them plotted and schemed: most to win favor with the Sultan, preferably at the expense of their enemies... And some to overthrow him, although such would never be said aloud. As an outsider, untrusted and ill-regarded, it had been incredibly difficult to rise to any sort of prominence in that environment, but Von Schenk had managed it. But like anything prominence at the Sultan's court had its price, and in this case the price to pay was that one was forced to participate in the perpetual Machiavellian games of the court, lest one risked falling from favor – and all the unpleasantry that came with such a fall from grace.

On this particular moment Siegfried von Schenk was trying to conceive of a way to convince the Greater Diwan that expansion of his factories in Al-Aqabah was not just in his, but also in their interest, despite claims to the contrary by his principal competitors in Jiddah and Kuwait. So immersed was the Count in his own thoughts that when he rounded the next corner he barely had the time to recognize the black-garbed assassin before it was too late.

Cold steel flashed in the flickering torchlight. Instinctively the Count threw himself flat and the curved killing blade passed through thin air where he had stood but a moment before. The assassin was quick. A normal man would have died at the attack, but Der Graf Altwitz-Klarburg was no normal man. Adrenalin surged as reflexes honed at the Deutsche Fechtschule and the Accademia Nazionale kicked in. Siegfried rolled across the floor away from the assassin, vaulting to his feet and drawing the rapier at his side in one smooth motion.

For a brief moment the two opponents stood frozen, as if measuring each other. The assassin was wrapped in black. A kufeya folded around his head, leaving only a slit for the eyes. Abruptly the assassin lunged, thrusting his dagger forward. Siegfried evaded the thrust and stepped into the assassin's guard, slapping away the man's arm with the basket hilt before putting his blade through the man's chest. Even as he ripped the rapier clear he caught the man's hand and diverted the curved dagger into the assassin's side. As his opponent collapsed he caught the man by the throat and ripped the kufeya from his face. “Who sent you?” the Count demanded.

The assassin opened his mouth as if to speak. Had it not been for the rush of combat there would have been no warning. Siegfried saw the blackened tooth at the back of the man's mouth and the strange workings of the killer's jaw muscles as he bit down on the tooth. The count had just enough time to throw himself back as a cloud of choking poisonous gas erupted from the man's mouth. Siegfried stumbled back. The fleeting smell of scented Geraniums drifted through the hall. Clutching a perfumed handkerchief over his nose and mouth the Count looked down on the body of the would-be assassin.

From the look of it, court intrigue had just been taken to the next level.

Grand Duchy continues to solicit interest

With backing from the King representatives of the Grand Duchy of Nicaragua are continuing in their quest to gain support for a proposed trans continental canal. Proponents of the idea have long held that using the Rio San Juan and Lake Nicaragua to power the canal is the best solution to the time honored problem of shipping from the East to West Indies. Today the Grand Duchy announced that it was in the process of developing a complete finance and specification package that would allow international construction experts to bid on portions of the project.

Perhaps the biggest step forward has been the recent announcement that a contract has been awarded for a sum of just under 7 million pounds sterling (or just over 23 million pesos/$34 million) which will be to excavate and operate a deep water shipping channel across the Rivas isthmus. With the lake already capable of handling deep water traffic the only barrier remains the challenge of the Rio San Juan.

The Madagascar Tribune

Police arrest Red Guerrillas

The National Police Service today announced that they have broken up a cell of the Workers Liberation Front, the Communist organization that seven years ago attempted to overthrow the legal government of Madagascar in a bloody civil war, and like all Communist organizations is banned from operating legally within the nation's territory. The early dawn raid in the industrial district of Antananarivo saw twenty-three Communist subversives arrested and six shot dead while attempting to resist the police assault squad. Over a hundred kilograms of explosives were also seized, as well as weapons and ammunition. This cell is suspected of having carried out the Steel Tower bombing two weeks ago, in which the president of the Imerna Steel Corporation was nearly killed, as well as a sniper attack that killed the chairman of the company's board during a visit to a smelting plant.

Police Captain Ranomenjanahary commented on the raid: "This is the most sophisticated WLF cell we've encountered in a long time. As you know, the WLF returned to it's roots as an underground organization after it's defeat in the civil war, but has never recovered the popular support it had before the conflict, so until now have been little more than an annoyance...Given the recent spike in attacks for no apparent reason, we suspect external foreign aid, though we have found nothing in the lair of these scum to indicate whom that might be: All the weapons and explosives are common types that could have come from anywhere...Under vigorous interrogation, all of the suspects insist they do not know where their aid originally came from, claiming they dealt with an intermediary who refused to reveal his face...In light of this development, we've increased security at all ports, and we've also requested that the Coast Guard step up inspections of inbound freighters". Ranomenjanahary refused to comment on where he believed the group's aid came from, saying it could be "any" of the Communist countries or international organizations now spreading their vile influence across the world.

In a statement issued shortly after the raid, Prime Minister Randriana praised the efforts of the National Police in combating the WLF, but reminded all citizens that it is their duty to remain vigilant and report any subversive activity, and only then can the Red Menace be stopped from gaining a foothold in the country. The recent resurgence of the WLF has been a sensitive issue for Randrina's Social Democrats, whose sweeping reforms had been boasted as the most effective way to combat Communism by pulling the legs from under it's support base. The opposition Liberal party claims the recent attacks as evidence this strategy has failed, but with elections coming before years end and increasing public pressure to put a stop to the attacks, Randriana is stressing that while he believes his reform strategy is succeeding, he will not hesitate crack down on Communist subversion wherever it appears, citing today's raid as a prime example. He also vowed to find out who is aiding the WLF.

The Gold Palace, Williamsburg, the Grand Dominion

"One more round 'Lord Protector'...

Lord Fairfax groaned and woke up. There was a small patter of rain on the windows. For a moment he had had the most vivid dream...

He glanced over at Elizabeth Bhatt. His mistress hadn't even stirred, good. Standing up he walked into his bathroom where he got himself a glass of water. His father may have been willing to continue with tradition, and summon a servant, but one of his first acts had been to install fixtures in the WC more akin to a middle class home than a potentate of Asia. He had done away with most of the body servants, and as a result the Protector Household had saved a tidy sum, although within the Whig party there had been grumblings of this "being unseemly for God's Viceroy on Earth."

He glanced back into the bedroom. His father had refused to allow him to marry half-native, even a convert, and he'd been forced to marry for political purposes...or else the throne would have gone to his lunatic brother. And so, grimly, once a week he made his way to Lady Sterling's bed in the hopes of producing a legal heir, but there was none. And his father was dead. And his brother showed some common decency in his life for once, and took a Hindoo Insurrectionist bullet to the head. Soon the Latin Patriarch would be dead, and he would be able to force the new one to annul his marriage.

"Matthew?"

"In here, just getting some water." Lord Fairfax finished the glass and went back into the bedroom. As he crawled back in he winced as his right shoulder flared up in pain. In '15, he and all the other Midshipmen had been mobilized into a Naval Brigade in order to help suppress the Red insurrection in Trincomalee. The slight limp in his left leg came from a splinter that came from mutinous Burmese who had opened fire on his Gunboat 3 years ago. "Big day tomorrow."

"You'll do fine."

"The House is going to eat me alive."

"You're doing the right thing..."

"I know, it's just..."

"If it's right, then you have nothing to fear from." A crooked smile. "Besides, I find it odd that a man who has been under fire so many times would be afraid of a chamber full of parliamentarians."

"I think I'd rather get shot again." Lord Fairfax grumbled.

Voice of the Worker
Capitalist Clique stomps on the will of the People

Not content to deny the proletariat the right to assembly peaceably, the plutocracy in Madagascar have arrested several members of the Worker's Liberation Front. The Valiant heros of the WLF have spent years trying to spread the revolution for the good of the people, despite the best efforts of the Bourgeoisie blood suckers to destroy them. Recently, the WFL has struck several righteous blows against the greedy gold worshiping autocracy. Fearful of the righteous wrath of the people, the Madagascar mafia are redoubling their efforts to cow the people into silence. But the flame of freedom and equality will not be extinguished! The Enemies of the People will regret their feeble efforts to hoard the wealth of their country once the Revolution spreads.

Though some of the Champions of the Proletariat may be incarcerated, this is cause for joy, not despair. The journey towards justice and world liberation is made all the sweeter by minor stumbling blocks along the way. The names of these valiant martyrs who lost their lives would be remembered forever if enough was left of their bodies to identify them. The blows they struck for socialism foreshadow a torrent of righteous blows for the workers, crushing the vile face of the oppressor. And though the Bourgeoisie blood suckers may beg for mercy, staining the fists of the avenging workers and peasants with hot snotty tears, their empty lies will avail them nothing in the face of the inevitable triumph of the working class!

200 nautical miles south of the Not-Suez Canal

The German merchant steamer Mecklenburg ground to a halt under the watchful guns of the P.N.S Godfrey.

The ship had tried to make a run for it, but a few rounds from the main battery had dissuaded them of that idea.

From the bridge of the Mecklenburg, the Captain watched as a motor launch was lowered into the water. Several minutes later, a Grand Dominion Naval Commander was standing on his deck.

"What is the meaning of this piracy?" shouted the Captain.

"Piracy?" replied the Dominionite Naval Officer with a sniffle. "This is merely charging a toll to help pay for the maintenance of naval patrols against Shepistani pirates."

"But you're at peace!" shouted the Captain of the Mecklenburg.

"No. Merely in a ceasefire. The two are mutually incompatible. Pay up."

"My country will hear about this!" blustered the Captain, in an attempt to intimidate the Dominionite.

"I'm sure they will. Now pay up or we will seize you as a prize."

650 nautical miles south of the Not-Suez Canal a day later

"This must be some kind of sick joke; didn't we already pay the toll?" muttered the Captain to his First Officer.

"Indeed we did. And it was highway robbery."

The same battleship as before was now standing off their port beam, turrets trained towards them. Once again, a gig launch was lowered. Minutes later a naval officer wearing a slightly different uniform than the first one was standing in front of the Captain.

"What is this ridiculousness? We already paid your ridiculous toll."

"Actually, this is a toll by the Shepistani government for the protection of commerce against God-Damns Piracy."

Grand Dominion Foreign Ministry, two days later

"Jeeves; begin dictating the following message for the German attache."

"Start. The P.N.S. Godfrey was not in the area you claim it was in at that time period. It must have been the Shepistani ship conducting it's piratical operations."

Shepistani Foreign Ministry, the same time roughly

"Tony; begin dictating the following message to the German attache."

"Start. The S.F.S. Godfrey was not in the area you claim it was operating in at the time. It must have been the Grand Dominion ship conducting piratical operations."

Notes: Done in conjunction with Lonestar.

Transcript from Bolivarian Congress

Jan 2. 1925

Adolfo Gonzalo [Heritage Freedom Party]: I would like to comment on the recent legislation that allows women to fly military aircraft. Surely the New Years festivities have influenced some members to pass an otherwise ridiculous act. It is well known that the frail female constitution is unable to withstand the windspeeds and temperatures of flight in an open cockpit-

Maurice Guiterrez [Liberal Party]: But increasingly cockpits will be closed! We recognized future developments in flight when we approved the legislation.

Adolfo Gonzalo [Heritage Freedom Party]: If I may continue, clearly women do not possess the hunter instinct that allows victory in aerial combat. Moreover, as we know, issues of feminine hygeine will-"

[shouting]

Eduardo Montoya [Socialist Party]: I demand the previous comments be stricken from the record. This sort of behaviour represents why our country is backwards in several key areas.

José Mariátegui [Communist Party] "Backwards" is a relativist term. What is progress? Does the ceaseless mechanization of our lives constitute progress? Let us not measure ourselves solely against the Europeans. We need to increase our material standing, but not in a slavish manner. Not at the cost of our cultural traditions.

Eduardo Montoya [Socialist Party]: You are supposed to be on our side!

Open Letter To All Communist/Socialist/Derivatives Thereof Parties:

The Union of the Low Countries, in the spirit of the international worker, would like to host a conference to discuss methods of preventing abuses to the proletariat, defending the rights of workers, and organizing like-minded parties and countries to further assist the worker.

The Event is planned to start May the First of this year, 1925, at the Hague.

- Mr. Alex Steacy, Minister of Foreign Affairs, Union of the Low Countries.

The vast plains of Mother Russia. Volkhov.

The massive hydroelectric dam buzzed into life. The great Volkhovstroi, the first construction benchmark of the GOELRO plan, was accomplished. The station that could give 58 megawatts of power was given the name of V.I. Lenin, the first leader of the Soviet Union.

The vast plains of Mother Russia. Moscow.

Merely a year has passed after the great leader of the people passed away. The mourning crowds no longer filled the streets. In this early and cold Moscow morning only a small queue stood before the wooden building, Lenin's Mausoleum. Cold winds passed over the desolate Red Square, making people put heads down deeper into their warm clothes.

Meanwhile, the All-Union Congress of the Soviets was about to begin at the Bolshoi Theatre.


A tall man in a black trenchcoat stood at the gates, and if someone would've seen his sight, he'd wonder if the man lost his relatives recently. But no. The man was simply shocked. This time, all was different.

- Comrade? - someone called. - Nickolai Ivanovich? We'll be late for the opening.

- Yes, we have to hurry, - Bukharin turned to the doors and stepped in.

- We do. Too bad about Comrade Stalin, right? - asked the guard.

- Sure, it's bad, - Bukharin displayed no emotions. - He was a courageous fighter for the proletariat. We could not know that publishing Lenin's opinions and recollections of him would lead to such... drastic consequences. A monarchist assassination! Still possible in our time I guess.

- The VTSIK is awaiting you for consultations. So is Nadezhda. And how about making a visit to Trotskiy?

- I'll skip on the latter, - Bukharin rushed through the corridors of Bolshoi to the congress hall.

- The Circle would like you to speak with him, however, - remarked the guard. - His opposition to the industrialization program is unacceptable. We have to solve the problem.

- I'm sick of that band of militarists and career-hungry scum who profess to be "true communists" now, - Bukharin said a few harsh words not meant to be heard by anyone but his guard. - However, I guess compromise is the only way. There's no one-man leader in the nation, and there won't be for a long time.

He entered the hall. Someone was already speaking. Hmm, that was Trotskiy. Fine. Let's listen and make notes.

The Blue Palace, Williamsburg, The Grand Dominion

The Carriage rolled towards the Blue Palace, the home of the House of Burgesses, the parliament for the Grand Dominion. Lord Fairfax sat reading through his notes. It was his first "State of the Dominion" speech as Lord Protector, and he was going to be tossing a few metaphorical hand grenades into the chamber. I'll be lucky if I don't get a real one in return...

"Have fun with your Halfcaste whore last night?"

Fairfax ignored his wife.

"I said..."

"Dear, if you insist upon these public displays I shall have you committed." Fairfax said, briefly glancing up from his notes. Sarah Christensen, the Lady Sterling, flushed pink. Unlike his mistress, Sterling was fair and blonde. The carriage rolled to a stop. Outside a band was playing "Dominion, My Dominion" like they held a grudge against the composer. One of the Horse Guards(as this was the parliament, the Honour Guard was not the Dominion Knights) opened the door to the carriage, and Fairfax rendered a salute as he stepped out.

Marching down the hall he paused at the small door leading behind the speaker's stand. Lord Wythe was speaking.

"All rise for the Lord Protector..."

There was a dull sound as the parliamentarians stood. Fairfax walked out and took his place behind the podium.

"Please be seated." The parliamentarians sat.

"As you all know, this is the first State of the Dominion speech held since my father passed on. In the past 6 months, little has changed. We are still beset by enemies both external and internal." Fairfax paused. The Whigs were nodding, and so were the Christian Democrats. Labour and the Social Democrats were giving only the briefest of indication they heard him. "The 1913-15 War only ended because the Natives in both the Grand Dominion and the territory held by the Shepistanis rose up at once. Both of us needed to put our houses in order." More nods.

"It is my intent to move forward to strengthen political, military, and economic security of the Grand Dominion. First, the economic aspects."

"As you know, war has largely become one of machines. Planes trains and automobiles, as the saying goes. Fuel, above all oil, is what empowers us to fight against the Hordes of Asia. Gentlemen, every year our military becomes more and more mechanized. More trucks, more tanks, more planes...and a static amount of available fuel. What's worse, what oil we do have internally is largely in Aden, and must be convoyed across the Northern Arabian Sea...a losing proposition in the face of the Shepistani Federal Navy." There were some squirms, and Fairfax noted that some of the men who had strangled the GDN had recognized the hit. "In order to secure our economic and industrial prosperity, the following actions must be taken:"

"First, we must greatly expand our Strategic Petroleum Reserves, and ensure that the facilities are secure. I have asked the Joint-Dominion War Staff to draw up estimates on the amount of unrefined petroleum needed for 36 months of combat operartions..across all services. Included in the report will be recommendations for secure locales for storage facilities."

"Second, we must meet trade agreements with oil-rich nations. This may be the Grecians, the Caliphate, the Americans or the [whatever the fuck Shinn's countyr is called]. This means we cannot treat them in such a cavalier manner in our diplomatic dispatches."

"Third, Dr. Blitzschlag of the Special Industrial Group has been instructed to provide special research in the creation of synthetic fuels, especially from material readily available within the Grand Dominion. Such is the power of the Dominion Chemical Industry, that one day we may be free from the shackles of petroleum!"

There was a smattering of applause. Fairfax noted that most of them were from districts that did a lot of chemical work. Well, this next bit will get more of a reaction...

"Now, on to our Military security. During the 1913-15 War we learned that modern warfare, above all, was a war of logistics. Despite our preponderence in strength with our army, we were only able to bring about a conclusion with great difficulty. We never had enough men."

"Therefore, I will be sending a bill to the house to extend the franchise to women, so they can also serv-"

There was a roar as 300 men stood up, some shouting in anger, others in happiness. It was mostly split along party lines. The Whigs and Christian Democrats were jeering, while Labour and the Social Democrats were shouting and clapping madly."

"-Serve in the military. By allowing this we will be able to expand our available manpower."

Fairfax waited patiently for the parliamentarians to calm down.

"Finally, our political survival. Our arch-foe has always been the Shepistanis. But we are besieged by nations who, in their own ways, are just as deadly to our survival as a nation. As long as Shepistan continues to be our nemesis, will will be forced to spend huge sums of money on defensive forts and a massive field army, draining our treasury and weakening our standing abroad."

Quite a few members of the Parliament were leaning forward eagerly. Obviously they think I'm going to kick off another general war... Fairfax thought.

"Therefore, I will make it a top foreign policy priority to seek out a Permanent Peace Treaty with the Shepistani Federation!" Fairfax slammed his fist on the podium.

The Chamber exploded in screams and shouts.

Imperial Palace, Constantinople

"Your majesty, the High Senator Valentinos is waiting to see you," Exarch Ignatius spoke. Ignatius was the Emperor's Foreign Minister. Alexios IV who had just finished his breakfast, nodded. "Send him in."

High Senator Valentinos walked in. Though he was not quite a monarchist, it did not take too much effort to admire the splendour of the Imperial Palace of Constantinople. The Imperial Government and the Senate and all the Ministries of State, occupied the entire swathe of Old Constantinople demarcated by the Theodosian Walls. While the population had largely moved out into the more modern Greater Constantinople, and occupied much of the surrounding lands.

Valentinos represented the Progressive Party, that advocated Progressive policies, and tried to stay above the often quarreling Monarchist and Communist Parties. While the Emperor tolerated the Communist Parties, Valentinos knew that Alexios IV was often seething at the constant accusations hurled by the Communist Party, and often was tempted to send in the Varangian Guard and the Urban Cohort to arrest the lot of them, elected by the people or no.

"Welcome Valentinos. Come, sit and have some coffee." Javanese Coffee, made from the beans cultivated in Java and shipped all the way to Constantinople. The rich lands of the island continue to provide an endless stream of excellent crops.

"Thank you, majesty."

After a moment of chit chat, it was down to business. "How goes things on the economic front?" asked the Emperor.

"Things proceed well my lord. The economy continues to boom as our industries continue to churn out goods that are exported throughout the world. Though I might add, the Soviet Union presents us an opportunity especially with their rapidly growing industries."

The Emperor twitched. "So long as they don't export their brand of ideology to us, I am more than happy to work with our Russian friends, assuming they still are our friends."

"Perhaps the new leader might be more open to cooperation?"

"Perhaps. I shall send Ignatius to go talk to their foreign minister."

"That may be a good idea. That aside, how goes things in the colonies?"

"Java of course remains a star in terms of crop production, and other bits of natural resources. Persia," the Emperor chuckled, "also continues to be an excellent source of oil and minerals."

"The oil gives us plenty of foreign currency to use to continue bolstering our own economy, and ensure our citizens receive excellent health care and education. All of which helps."

"Indeed. We should never be too reliant on oil, and ensure our industrial efficiency remains top notch so that we do not consume too much of our own oil."

"On other matters, m'lord. What do you plan to tell the Senate with regards to your new plans for naval, air force and army expansion?"

"I will tell them that our navy has to keep up with all the latest technologies, and our army and air force must expand. While our Caliphate and Balkan Confederacy friends hold our northern and south western borders, the east at the Shepistani border gives me reason to pause. Grand Dominion and Shepistan continues to trade barbs both diplomatically and militarily. I fear it is only a matter of time before war erupts between them."

"That would hurt trade through the Suez canal. That is a matter of grave concern to both us and the Caliphate."

"Indeed. Perhaps I should exchange some words with the good Sultan. Also, perhaps we should send diplomatic feelers to both Shepistan and Grand Dominion. Perhaps it is possible to establish some reasonably good ties with them." The Emperor turned to Ignatius and the latter nodded. "And oh, one more thing. Ignatius, I want you to compose a letter expressing our sorrow of the passing of the leader of the Soviet Union. Send it at once to Moscow. And find out who is to be the next leader of the Soviet Union while you are at it."

The vast plains of Mother Russia. Moscow, Lubyanka.

The black trenchcoat walked through the archives. He couldn't believe that. Instead of being placed in a position of power, Stanislav was now the CheKa special operative, serving as both guard and advisor to Nickolay Bucharin, Maxim Maximovich Isaev.

The "yellow house", a place where the mighty Soviet secret service was located, brimmed with life. Dozens of people swarmed in the corridors. "That is on your neck now!", "I'll take that under my personal supervision", "I have his documents, please take a look". The corridors were dim. Occasional visiters to Felix Dzerzhinskiy himself carefully gathered in the entry hall, clutching letters and petitions. Many of them were petitions to enter the CheKa itself, quite possibly with backing from Party seniors. The luxurious furnishing inside the building contrasted with the ascetic clothing of the Chekists.

It was here where the Ying-Yang of male power, embodied by Dzerzhinskiy, met the female power - his deputy, Maria Spiridonova, the former head of the Left Eser who were now the second political power in the Union. Barely avoiding a real political conflict becoming a military one, the early Soviet government made several key appointments of Eser into the government... which later turned to be not so easily replaced. Maria's place in the special services allowed the former terrorist to remove quite a few of her opponents.

Some spoke - but only Maxim Maximovich knew that it wasn't so - that Maria was the architect of comrade Stalin's untimely death. Many linked it to comrade Stalin's possible involvement with the hidden monarchist activist in the RKKA, an officer who shot Vladimir Lenin.

Maxim Maximovich entered his cabinet. Everything was full of dust - Maxim just recently returned from a critical mission, oversight of the rehauling of the blown-up hull of dreadnaught Imperatritsa Maria which under the new government plan would become the Union's second aircraft carrier, the Sokol. The CheKa agent shook off the dust. So that's how it is. No more "absolute power". Merely a cog in a large powergame that is now occuring in the Soviet ruling circle. An advisor to one of them, but not the only one. That meant Stanislav could impact the decisions of the Soviet government, but clearly not have full control over them. However, him being Bukharin's protege certainly helped. He looked into the folders brought today after having some tea.


Nice, nice folders. One - retribution to the murderers of Vorovskiy, who are hiding out in Switzerland. Damn. That wouldn't be an easy mission. Next, revision of works on DnieproGES, the largest hydroelectric power project currenly undertaken. Okay. Hints of sabotage? We'll figure that out. Then... wait, what? The special VTSIK meeting on the Manchurian issue? Damn me if I miss that, thought Isaev. And finally, accompanying Bukharin's voyage as a representative of the VTSIK - to Germany, Byzantium and several other European powers, slated for April. That's good. The winter now is pretty bad, and a lot of travelling is hampered by the snow.

The winter winds howled outside.

Storm has set the heavens scowling,
Whirling gusty blizzards wild,
Now they are like beasts a-growling,
Now a-wailing like a child;

Pushkin, the never-dying classic. Maxim slowly hummed it to himself while overturning the frail pages of Spiridonova's reports and instructions. The rustling of pages for several hours was the only sound to come out of Maxim's room. Finally, dressed in the usual black trenchcoat, Maxim left the building.

It was already dark when he passed the streets of Moscow towards his home - a long journey through paths covered thickly with new snow, sticky, that held you back as you made every new step. Few citizens walked that late. There was a proverb, a new one, born already, that you could only meet shady persons or chekists during Moscow nights. Well, it was at least partly true, admitted Maxim. He noted that the new year celebrations passed already, but often the decorations were not yet removed. Maxim noted to report on that to the city officials. What a waste of precious electricity that our plants are starving for.

Grand Hall of Parliament, Portugal



In the meeting room of the Grand Hall of Parliament the council of five sat, they were; Alfonso Rodgrigues de Souza, Manoel Rodgrigues Pereira, Carlos Fereira Fereira, Manoel Almeida Ramalho, Amílcar Américo Ribeiro. Those five men, along with many aides and lesser ministers, ruled Portugal and her colonies. They had faced many challenges, but none so daunting as not having a widely feared problem to face. With the military recovered, and the economy strong and seemingly stable, the people seemed to have started to question the need for the rules that aided in her rebirth as a world power. They knew that they would need a problem, or it was inevitable that discontent would grow and the nation would weaken again.

They had a few leads, but nothing that the people would latch onto and swallow. There wasn't any of the expected conflict near the twin canals in Central America, and the Shepistani/Dominion conflict and the strange goings on near the Suez were simply too far away to be made into a large enough issue. There were thoughts of starting a war in Africa, but that was seen as a last resort and not one they wanted to use. So they waited, and watched the news for any signs of a problem they could set to 'solving'.

However waiting for a problem wasn't their only project, nor even the one most time was spent on, mundane tasks such as keeping the shipyards filled and busy, and civil projects took far more time than anybody would have liked. On this day the yearly tasks for the shipyard were going out. The last two ships in the Mitológico-class had started in 1924 and were expected to leave the yard in mid 1926, and the conversion of the Portugal-class Dreadnought hulls was expected to be somewhere along the same time line, yet that hadl only filled a fraction of the naval yards and more work was needed to keep the people employed. They had a few ideas, first among them refitting the aging Portugal-class Dreadnoughts not slated to become carriers, the stated design increased their speed by 5 knots and shifted them from relying on coal to using oil fired boilers, her guns would also be replaced by 12"/52 caliber guns, an upgrade over the older 12"/45 design. That would have filled the shipyards enough to keep people employed, and would have given them time to finalize the newest design; a design which was expected to carry the then newly designed and tested 16" guns and was planned to be a full seven-thousand tons heavier than their current line of dreadnoughts. In the end no other plan came close and it was decided to fill the yards with the old hulls for refit and announce the new designs by mid year.

Summary:
-Portugal is looking for a national problem
-4 new Gigante-class ships are under construction
-2 aircraft carriers are being built on old Portugal-class Dreadnought hulls
-3 other Portugal-class ships are being rebuilt with oil burning boilers, new guns, and thicker deck armor
-A new 50kt design is in the works

Berliner Zeitung

Piraten!

The Berliner Zeitung has learned that an act of piracy was committed against a German merchant ship. In response, the German Chancellor said in a brief statement that piracy, no matter the form in which it occurs, will not be tolerated.

A radio report from the Steamer Mecklenburg seems to indicate that it was stopped by a dominion battleship, the Godfrey. and an illegal toll was extorted. Though no visual proof has yet been delievered, the affair was allegedly documented on photos by a travelling photographer. The pictures have been transferred to the head of the German colony of Sumbawa and will be transferred to both China, Cascadia, Spain and Germany proper for publication in major newspapers.

German naval attache's in all nations have been told to raise the matter with the governments and to find out about their stance.



New battleships
As Schichau, Germaniawert, Blohm&Voss, Vulcan Stettin and the shipyards at Bremerhaven report, the fitting out of the new Battleships launched in December 1924 continues.

Further contracts for new battleships may be handed out in a few weeks.


Summary:
- Germany's naval attache's have been ordered to raise the matter with all governments conductiing trade in the region.

Grand Dominion Foreign Ministry

The German ambassador had been kept waiting for 2 hours before finally finally being ushered in to see the Foreign Minister, a former "White" Russian named Vladimir Berman. As Ambassador Freitag entered, Berman spoke.

"I apologize for the delay, Ambassador, as you can see we are quite busy." Berman waved at the stakes of paper, although there was also a half-empty Vodka bottle on his desk. "I'm not sure why you've came, I've already sent a message back remarking that Godfrey was not in the area that your mariners claim it was."

"I have assurances that photographic evidence is on it's way..."

Berman snorted.

"Ambassador, I highly doubt that."

"...And when it arrives we will be insisting upon answers."

"Oh-ho? Evidence eh? I suppose you have a picture clearly showing the appropriate time frame? Perhaps the current XO of the Godfrey posing for a portrait with the master of your ship?" In fact, Berman already knew that there had been no such close up photos "More likely, I suspect that your 'evidence' will consisted of grainy photos taken at a distance. Perhaps with a blurry outline of a gig making it's way to the steamer." Berman shook his head sadly. "I am despondent that you would resort to such childish schemes."

Freitag jerked back at the audacity of the statement. "My government will be displeased that you've decided to take this route."

Berman shrugged and continued to puff.

"My understanding is that, were one of these 'incidents' to happen again to a German vessel, the fleet would sortie out."

Berman grunted, and removed his pipe.

"Ambassador, I am not a naval man, but I can look at geography as well as the next. Even if one of these 'incidents'," Berman made little quotation marks with his fingers "were to occur again, your fleet would have to transit the Suez Canal and the Raid Sea, while seekign out a secure local base of operations." Berman began puffing on his pipe again, looking thoughtful. "The Red Sea is narrow enough, and Dominion territorial waters extend into it enough, that I imagine that route could be mitigated by a simple mining of the waterway."

"I do not think either the Greeks or the Caliphate would allow you to do this..."

Berman shrugged again. "We would, of course, only lay the minefields for the duration of the emergency, as well as providing pilots for non-belligerent vessels. Also, I am not sure that either the Greeks or the Mohammedans would be so eager to aid the Germans in yet another spate of foreign conquest."

Freitag glared at the fat Russian. "And if, despite all your efforts, the fleet were to arrive anyway?"

Berman shrugged. "We would destroy it. I suspect that the Shepistanis would take the opportunity to grab territorial and commercial concessions, and perhaps even put their own fleet to sea. They care even less for interfering Europeans than we do."

"Well," Freitag said, standing up, gathering his photos. "I must consult with my government." He turned away.

"Christ be with you!" Berman said cheerfully with a wave.

The Niislel Khüree Swift Horseman

Front Page, above the fold

Angarag, elected Khan, gave a speech before the Great Khural last week in an attempt to convince the legislature to pass an statute to allow for the sale of recently-obsolete arms to neighboring nations in exchange for more unrestricted access to ports. The Khan hopes that with the issues of questionable Chinese stability and the recent revolution in Russia would make the sale of older model machine guns and artillery pieces attractive to their respective governments and that it might convince them to allow Mongolia greater access to ports in order for international shipping. The Great Khural voted on the measure yesterday, with the Amalgamated Market Parties of Mongolia voting in favor, the Mongolian Nationalist Front voting against, and the Mongolian Marxist Party splitting the vote. The MMP's split is due to mixed feelings regarding trading to the USSR as well as China and Manchuria, while also considering that the increase in manufacture would improve the standard of living of the unionized munitions factories. The measure, however, passed narrowly, with a vote of 389-361.

Front Page, below the fold

Yesterday in Ulaangom, a street battle occurred between groups of workers representing the Mongolian Marxist Party and the Mongolian Nationalist Front. Dozens are injured and several dead from the vicious fighting between the factions and was only quelled by overwhelming police and gendarme force. The Great Khural's response has been muted, as representatives from the MMP and the MNF blame one another for the fighting. The Amalgamated Market Parties of Mongolia have called for a decrease in violent rhetoric from both sides, saying that such speech encourages such open fighting between citizens.

Photo credit: http://www.aviation-central.com/famous/abr00.htm

Villa Von Schenk
Muizz Street, Old Cairo



“An assassin?” Daphne de Saint-Claire looked discomposed. “Within the Citadel?” A worried frown creased her brow. “You don't suppose he was...”

“Hashashin?” The Count shook his head. The two of them were sitting in the villa's spacious orangery. Two armed men of the Count's bodyguard, the Iron Grenadiers, stood at the door. “I am not sure. Although if the Exalted Sultan” there was just a hint of sarcasm to his voice “has it in for me, it doesn't matter very much.”

“You could not simply ask him?”

“I suppose I could, though not to any instructive consequence.”

“I see.” As President of the Universal Suez Ship Canal Company Daphne de Saint-Claire knew all too well how labyrinthine the intrigue at the Sultan's court could be. Assassins within the most well-guarded redoubt of the Sultanate was a most sensitive matter, and its ruler had nothing to gain by divulging any information about the attempt on the Count's life. It was therefore most unlikely that information would be forthcoming. “Let us for the moment assume, then, that it was not the Sultan who wished you killed.”

The Count nodded. “By all means, let's.”

“Since information from the Citadel isn't to be expected I take it we would have to run our own investigation?”

Siegfried nodded again. “Indeed. I shall send a few men into the city to-”

“You most certainly will not.” His wife's voice was crisp and commanding as she cut him off, and her tone brooked no disagreement. The Count raised an eyebrow. “Honestly dear. You would send your tall, blond Germans, few of whom I might add speak even a handful of Arabic, into Old Cairo to find information? Your enemies would see them coming from a mile away... Assuming your men could even find the places they ought to be looking.”

Looking slightly embarrassed the Count tapped his fingers on the table. “I suppose I see your point. We find ourselves in a predicament, then.”

At a quick hand gesture from his wife a servant appeared to refill their teacups. The two of them sat in silence for a while before Saint-Claire seemed to remember something. “There is, or rather there was, a man who worked for the Company for a bit, back when we were dealing with the Libyan situation...”

The Count looked up. “The Scotsman?”

“Him.” Saint-Claire inclined her head. “MacBride, his name was. He might be able to assist – provided he's still in Cairo.”

“Provided he's still alive.” Siegfried was skeptical. “He was a stateless rogue after all.”

Now it was Saint-Claire who raised an eyebrow. “By some measurements, my dear, so are you.”

“Point taken.” The Count sipped his tea. “Very well. I will have someone seek him out.”

“In the meantime, Siggi...” Saint-Claire looked over her shoulder at the two guards by the door. “Do you suppose this place is safe from further attacks?”

Siegfried scratched the old scar on his cheek. After a brief moment he spoke. “My dear, I think you at least are quite safe from assassination. If the President of the Canal Company was killed I'm sure the Byzantines would be quite cross with whoever was responsible.”

Daphne de Saint-Claire emptied her cup and carefully placed it back on the table. “The Emperor's acrimony won't do me much good though when I am dead, will it?” she observed dryly.

The Count smiled. “I suppose not.”

His wife sighed. “Oh well. So long as the guards stay on the other side of our bedroom door I fancy we should be all right.”

Telegraph to USSR Ministry of Foreign Affairs

Dear Sir/Mdm,

Much sorrow the Emperor of the Imperium Romanum would like to express over the recent death of your leader. He has expressed his condolences, and wishes the USSR the best in the future. He would like to maintain the old friendship that existed between our two nations over the last few centuries, even though there are clear points of friction that now exists. I would like to have a face to face meeting with the head of the Supreme Soviet, in hope of gaining an understanding between our two nations.

Regards,
Exarch Ignatius.

The Gold Palace, Williamsburg, The Grand Dominion

"Alright," Fairfax said. "Truth time. What happened?"

Grand Admiral Saldana gnawed on his corona corona. "The battleship Godfrey stopped a German merchant suspected of transporting war material to Shepistan. When, uh, upon inspection of the ship's papers it turned out it wasn't the ship we were looking for, Captain Ernst decided to reduce...operating expenses."

Fairfax rubbed his temples. "And was Captain Ernst authorized to do this?"

The naval staff glanced at each other. Lord Fairfax had been in the navy, making him fairly unique as Lord Protectors went, so he almost certainly understood 'how things were done'. But it was clear Fairfax was determined to take the Dominion in a new direction.

"Ah, well." Saldana said. "Such actions are only authorized in a state of belligerency, and although I hate to judge before all the facts are in, it's beginning to look like Captain Ernst exceeded his authority."

"I'm glad you agree." Fairfax. The naval staff were looking at him stonily. "Start an inquiry and have Ernst relieved for the duration of it."

There was a murmur of assent. Fairfax turned to Field Marshal Piper.

"Our coastal defenses?"

"In a heightened state of alert. We've received word of similar steps taken by the schismatics in the Shepistani Federation. Don't worry, we'll be able to defend our land from any European attack." There was an unspoken The navy wouldn't be able to.

Well, maybe if we didn't sent a Light Cruiser's worth of shells downrange every month in peace time we could afford the navy we need. Fairfax thought. He glanced around at the Joint Dominion War Staff.

"Gentlemen, I cannot emphasize this enough. This must stop. This is not a hundred years ago, where it took months and months for a European fleet to arrive. Admiral Saldana, I want you to make it abundantly clear to our post captains that we cannot do this. Marshal Piper, you will, by God, play nice with the navy and coordinate a cohesive coastal defense. Got it?

Piper looked disgruntled. "Aye sir."

"Good. Now, what are the today's casualties along the front...?"